Dragonfire Read Free Page A

saw, to his relief, that his adversaries were merely children. Spreading his wings, he dived at them, his talons ripping the sleeve of Neil’s jacket and his beak tearing at its hood.
    Clara turned to run but then remembered the rock she held in her hand. Screaming at the top of her voice, she threw it atAmgarad and had the satisfaction of seeing him jerk in pain. He loosened his grip on Neil’s jacket and his black, angry eyes turned upon her.
    “Run, Clara!” Neil shouted as he rushed at Amgarad, trying to pinion his wings. The strength of the bird was too much for him, however. Amgarad shrugged him off and, with a dreadful cry, knocked him to the ground and held him with one of his talons.
    “Neil! Clara! Where are you?” The Ranger’s voice rang out through the mist.
    “Here, Dad, here!” screamed Clara.
    Amgarad’s head lifted as he heard the Ranger’s voice. The man was too close. Reluctantly he left Neil, flapped heavily into the air and disappeared into the mist.
    “Neil, are you all right?” Clara sobbed as she ran up. “Dad’s here. I heard him!”
    “Dad! Dad! Over here!” Neil shouted.
    “What was it?” gasped Clara. “It was awful. I’ve never seen a bird like that before. It had a beak like an eagle but its feathers were like … dirty rags!”
    At that moment the Ranger loomed through the fog. Clara threw herself into his arms. “Oh Dad!” she cried. “A bird attacked us!”
    “A bird! Is that what the noise was?” said the Ranger. “Good grief, Neil! Look at your jacket!”
    “Never mind my jacket, Dad! Listen here, at the well. What do you think is making that noise?”
    The Ranger leant over the well and listened to the strange roars, rumblings and hissings that rose from its depths. “That’s strange,” he said looking puzzled. “I don’t understand it. I’ll come up here tomorrow when it’s light and have a scout round. And if I see the bird that did that to your jacket, Neil, I’ll shoot it!”
    Amgarad, hunched on a nearby rock, heard his last remark and smiled nastily. Good luck to him! As he heard them making their way down the slope through the swirling mist, he returned to the well and listened with interest to the noises that emanated from it.

3. Faery Folk
    The lights were on in the cottage. “Is Mum up?” Clara asked.
    “Yes,” answered their father. “She heard the gate creak and woke me up. You have some explaining to do, the pair of you!”
    Mrs MacLean was furious when they arrived, wet and bedraggled, at the door of the cottage. Her anger, however, quickly changed to concern when she saw how tired both children looked.
    “Take off your things and …! Neil MacLean! What have you done to your jacket? Look at it! Ripped to pieces!”
    John MacLean shook his head. “We’ll go into that later, Janet,” he said warningly. “Now Neil, I want to hear the whole story right from the beginning. Your mother and I are listening.”
    Neil looked at them doubtfully. “I don’t quite know where to start,” he admitted. “Really, it’s to do with the MacArthurs. The … the little people that live in the hill.”
    Janet MacLean looked at her son with startled eyes. “What are you talking about, Neil? People that live in the hill?
In Arthur’s Seat?
” she said disbelievingly. “Don’t talk rubbish!”
    “Honestly, Mum! I know it sounds crazy but there
are
people that live in the hill. They call themselves the MacArthurs. Clara and I have known them for years and we still see them sometimes; not as often as we used to, ’cos we’ve got school and homework and stuff, but they’ve always been around. They’re our friends!”
    “And … er … just how did you meet them?” asked his father.
    “I don’t really know. They just always seemed to be around when we were exploring the hill. We knew they were different but we were young then and didn’t think that much about it.”
    “We just thought they were funny,” Clara interrupted. “They could