Highfire

by Eoin Colfer

Squib felt like he’d been on tenterhooks forever, even though it had only been a couple of weeks. He felt like he couldn’t remember the sensation of being relaxed, though he could surely picture times when he must have been: smoking reefer out on the levee with Charles Jr., for example, or joining his momma for a viewing of Highlander, which was her favorite movie. Those were easy times, when he had surely felt his troubles lift off his shoulders for a couple of hours. But he couldn’t put his finger on that sensation right now. Seemed like those things had happened to another person in another life because this particular version of Squib Moreau was in thrall to a dragon.