Silver Hollow by Jennifer Silverwood Page A

hair.
    …
    Underhill refused to betray their destination until they were safely through the kitchens and out a door she had never been through before. Only two doors led away from Cook’s domain, one leading into the gardens and the other the stables.
    Separated from the house by a winding path drawing parallel to the main road, the pathway to the house - sized barn was a quick descent. This particular road connected to the one Slaine used to bring her here. Yet after passing the furthest wing of the castle it split off two different directions. One way swiveled back into the dark forest and the other turned to the stables.
    For the first time Amie was treated to her first hint of the grounds. To her right, the endless hedgerow rose high, hugging the back of the manor. To the left were even more wings to the colossal vine - covered fortress. With its curtain of ivy and pale ivory flowers covering its columns and towers, the house seemed to have sprouted from the earth. From this vantage point it was plain to see her new home was a castle and it was unlike any she had ever seen before in the movies.
    Eventually the path fell off a shallow dip of a green hill and from there stretched on forever. Unprepared for the open slope, Amie paused at the crest of the hill and blinked against the sudden sunlight. A sea of heather - swept emerald grass rippled with each gust of wind and stole her breath away.
    “Come , milady!” Underhill charged back up the hill to beckon her and called, “He will not accept anything but punctuality.”
    Doubting the merit behind Underhill’s threat , Amie nevertheless rush ed after her.
    The stables were deceptively small and bordered by a giant - sized corral. On closer inspection Amie realized this was because half of the barn was underground. She thought she could see the outline of the closed - in carriage that had born e her to the end of her journey. At the mouth of the tall wooden structure, another open - seated black buggy was being polished. Amie almost didn’t recognize Slaine’s footman when he wore his cap tightly over his mop of sun - kissed hair .
    “Halloo!” Underhill skipped ahead to meet the boy.
    Amie wanted to crawl into herself at the prospect of seeing those unsettling eyes. But he never once peeked up from his polish, even as Underhill badgered him.
    “Where is Mr. Cutterworthy? We did nay see glimpse nor hair of either of ye two old dragons at breakfast!”
    The tall boy visibly flinched when the wind spoke, carrying the inflections of a craggy voice to their ears.
    “Eddie! Ye mangy waif! Where are your manners?” Slaine limped around from the nearby fencepost, though Amie could have sworn he hadn’t been there the moment before. She couldn’t help smiling at the first face she had seen upon entering the Vale.
    Slaine wore a far less formal attire while off duty apparently. His breeches came up his waist, held up by plaid suspenders. While his plaid vest lay open, unbuttoned, it was partially covered by a calf - length gray trench coat studded with buttons. Silvery curls tossed madly wherever his bowl cap didn’t hold them in place. A s before, his pale eyes focused on her and a peculiar grin etched into his grizzled face.
    “Elisedd Underhill, I see you’ve brought me the Emerald Eyes and not a smidgeon too late!”
    Underhill crouched down until her legs were lost in a mushroom of skirts at Eddie’s feet and waved her hand. “Oh aye!” she called, “Forgive our belated arrival. She was stubbornly underdressed for the occasion!”
    Eddie predictably said nothing while observing everything. Much as she was coming to love her uncle, Amie wondered if he were secretly the only sane person in this theme park. As if her thought had summoned him, for one brief disturbing moment the stable hand craned his neck and met Amie’s eye.
    Slaine winked as he took her arm in his. “Survived the mad house, have ye? I never could stand to be stuffed and puffed indoors like