guardian of the green hill

8/4/2019 Guardian of the Green Hill

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Henry Holt and Company, LLC Publishers since 1866

175 Fifh AvenueNew York, New York 10010

mackids.com

Henry Holt is a registered trademark o Henry Holt and Company, LLC.ext copyright 2011 by Laura L. Sullivan

Interior illustrations copyright 2011 by David WyattAll rights reserved.

Library o Congress Cataloging-in-Publication DataSullivan, Laura L.

Guardian o the Green Hill / Laura L. Sullivan ; [illustrations by David Wyatt].1st ed. p. cm.

Sequel to: Under the Green Hill.ISBN 978-0-8050-8985-1

[1. SupernaturalFiction. 2. FairiesFiction. 3. Brothers and sistersFiction.4. SuperstitionFiction. 5. EnglandFiction.] I. Wyatt, David, ill. II. itle.

PZ7.S9527Gu 2011 [Fic]dc22 2010029231

First Edition2011Book designed by Elizabeth ardiff

Printed in September 2011 in the United States o America by

R. R. Donnelley & Sons Company, Harrisonburg, Virginia1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2


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She Will Be My Creature

M , more bones than skin, the artisthunched over his easel. He added shading under the eyes and

thickened the hair, then growled in disgust. It was still nothinglike her, nothing like what he wanted her to be. Te eyes wereonly wist ul, not yet weak and sorrow ul. Te round chin lookedtoo strong. . . . It would never tremble. Even the short curlingsilver hair looked too tidy, nothing like the unkempt locks o onegiven up to despair. And that is how he needed Phyllida Ash

hopeless, sel - pitying, cringing, and powerless.He tore the paper off with a ourish and ed it to his goat.I am only hal the artist my ather was, he said bitterly, sketch-

ing out new lines on a resh sheet. rue, said the goat, but you are twice the magician. He

munched on the paper contemplatively. Perhaps i you switched

to charcoal.You just dont like the taste o ink, Pazhan, the man said.


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Be glad I dont use oils. I will, though, just as soon as I can wormmy way in. Into the house, into her condence . . . and into her

place at last. One good sketch, and Ill have a hold on her, enoughto create an opening. Ten when she sits or me, when I can doa proper portrait, she will be my creature.

Will she really do as you say, Gwidion? Shell give it up, justlike that?

Youve seen what I can do.

Sketches to make the innkeeper give you a ree night and aull agon. Portraits to charm some gullible young womaninto leaving her loved ones to ollow you . . . till youve had yourll. Ive seen that, sure enough. But this is something else entirely.Phyllida Ash is a strong woman, bred to her role or generations,and she has power ul protectors. She may keep the airies in

check, but do you think they dont love her?What o you, Pazhan? Do you love her?He shrugged his goat shoulders. Tat is neither here nor there.

I am part o your amily. So long as there are Tomas men, I am yours, not hers, till such time as you strike me thrice in three days.

Which didnt quite answer the question, but Gwidion nod-

ded. My only inheritance. My athers only inheritance, and hisathers be ore him, when it could have all been ours. All mine.Have I been such a bad bargain? the goat asked archly, but

Gwidion ignored him.Soon I will come into my own. No more wandering, a penni-

less rover. No more living by my wits, day to day, town to town.

Here is where I belong, Pazhan, here at the Rookery, at the GreenHill. Whether they like it or not, I am home.


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They Came to Me

M M a last plump jade-green berry romthe thorny hedge just be ore the Gooseberry Wi e could lurch

her corpulent body close enough to nip. She gnashed her small,grinding teeth in pique as Meg escaped with her prize.You shouldnt tease her, Phyllida chided rom across the

lawn. She takes her job very seriously.Te Gooseberry Wi e was a lumbering, bloated caterpillar as

long as Megs arm. She haunted berry shrubs, guarding them

rom the marauding hands o youngsters, preserving the ruitsor the cooks tarts and ools. Meg looked into her squinty eyesrom a sa e distance, but ound hersel compelled to look instead

at the large black alse eyespots on the top o her pale-green head.Im sorry, Meg told her. I want them or Bran.Te Gooseberry Wi e shivered her segmented body in annoy-

ance, making each spiny witch- wart hair along her back standon end.


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Meg carried her hand ul o berries back to Bran. He loungedon a chaise, scowling. Every ew minutes he tried to rise, mutter-

ing something about wood to chop or rents to collect, but hisamily shoved him down again. He was restless, urious at hisimposed sloth, but too weak to protest. Afer all, hed died onlytwo weeks ago.

It was teatime, a custom the children wished had ollowed thecolonists to America. Here in England they realized how wel-

come a ourth meal is to someone who spends the better parto the day tramping through the woods, running, playing, andghting. Te more sedate adults, Phyllida and Lysander Ash,contented themselves with tea and thin, oating lemon slices anda ew McVities digestive biscuits. Te childrenRowan, Meg,Silly, and James Morgan, Finn Fachan, and Dickie Rhysgorged

themselves on scones and clotted cream, sardines on toast, eggs,seedcakes, nut cakes, and ruitcakes. o Phyllidas horror, theyinsisted their tea be served cold and sickeningly sweetened, andthough they consented to lemons, they looked at them suspi-ciously i they werent cut into wedges.

Now the carnage o crumbs lay scattered across the tables, and

the children (save James, who was studying a small civilization oblack ants) were playing croquet on the manicured lawn, makingup rules as they went along. At times they seemed to con usecroquet and cricket.

Out o bounds! Silly shouted.No such thing, said Rowan, who really had no idea.

Ow, my shin! Dickie wailed.Sorry, no depth perception, Finn said, in a tone that sounded


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ar rom apologetic. My point, he added, stopping to pull hisblack silk eyepatch into place. Te game had degenerated into

something like violent polo without the horses. Silly compen-sated somewhat or their lack with her raucous neighing laugh.Dickie dropped out, joining Meg, while the others continued

in deadly earnest. Rowan and Finn, antagonistic as ever, mighthave caused each other some serious harm i not or Silly gettingbetween them, not as peacemaker but with her own keen desire

to beat the boys. Legs were struck, eet trampled, tur s uprootedas they pounded across the lawn. Soon the ri e crack o malletupon ball aded into the distance and peace reigned, more or less,in the English countryside.

Meg and Dickie drifed to the hedgerow and looked acrossthe sunken wall o the ha-ha to the sheep-strewn meadow. Te

sheep, white with black aces, were echoed in the sky, deep lapisdotted with small white clouds barely tinged with a darknessthat hinted at a distant storm. Tey grazed contentedly, unawareo the little men in green who methodically sheared the sofest wool rom their bellies.

Teyre like chipmunks, Meg said absently, much to Dickies

baffl ement.Te sheep? he asked, perplexed.Meg gave a little laugh. Oh, I orgot you cant see them. Te

Weavers are out among the sheep.And they look like chipmunks?No, no, I didnt even realize I was talking out loud. I meant

airies are getting to be like chipmunks were back at Arcadia.Arcadia, sylvan seat o learning in upstate New York, was where


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all their parents taught. Tey were pretty common, but theydidnt let themselves be seen. Ten when you saw one, it was always

a little thrill. Te airies are getting to be like that. Common- place somehow, not surprising anymore, but still extraordinary.She didnt think she had expressed hersel very well, but Dickieunderstood.

Tere seem to be more o them than usual, Meg went on.Maybe its just easier to see them or some reason. On the grounds,

too. Phyllida told me, back be ore the war, that airies dont gen-erally come on the Rookery property, except or a ew, like thebrownie or the Gooseberry Wi e. But I see other ones here everyday now. Te Weavers and ower airies, and I even stepped on astray sod yesterday, right here on the lawn.

I wish I could see them, Dickie said.

You can stand on my oot i you like. You said thats one way, stand on the oot o someone who can see airies.He sighed longingly but shook his head. And end up like Finn,

with a hazel stick in my eye? No, thank you. Tey dont like spies.Anyway, Ihave seen airies, the ones who wanted to be seen, and

or the most part I didnt enjoy it much. Despite his words, Meg

noticed something like pride on Dickies ace. She rememberedthat evening when she was racing to the Green Hill as Seelie cham- pion in Rowans place. Every horror o the Unseelie Court hadtried to stop her. Te worst was the skinless Nuckelavee.

How brave Dickie had been that night, luring it away andoiling it with its nemesis, resh water. Hed pooh- poohed her

praise later, saying, Nothings so bad i you know what its weak-nesses are. But Meg was still impressed by his valor. Even in bright,


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unthreatening daylight, when he was his pale, pudgy, sniffl ingsel again, he possessed, in her eyes at least, the air o a hero.

I wonder why we can all see them . . . Rowan and Silly and James, I mean.Youre related to Phyllida. It must be in the blood. Meg . . .

He hesitated, not sure how to go on. Phyllida doesnt have anychildren, you know.

Meg just looked at him.

I mean, you our are it. And rom what she says, its always a woman o her bloodline whos the Guardian o the Green Hill.So thats just you and Silly. You two are the only ones lef. I was just wondering i somedayits not a nice thing to think about,but she is aw ully old, and someday . . .

Megs eyes widened in alarm. Oddly enough, it had never

really occurred to her that she might be next in line. No! With all the chaos o the Midsummer War, she had been too preoccupied to carry things to their natural conclusion. Te pres-ent was enough to ll her head, and though she had some vagueidea that she had an obligation to learn about airies, this sugges-tion o being Guardian was shocking.

Phyllida will live a long time . . . a very long time. Oh, howshe hoped so, or love o the old woman and, now, or newer sel -ish reasons.

Hasnt she said anything to you about it?No, nothing. Come to think o it, there had been vague

hints, mentions o her birthright, o the duties and obligations

that come with gifs, o her amilys heritage. But she thought it was just history, nothing to do with her own uture.


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Seeing how uncom ortable Meg was, Dickie wisely let it drop.He was just wondering i asking Meg to point out which par-

ticular sheep were being sheared would count as an eye-losingoffense when they were interrupted by hooves clattering on thecobblestone path that led to the croquet lawn.

A big roan horse skidded to a halt inches rom Phyllida andLysander, panting and lathered in sweat. His rider tumbled offand made the barest bow be ore gasping out, Please, Lady, you

must come quickly!Phyllida got to her eet, dusting the crumbs rom her lavenderrock and anchoring her rose-bedecked straw hat more rmly on

her head. What is it, Cain? Whats amiss?I dont know, maam. Young Evan came running to the sta-

bles and said whoever was astest on a horse should go or the

Lady. Jim said he was, but by the time he was nished bragging,I was on Light oot and away.Evan didnt give you any clue what it was about? Phyllida

asked even as Lysander hailed a servant and gave instructionsthat their carriage be readied.

Its at Molls house, is all I know. Youre to go to Molls

house.Is it the baby? Oh, dear, has the doctor been sent or? I dontknow why olk will still call me be ore the doctor or scalds andchicken pox. Cain, i your horse isnt done in, please ride or Dr.Homunculus and send him afer us, just in case. Lysander, thecoach

Nearly ready, my dear, he said calmly. Tese little emergen-cies cropped up all the time and might be anything rom a


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broken leg to a cow gone dry. I a pretty daughter stayed out allnight, Phyllida was called, on the certainty that the airies had

snatched her. I a man went astray, they looked to her or a charmto win him back rom what was undoubtedly a glamour o somesort. I dishes broke a bit too ofen, it was surely the result o mis-chievous bogies who had to be banished. Phyllida had some seri-ous duties to per orm as Guardian o the airy sanctuary, theGreen Hill, but more ofen she played a role somewhere between

patron and witch doctor or her tenants and the villagers oGladysmere.Bran tried to push himsel up, but Phyllida was instantly at

his side. Stay, Bran dear. Youll open your wound again. Shemight be his daughter, grown old in the real world while he wastrapped by the airies under the Green Hill, but sometimes she

had to scold him like a mother. Te arrow hole in his chestmark o his great sacrice in the Midsummer Warhad nearlyclosed, but any vigorous movement still caused him great pain. Ihe wasnt very care ul, the injury seeped thin pink-red bloodthrough the bandage.

But i its the airies

I its the airies, I can handle it mysel , Phyllida snapped. Idid it or seventy years without you.Bran inched, and Phyllida looked abashed. She hadnt meant

to remind him how he had abandoned his wi e and children orthe twilight world under the Green Hill.

Its likely nothing. You stay here and heal. Let May bring you

some more tea.Bran mumbled something about tea coming out o his ears,


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and that hed had enough mollycoddling, but he settled backinto the chaise.

Can we go with you? Meg asked as her great-great-auntand -uncle made their way to the circular drive at the ront o theRookery.

I dont see why not, Phyllida said. It will be good or you.You can see a bit more o the countryside, meet some o the ten-ants. Its best to know the ins and outs o those who live and work

on your land. Makes everything run so much more smoothly.But its not my land, Meg thought.Can James come too?Phyllida assented, but when Meg asked i he wanted to go, he

told her with great brevity that he was still delving into ant cul-ture and couldnt be disturbed in his scientic and anthropologi-

cal endeavors. He explained this all with the word no. At our years old, he was exquisitely single-minded.Hell be ne there, Lysander said. May and June will look

afer him. May and June were maids, twin sisters born an hourapart, but in two different months.

Meg, less trusting, called out to her brother and sister in the dis-

tance where they still sported in their renzied game with Finn.Rowan! Silly! Were going on a drive with Phyllida. Tey answered with shouts and screams. Did you hear me? Watch James, will you?

Rowan waved and called something that sounded like anaffi rmative, so Meg ran back to the drive where the carriage,driven by a liveried coachman, was just rolling up. Te two dapple-

gray horses stomped and icked their tails, annoyed at havingbeen taken rom their oats on such short notice.


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