Samuel Blink and the Forbidden Forest by Matt Haig Page B

owing to the sudden commotion, was now yawning himself awake.)
    Samuel strained his eyes but saw nothing except the empty washing line and the grass field sloping up toward the—
    He saw something. A figure in the distance. A figure heading straight to the forest.
    â€œNo!” Samuel screamed, when he recognized the dark blue of his sister’s dress, blowing forward in the wind.
    Samuel ran out of the room, down the wooden hallway, shot past his aunt and opened the door. Once outside, he started sprinting up the slope toward Martha and the forest. As he ran he pulled the book from under his jumper and held it tight with his right hand. He thought about dropping it, but if Martha reached the forest, he would need to keep it with him.
    â€œMartha! Martha! Stop!”
    As he got closer, he was hardly conscious of the wind that blasted him or the soft muddy grass that pressed into his socks.
    â€œMartha!” Aunt Eda called. Then: “Samuel! Samuel!”
    Even his aunt’s voice was only half in his mind. It was as if the Samuel she was calling was someone else, running alongside him.
    â€œMarth-aaaaa!” he called.
    The only thing he focused on now was his sister, so he wasn’t aware of all the muddy hoofprints left by the huldres’ stallions the night before.
    â€œDON’T GO IN THE FOREST!” Samuel screamed, pushing the air out of his lungs. He could see her long hair blowing forward like the branches of the tall trees in front of her.
    â€œMARTHA! STOP! CREATURES! HULDRES! TROLLS! IN THE FOREST!”
    Martha was only walking, but she was so far ahead that Samuel knew he couldn’t reach her.
    â€œMARTHA! NO! COME BACK!”
    Martha didn’t turn or show any outward sign of having heard her brother. She just kept on walking—neither quickening her step nor slowing down—until she had reached the trees.
    And even then she kept on going, farther and farther, until she disappeared into the darkness of the forest.

Running Up the Hill
    She had gone.
    Samuel kept running toward the space between the trees, where his sister had been visible only a moment before, and tried to see farther into the darkness.
    â€œMARTHA! COME BACK! MARTHA!”
    He was running fast. Faster than when he had run to the forest before, in pursuit of the cat. And Aunt Eda was finding it difficult to catch up with him.
    True, he’d had a head start. He had shot, shoeless, out of the front door while Aunt Eda was still looking out of the window. But Samuel was running at such speed, and with such single-mindedness, that his aunt’s old legs couldn’t narrow the distance.
    â€œDon’t follow her!” she cried, breathless, as she ran. “Don’t go into the forest!”
    Of course, her words were useless. The fear of the forest was never going to be as great in Samuel’s mind as that of losing his sister.
    Even though she had explained to Samuel the story of what happened to Uncle Henrik, Aunt Eda knew that he would imagine he could enter the forest and bring his sister back. After all, Martha had only walked between the trees a few seconds ago. She wouldn’t have gotten very far, so Samuel would have every reason to believe he could find her.
    But Aunt Eda knew better. She knew that in this instance the usual rules of space and time couldn’t be trusted. She knew that whoever or whatever entered the forest never returned. It didn’t matter whether it was a white cotton bedsheet or a flesh-and-blood husband—the forest never let go of whatever came its way.
    And so when she saw Martha disappear between the trees, Aunt Eda knew she was already lost. The only hope she had now, as she ran up the grassy slope, was in reaching Samuel before he too disappeared forever.
    Damn these old legs , she thought as she struggled against the angle of the ground to gain speed.
    â€œSAMUEL! STAY THERE! SAMUEL!”
    But the boy still wasn’t listening. He was