Read Online The Young Dread by Arwen Elys Dayton - Free Book Online

dancer during a particularly sad or serious part of the performance. And then, without warning, she would move at an entirely different speed. As they watched, there was a bird call from the meadow, and the Young Dread’s head whipped around, almost too fast for their eyes to follow the motion. When she had identified the source of the noise, she continued on her way, as steady and fluid as a marble sculpture brought to life.
    “Watch this,” Quin whispered, so softly that John could barely hear her, though his head was still only inches from hers. Silently, she pulled her knife from her waistband. She waited until the Dread had walked into a patch of sunlight that would make her momentarily blind to motion in the shadows. Then Quin drew back her arm and threw the knife at the Young Dread as hard as she could.
    The blade arced through the shadows expertly, aimed just ahead of where the Dread was walking, so she would carry herself straight into its path and it would impale the side of her head.
    Yet that was not what happened.
    The Young Dread continued her steady approach until the weapon was almost upon her. Then her whole body exploded into action. Her right arm whipped forward and caught the knife out of the air. She spun around so quickly, she almost appeared to blur against the forest backdrop, and she released the blade back toward them much like a thundercloud releases a bolt of lightning. It was propelled at such high speed that they could hear it whistling through the air, and both John and Quin ducked.
    It made a perfect arc from the Dread, around the edge of the cluster of trees, and buried itself to the hilt just inches from where Quin’s hand still rested against the tree trunk. The vibration of its impact traveled all the way down the tree, and John could feel it in his feet.
    “Nice shot,” Quin called, waving at the girl. “Maybe you’ll teach me how to do that sometime.”
    The Dread’s eyes traveled slowly over their hiding spot, almost as if she were examining them minutely, even from that distance. Something about her gaze made them uncomfortable, and instinctively Quin and John moved a step away from each other, as though their intimacy could not survive her fierce stare. The Young Dread looked as if she might say something, but she never got the chance.
    There was a new noise above the forest. The Dread and Quin and John looked up to see an aircar, throwing off a low vibration, circling to land in the commons. An aircar was such a rare sight on the estate that even the Dread stared at the vehicle for several seconds before turning away and resuming her steady walk.
    John and Quin hurried to the edge of the meadow in time to see a man get out of the car and head toward Briac’s cottage on the far side of the commons. When John caught sight of the man, he began to run, sticking to the trees but moving quickly, trying to get a better view.
    Quin caught up with him. “What is it?”
    The visitor turned for a moment, looking around the estate. John stopped running. Was he imagining things? The man’s face looked familiar. But sometimes, when he was on the estate for months at a time, far from London and crowds, he found that every new face looked familiar.
    “I don’t know,” he said. “Do you think you can find out who he is?”
    “I’m sure Briac will tell us if it’s important.”
    “I’m not,” John said quietly. He glanced at Quin and said mischievously, “But if eavesdropping makes you nervous…”
    “Nervous?” She pushed him indignantly, and he was pleased to notice her now studying the visitor with more interest. John wanted as few surprises as possible when it came to Briac. “Hmm,” she said. “I’ll come find you if I learn anything.” She kissed John lightly on the lips. “I know Briac will do right by you tonight. He’ll say something harsh, but he’s not going to stop your training. Of course not.”
    With that, she ran ahead of him, toward the cottages. John