Fireshadow by Anthony Eaton Read Free Book Online Page A

who’d been – who still were – the enemy. His enemy.
    Alice watched him closely.
    â€˜He must hate us.’
    â€˜No.’ She shook her head at him. ‘Grandfather’s not like that. He doesn’t hate. Just feels . . . I don’t know . . . sad. He doesn’t like to talk about Paul. You shouldn’t mention it.’
    Outside, gentle splatters on the roof heralded more rain. The steps creaked and the old man returned clutching a vicious looking handsaw.
    â€˜Right, Erich. Let’s get to work.’

Six
    Vinnie
    Twilight, the sky a blaze of crimson, stars winking into nightly existence between the branches with an intensity he’d never experienced in the city. Springy pine-litter soft and dry beneath him, Vinnie concentrated on one of the pinpoints. The immensity of distance was a distraction from dangerous, hypnotic memories stirred by the fireshadow.
    Even with eyes and mind on the void above, part of him was still aware, still feeling the presence of the flames trapped beside him in their stone prison, the ring of rocks containing the licking fire much as a magic circle or pentagram might hold some primal power at bay. In the chill night the fingers of heat that stretched and caressed the tender skin of his face lent warmth but no comfort – the touch of a devil, he thought.
    Crunch of footsteps on gravel. Sitting up.
    â€˜Hi there.’
    The girl from the campervan stood uncertainly a few feet away, outside the dancing ring cast by his fire.
    â€˜Hi.’
    â€˜Do you mind if I join you? My grandfather goes to bed early, I’m afraid.’
    She loomed into his space, into his thoughts. Even in darkness, with only the flickering red and yellow glow for illumination, Vinnie was uncomfortably aware of her eyes – piercing, blue, probing, taking in his face, the scar.
    He didn’t want this. Didn’t want the intrusion, or the judgment which he knew must follow. Didn’t want to be called to explain his presence in this haunted clearing. But could he refuse? Hers was the first voice he’d heard since the previous morning, and despite himself Vinnie was drawn to it, taken suddenly and unexpectedly by the idea of conversation – any conversation – with a stranger, with someone who didn’t know. Didn’t know him, didn’t know his family. Someone with no interest in the state of his mental health or his ability to ‘let go’.
    The girl stood expectant, her weight nervous on one hip.
    â€˜Sure, take a seat.’
    A smile, hesitant. Should he be smiling?
    â€˜I’m Vinnie.’
    â€˜Helen.’
    Pine needles crackled as she settled beside him, firelight skittering across her face, throwing half of it into deep shadow. Her handshake was so different from the sterile, professional touch of the nurses or the perfunctory contact of his parents.
    â€˜I hope I’m not intruding. I’d finished cleaning up from dinner and really didn’t feel like reading – we’ve been doing that all afternoon – and I saw you sitting over here so I thought . . .’
    â€˜Nah, that’s okay.’
    The forest woke around them and a chorus of insects screeched at the night, bringing with it the rustle of predators and prey alike.
    â€˜You getting away from it all for a while?’
    â€˜Something like that.’ Drop the subject , his tone implied, but gently, and she did. ‘What about you?’
    â€˜I volunteered to bring my grandfather here. He’s visiting from Germany.’
    â€˜And he wanted to come here?’
    â€˜He’s got his reasons.’
    Now it was her voice carrying a quiet warning. Both sat in silence, listening to the night.
    â€˜Would you like a cup of coffee?’
    â€˜If you’re having one. I’d love a tea.’
    â€˜I’ve only got one mug.’
    â€˜I can get mine from the campervan.’
    â€˜Beaut.’
    Vinnie watched her receding figure