The Firehills Read Online Free Page B

wrappers. They
moved down a long aisle of empty shops, their reflections flickering and
dancing in the blank windows, until they came to a bench. The group of
black-clad figures barely looked up as they arrived, but their excited thoughts
raced from mind to mind.
    What news? demanded Finnvarr.
    We have found him, my lord! Our
agents tracked him down and followed him here.
    Here? inquired Finnvarr in
surprise. He is here?
    Yes, my lord!
    We followed him. He is here, in the
town!
    And you are sure he is the one?
    Yes, my lord. He is only a boy by the
reckoning of mortals, but the power is in him.
    Then he has been delivered into our
hands. Finnvarr allowed a look of satisfaction to register on his face. We must ensure that he meets
with . . . an accident. And then the final obstacle
will have been removed from our path.

    ‡

    Sam came down to supper later that evening and edged
nervously into the room normally used for breakfast. Charly, Megan, and Amergin
were already seated at the table, and the remarkable woman who had opened the
front door to him earlier was bustling around, collecting food from a hatch in
the wall.
    “Ah, Sam!” she cried when she saw him. “My dear, do
come in, do! Sit down, yes, just there. That’s splendid!”
    She smacked down a plate of food in front of him. “Tuck
in!” And with that she shuffled off to the kitchen. Sam glanced over to
Charly, who was staring down at his plate significantly and then back at him.
She pulled her mouth down at the corners, her tongue protruding.
    “Charly!” hissed Megan, “Behave!”
    Sam took a mouthful of what he presumed was cabbage and
realized what Charly’s performance was trying to convey. The food was awful.
Swallowing with difficulty, he said, “So, what’s the plan for the
weekend?”
    “Well,” began Megan, “the Jack-in-the-Green Festival isn’t until Monday, so we have Saturday and Sunday to do
whatever we want. It’s up to you, whatever you want to do.”
    “Right, thanks,” said Sam. “So, what happens at this
festival, then?”
    “I thought you lived near here?” Charly asked.
    “It’s more than an hour away!”
    “Ignore her, dear,” suggested Megan.
“Jack-in-theGreen is another name for the Green Man. He has lots of names,
Jack, Attis, Puck, the Horned God, even Robin Hood. Anyway, the festival takes
place in the old castle, up on the cliffs above town. It celebrates the end of
winter when Jack-in-the-Green, as a sort of nature spirit, is sacrificed to
release the summer. The whole thing reaches a climax when the Green
Man—Jack—makes his way up to the castle, accompanied by his bogies—”
    “Urgh!”
    “Sam! It’s short for bogeymen. They’re traditional figures who form part of the procession. They
guard Jack and guide him. Some of them are dressed all in green, with leaves in
their hair, and some are dressed as chimney sweeps. It was the sweeps who
started the tradition, you see.” Megan continued, “Anyway, at the climax,
the Green Man is dismembered—”
    “Uuurgh!” repeated Sam.
    “—and the pieces of foliage are thrown to the crowd,
to set free the summer. If you catch a piece, you’re supposed to keep it and
burn it on the first bonfire of autumn. But most important for us, there are
stalls around the castle grounds, and we rent one every year to sell my pottery
to unsuspecting tourists.” Megan finished with a smile.
    “Sounds like . . . fun,” Sam finished lamely.
    “I would have thought,” said Charly with a wry face,
    “that you would be interested in anything to do with the
Green Man, after what happened last year.”
    Sam glared at her. “Well, excuse me, but this isn’t
some sort of hobby.” He stood up. “I think I’ll turn in. I’ll see you
all at breakfast.” With that, he strode from the room. After a moment’s
silence, Charly said, “Don’t look at me. I didn’t mean anything.”
    “I know, dear,” said her mother with a sigh.
“Sam’s obviously still affected by