Free Chill by Alex Nye Page B

he’d repeated that today, and so far things didn’t seem to be going well.
    “She’s not here.”
    “So I see.”
    “Anyway, I thought she’s usually hanging out with you these days,” Charles pointed out. “Doesn’t have time for us any more.”
    Samuel shrugged.
    Charles eyed him suspiciously, his dark eyes unnervingly like those Samuel had seen glaring at him in the mirror on Christmas Day.
    “Were you following us?” He challenged Samuel. “Because I’m warning you …” he struggled for a moment, at a loss for words. “I’m getting fed up with all this snooping around. You and Fiona are up to something, I know it.”
    Samuel said nothing, but Charles hadn’t finished yet.
    “It’s not a game, you know. Our dad died in that library.It’s not some stupid detective story …”
    “I didn’t say it was,” Samuel stammered.
    “Well, don’t then,” Charles snapped. “Don’t snoop about. Don’t lead my sister into trouble. And
don’t
treat our lives like it’s some kind of game for you to play. Because it isn’t.”
    He was shouting now, and even Sebastian was looking alarmed.
    “Charles, calm down!” he murmured. “It doesn’t matter.”
    Charles spun round to face his brother, his eyes dark with fury. “You’re wrong,” he said. “It
does
matter.”
    With that Charles sped off into the trees, leaving Sebastian gaping after him.
    “I’m sorry,” Samuel called after him. Then he added quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a game out of it. I know it matters …” But Charles wasn’t waiting around to listen. He had vanished into the darkness of the forest.
    Sebastian hesitated, looking uncomfortable. “I’d better go after him,” he mumbled.
    Samuel stood there alone in the snow, in the centre of the clearing, feeling utterly lonely. Something of what Charles had said stayed with him. Charles was deeply upset, confused and troubled by the atmosphere at Dunadd, and he was right, it wasn’t a game. It was deadly serious.
    He listened out for the boys, wondering if they would return, but no sound broke the silence. It didn’t seem as if they would ever accept him. Sheriffmuir was their little kingdom. So far they had never had to share it with anyone else. Now Samuel and his mother had come along to change all that. It was a pity things couldn’t be different, he reflected. If only Charles and Sebastian weren’t so remote, and … difficult. He wanderedabout the empty clearing, staring up at the tree house above.
    After a moment or two a white horse and rider slowly came into focus through the darkness of the trees. It was Fiona. Emperor stepped into the clearing, and she slid off his back.
    “What are you doing here?” she cried.
    “Looking for you, actually. But I seem to have stumbled into trouble.”
    “So you’ve found their secret camp. They’ll be furious with you, you know.”
    “I think Charles was furious with me for other reasons. He’s upset.”
    “Charles is always upset.”
    “No, I mean he’s really upset. That tree house is amazing, by the way.”
    “Dad had it made for the boys before he died,” Fiona said, squinting up at the structure built into the treetop. “He designed it himself and they’ve looked after it ever since. They make repairs when it gets damaged by wind or weather.” She glanced at Samuel now. “They won’t be pleased you found it.”
    She kicked at the campfire until the wisp of smoke vanished, then turned to him. “Come on. We’d better be getting back before it gets dark. Want a lift?”
    Together they headed off through the trees.
    The forest was very gloomy, and they had to bend their heads low beneath the branches.
    “Are you ever scared, coming through these woods on your own after dark?” Samuel asked her.
    “No. Why should I be?”
    They rode in silence for a few moments, two dark figures on a white horse, slowly negotiating the snowdrifts and the trees.
    Samuel wondered briefly where Charles and