Dandelion Fire Read Online Free

ground or fell from the sky, it was simply there in front of her, cracking its jagged whip between heaven and earth. She didn't hear the thunder, she felt it, like a blow, and she was on her back, deaf and blinking, hail stinging her face.
    Gripping the key, she rolled over and crawled to Henry. His feet were bent beneath him and his armswere splayed out in the grass. The raggant crouched by his head, hooding itself with its dark wings. Henrietta looked at her cousin's face and panicked. He hadn't been struck. She knew he hadn't been struck. The bolt had been right there, but it hadn't hit him. She would have seen it hit him. Henry's face was white and lifeless. His mouth and eyes were open, his pupils were barely pinpricks.
    “Henry!” she yelled, and slapped his cheek. The hail surged, small stones falling in a cloud. They left tiny spots of red on Henry's skin and fell into his mouth, striking teeth and lips.
    “Henry!” Henrietta yelled again. Hailstones, melting, rested in his open eyes. She grabbed at the raggant's wing, pulled it over Henry's face, and pressed one hand against his chest. Relief surged through her when she felt the slow pound of life inside, but he needed to breathe. She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him onto his side, letting his legs straighten. The hail was already fading.
    “Breathe, Henry! Cough! Do something!” She banged on his back. The lightning couldn't have touched him. If it had, his shoes would be all melted and his hair would be frazzled. His fingertips would probably all be split wide and charred. She felt his ribs expand, and she sat back. Probably just shock. He scared easy. Then she saw his hand. His right palm was peeled open. It wasn't bleeding. The skin was curled back around a two-inch slice, and all the edges were black. Small blisters dottedhis palm, and larger ones crowded the freshly exposed skin inside the wound.
    Henry's body shook. His legs jerked, and he levered himself up and turned toward Henrietta, blinking.
    She frowned at him.
    “What happened?” he asked.
    “Lightning,” she said. “You went into shock or something.”
    “Did it hit me?”
    “No,” she said, and glanced at his hand. “I don't think so.”
    Henry tried to stand but couldn't. Henrietta gripped his shoulders, and he staggered to his feet. Together, they tripped around the side of the barn, and, while the last of the hail turned to rain, the two of them moved slowly toward the back of the house.
    Henry's joints were throbbing. His head felt chained to the ground. His vision clouded, and his stomach boiled. He grabbed at Henrietta, and she kept him from falling. She couldn't keep him from throwing up.
    He knew he was inside when the rain stopped and Henrietta's voice erupted beside him.
    “Mom! Dad!” she yelled. “Henry's sick!”
    Henry leaned against the kitchen wall. Voices and people swirled around him, and his eyes burned. So he shut them, trusting in the hands that pushed and pulled, lifted and moved. He ignored it all and was alone in his head.
    Alone with a dandelion.
    * * *
    Opening his eyes was not possible. His mind had no desire to try, and even if it had, his eyes didn't feel like they'd comply. But he could hear.
    “Frank, I think we should take him to the hospital.” Dotty's voice wavered. “Henrietta didn't think the lightning hit him, but what else would lay him out like this?”
    Henry felt a rough hand on his face. Frank's hand. “Doesn't have to hit you. It's a current. It can hit something else and still find a way into you.”
    “We should take him in.”
    Henry felt his bed creak when Frank stood up. “We'll wait till the morning. Sleep is better than bouncin' in a truck for forty-five minutes just to have a doctor tell us he needs his rest.”
    “I can't believe you just let him sleep beside all these awful doors,” Dotty muttered. “They give me the shivers. I never liked being up here, even when they were behind plaster. And speaking of plaster, Frank