Shadow of the Wolf by Tim Hall Read Free Book Online Page A

ranted at Robin as if it was entirely his fault. But Robin made a soothing balm from primrose petals, the way his father had taught him, and he treated Marian’s wound and soon she was placated.
    On another occasion their tower became infested with wasps and they both suffered several stings. Robin put damp wood shavings on their fire and wafted billows of smoke intothe rafters, driving the insects away. Each little crisis they met one way or another.
    Spring turned to summer; they went to Silver River for midnight swims. Summer gave way to autumn; they foraged for fruits and berries and staged grand woodland banquets. And still they were left alone, to follow this life of their own devising, rulers of their own nocturnal world.
     
    One night Robin woke with a sickly, panicked feeling, as if he had forgotten something of utmost importance. Finally he understood: he had not thought of his family for days. They were no longer his first thought on waking, nor his final thought before he slept.
    He closed his eyes and summoned a memory of his brothers, teaching him to swim at Mill Pond. He started to do this every night: he would bring to mind the sound of his father’s laugh, or silently recite the words to one of his mother’s songs. He would never allow himself to forget, no matter how long they were gone.
    But it was increasingly difficult to
remember
to remember: his life with Marian was a constant whirl of challenge and adventure, of stories and dares and quests; not to mention the vital work of keeping themselves warm and fed. No wonder his old life, at the top of Herne Hill, was beginning to fade, just a little.
    This is our home.
    Slowly Robin came to believe it was true. The tower
was
home. And as the seasons turned, this life with Marian – this feral existence roaming the valley and the manor – there were times when this felt like the only life he had ever known.

Part Two
Summer’s End

Four Years Later

I. Forever Days
    R obin climbed the slope to take another turn on the rope swing. Below him Titan’s Lake gleamed golden in the late-summer sun. He took hold of the rope, stood as far back as he was able, the branch creaking high above. He swung out over the water, let go, and came splashing down in a tangle of limbs. Marian laughed, and when he got back to the bank she was still laughing.
    ‘You’re all arms and legs,’ she said. ‘Look, like this, watch me.’ She climbed to the rope, swung over the lake, turned gracefully in the air, and arrowed into the water like a diving kingfisher. She swam back to the bank and stood in the shallows, wringing her hair. ‘See,’ she said. ‘Easy.’
    Robin climbed the slope once more, swung out, and came down on his back, with an even bigger splash. He went again and again to the swing, trying now to make each landing worse than the last, playing up to it while Marian laughed.
    ‘I wasn’t born for the water,’ he said, standing waist deep. ‘Not like you. You’re half fish.’
    ‘Take that back!’ Marian rushed into the lake, swept a wave over Robin’s head. He was making fish faces with his lips. She charged at him, splashing wave after wave.
    ‘Truce!’ Robin said. ‘You’re not half fish.’
    ‘Well, you’re all toad.’
    They clambered out of the lake and flopped down on the bank, the last of their energy used, too hot now to move. Never had they known a summer this hot. Week after week the valley had scorched beneath a molten sun. It was too stifling to sleep indoors – during the day even their tower became like an oven – so temporarily they had given up their nocturnal ways and they spent most of their time here, at Titan’s Lake, dozing in the dappled shade, stirring now and then to engage in a flurry of games, cooling off in the water and stretching out again to doze.
    Robin looked at Marian, twisting lazily to get comfortable, cat-like. Gold coins of sunlight dripped through the leaves and lay across her neck and her shoulders. She