Read Tyger Tyger for Free Online Page B

first deal offered. This is where negotiation comes in."
    "Negotiation?"
    "For instance"—she pushed back her chair and stretched—"I could delay my deadline just a little, and you could play me a game of chess while John reads. I'd wash the dishes when we're done. You could rinse. Everyone's happy."
    "As a fellow male, I feel it only fair to warn you, Finn," Mr. Wylltson said, "my blushing bride has never lost a game of chess. Or Monopoly, or checkers, or Risk. She's luring you like a lamb to the slaughter, boy."
    "John! I'm doing no such thing!"
    "Yes, she is," Aiden said. "Mom doesn't lose."
    "Right." Finn stood and picked up his plate. "It'll be the dishes, then."
    "I'll help." Teagan stood as well. It would take him forever to do the dishes one-handed. "Abby helped me cook, after all."
    "Excellent," Mr. Wylltson said. "That means I read. When I meet someone who says they're not 'much for books,' I can guarantee that they haven't met the right book yet." Mr. Wylltson stood up. "I'd be happy to make some introductions."
    Finn jumped right in as soon he had figured out the proper way to do things, rinsing while Teagan washed. Her arm tingled every time she leaned close to hand him a dish, like he was carrying some kind of electric charge.
    Mr. Wylltson came back in with two books. "I'm feeling poetic. My first choice for the evening: Songs
of Experience,
by William Blake!"
    "I don't think so," Mrs. Wylltson said.
    "Why not?"
    "'The Tyger' is tucked into that book, isn't it? That poem gave Aiden nightmares the last time you read it."
    "I'd forgotten that." Mr. Wylltson set the book down reluctantly. "The
Boyhood
Deeds of Fionn, then, by James Macpherson. I expect Finn knows this story." Mrs. Wylltson went back to selecting a brush. "But he'll enjoy Macpherson's version."
    "Why would he know the story if he hasn't read the book?" Aiden asked. It was past his bedtime, and he was starting to get grumpy.
    "Because," Mrs. Wylltson said, "Fionn is another way of saying 'Finn.' Your cousin Finn is named after the great Irish hero Fionn Mac Cumhaill."
    "This is the story of Fionn's parents," Mr. Wylltson said. "And how he came to be."
    The story was all in poetry, the kind of old words Teagan's father liked best. He read how Cumhaill, the leader of the fierce Fianna of Éireann—as Ireland was called in those days—fell in love with Muirne, the beautiful daughter of Tadg Mac Nudat. Tadg's veins were blue with royal blood, and his heart black with royal pride.
    When he found out that Cumhaill came from the Travelers Clan, a people who owned nothing but what they could carry on their backs and went about the country practicing the tinker's trade, Tadg forbade the marriage. Cumhaill and Muirne went to the Druids of the deep wood and were married there.
    Teagan tried to slide the dishes into the suds without allowing them to clink or clatter—then tried to hand them to Finn without touching him. Or looking at him. Because every time he caught her looking, he smiled, and she got goose bumps. It was a good thing her dad was reading and her mom painting, because she was sure they would notice. She focused on her father's voice.
    Tadg learned of the marriage and made a blood covenant with Fear Doirich, the goblin god, known as the Dark Man. The Dark Man cursed the lovers, sending goblins after them and their children through all eternity.
    Cumhaill was betrayed to his death, but Muirne, heavy with child, fled into the deep woods. There she gave birth to a baby boy and died soon after. The boy was raised by a druidess and a warrior woman. They named him Fionn Mac Cumhaill and taught him the skills he would need to fight against all goblinkind.
    "That's not a happy ending," Aiden said when Mr. Wylltson stopped reading. "I don't like it."
    "It's an Irish story, love," Mrs. Wylltson said. "We don't do happy endings."
    "Still, you're a very good reader," Finn said. "You read it almost as well as Mamieo tells it."
    "Thank