Free In Deep Dark Wood by Marita Conlon-Mckenna Page B

shook her head.
    ‘There isn’t a pick on him, is there?’ said the giant. ‘His legs and arms aren’t even the size of chicken bones. He seems quiet enough too, not very fierce.’
    Tears pricked Rory’s eyes. Perhaps the giant was going to eat him, break every bone in his body with those huge teeth of his.
    ‘Bran Bigg, look what you’ve done!’ snapped his wife. ‘The poor child is crying. You know I can’t stand the tears of a child.’ She plopped down on a heavy kitchen chair and blew her nose loudly.
    ‘There, there, Bessie love, I didn’t mean nothing by it.’
    Rory wiped his eyes with his sleeve. These giants were certainly not like anything he’d expected. They seemed like gentle farm people, almost unaware of their immense size.
    ‘Give the boy something to eat,’ ordered the giant, pulling the stool up close by him at the table. Birch broke up a small corner of bread for Rory and her mother spooned out some thick stew which she placed on a small saucer in front of him. He didn’t know what was in the stew, but he gulped it down anyway.
    ‘He likes my cooking,’ said the wife, tickling Rory’s chin with her finger as if he were a baby, and insisting on giving him a second helping.
    ‘Where does he come from, Da? How did he get here?’
    Rory’s mouth was so full of the rich gravy and vegetables that he couldn’t reply.
    ‘The boy will tell us in his own good time,’ said her father.
    ‘He said he’s looking for his sister,’ stated Birch. ‘I wish I had a sister or brother,’ she added wistfully.
    ‘Birch Bigg, stop that nonsense! You know well that a giant family is always just a Ma and Da and a little one, always has been and always will be. That’s the giants’ way.’
    Birch looked crestfallen.
    Her mother gave her a warning glare and Birch busied herself pouring out the juice into the heavy glass goblets on the table. Rory was given what looked like an earthenware eggcup to drink from.
    ‘What’s your name, boy?’ asked the giant, crunching on a huge piece of raw celery.
    ‘Rory.’
    ‘Rrroorrie. ’Tis strange sounding.’
    ‘Rory Murphy.’
    ‘Murrffee,’ repeated the giant. I have never heard tell of any of your folk. Are you part dwarf or goblin, or more human?’
    ‘All human,’ said Rory firmly.
    ‘That’s a shame,’ murmured the giant, ‘a crying shame.’
    Rory gulped the strong-tasting juice and said nothing.
    They ate the rest of the meal in silence, and every now and then Rory glanced at the girl to try and ascertain what might happen. Birch concentrated on eating and would not return his gaze at all. Afterwards, Birch and her mother cleared the table and Birch’s father produced a large pipe which he filled with tobacco, and began to smoke. He lifted Rory up and placed him on a chair beside him.
    ‘Now, boy, I’ve been patient with you, more than patient, you must agree. Tell me how you came to Giants’ Cave. Have you been sent to spy on us, is that it?’
    Rory shook his head. ‘No sir! Honestly – no!’
    ‘How did you get here, then? Those short little legs of yours couldn’t carry you within miles of here!’
    ‘A huge hound that could fly through the sky carried me here. I don’t know how the hound found me or why he left me here in Giants’ Cave,’ replied Rory.
    The giant leaned forward his eyes wide, ‘The Shadow Hound,’ he breathed. ‘That was the Shadow Hound. ‘You have really seen him?’
    ‘Yes, sir, I rode on him! He was the one who brought me here.’
    Rory stared into the fire, wondering if the giants would believe his far-fetched story or just decide to tear him limbfrom limb, or whatever giants did to unwelcome guests.
    ‘I am searching for my sister, Mia. She disappeared from home, kidnapped by a crazy old woman from next door,’ he confided, hoping they would believe his far-fetched story. ‘It was the hound who brought me here. We flew all through the night searching for Mia, but there is no sign or trace of