Winterbringers Read Online Free

abandoned World War Two aerodrome.
    George went off on his own among the scrub and bushes, his binoculars ready round his neck. Callie and Josh made their way down to the beach, talking about their respective homes and schools.
    She went to school in St Andrews, travelling in by bus every morning.
    “Are there other people from the village who go there?”
    Callie screwed her face up. “Yeah, but we don’t exactlyget on. They think I’m weird because I’m not into clothes and makeup and music and boys, and I think they’re stupid because they are.”
    She probably didn’t hesitate to tell them either, thought Josh. Just then, rain came without warning, rushing in from the east on a blustery wind. They were soaked in seconds.
    “Come on, this way,” yelled Callie over the drumming of raindrops. “I know where we can shelter.”
    They ran pell-mell, jumping boulders and piles of seaweed, trying not to slip on the treacherous slabs of rock. Josh was going so fast he missed the moment when Callie turned off the beach.
    “In here, Josh!”
    He slid to a halt and looked round to see Callie disappearing inside an opening in the rock face just behind the beach. He doubled back and followed her in, and for a moment they stood just inside, looking out at the rain and catching their breath, then Callie raked in her pocket and produced a tiny torch. She fumbled with the switch for a few seconds before she got it to work.
    “Come on. Have a look round since we’re in here.”
    She swept the beam of the torch around. The light from the entrance reached about five metres in, but the torchlight showed that the cave went further back than that.
    She shone the torch at some vague circular shapes on the floor near the front of the cave.
    “What’s that?”
    “George says it’s a forge from the Iron Age, where they used to melt the iron out of the ore.”
    Josh whistled. “How old does that make it?”
    “Oh, I don’t know. Two thousand years? Three thousand? George can tell you all about it if you really want to know. He’s got a bit of a thing about blacksmiths. I suppose it comesfrom living in a smithy.”
    “Come again?”
    “Part of the house used to be the village smithy, long ago. I’ll show you next time you’re there.” Abruptly, she swung the torch to point at the roof of the cave. “There are meant to be animals carved into the rock up there. I’ve looked and looked, but I can’t see anything that looks like an animal. Can you?”
    Josh squinted up as she moved the light across the rock. He couldn’t see any animals either.
    “There are lots of crosses cut into the back wall that you can see at least.” She moved the torch beam to show him. “There are all sorts of legends about this place: that it was a magic forge, or a hiding place for monks, or that a king called Constantine was murdered here by the Danish Sea Wolves. That’s where it gets its name – Constantine’s Cave.”
    Callie was tracing some of the crosses in the wall with her fingers. Josh could see that a narrow passage led on from the back of the cave.
    “How far back does it go?”
    “Only a few more feet,” said Callie dismissively. “It’s not very interesting. Here, take the torch and have a look.”
    ***
    As we watched the boat it seemed to shiver, and then to swell like an oat in water, until it lay swaying gently, a small boat still, but big enough for the three of us, tethered to a branch by a glimmering white rope.
    Beatrix and Janet and I stepped down into the little boat, its silvery-brown hull stained dark red in three places, and sat. The stream seemed to have swollen as well. Normally you could step across it, but now it seemed to be six feet across or more, cut deep
within its banks.
    “We’ve no oars,” I said. “How do we row?”
    “Wait,” said Janet.
    After a moment, the boat began to drift downstream, but as though it moved with purpose. The white rope uncoiled behind us as we moved. Trees leaned in above