Read Hollow by Caroline Peckham Chapter 13 –
Iwoke with a jolt as if a phantom hand had shaken me and I pushed myself upright in the enormous bed as I worked to take in my surroundings. I groaned, my luxurious sleeping space calling me back into its embrace. Never had I slept so soundly or so comfortably in all my life. Despite the dangers surrounding me, the bed I’d chosen for my place of rest had been nothing short of sinful in the way it had caressed my body all night long.
If only I could have brought it with me, I certainly would have done.
The room was dark, only the faint glow of light from the embers in my fireplace offering illumination. But something told me that dawn was close. My slumber had been disturbed by the distant sound of singing and I frowned as I recalled it, wondering if it had been real or just a part of my troubling dreams.
I gathered up the second and most precious of the two books I’d brought with me into the Taking Trees – Rissa’s childhood journal. The pages were dog-eared and grey from the amount of times I’d fallen asleep reading over her words, pretending I could hear her voice between the letters, imagining she was a little closer when I consumed them. They contained nothing of real value to anyone else, but to me, they were the most precious thing in all the world.
I stood, shivering a little as my bare feet pressed to the cold floorboards. I glanced at the door, relaxing as I found the chair I’d wedged beneath the handle still firmly in place.
Hendrix may have kept his distance during the night but I knew he had some scheme in mind for me yet, and I was going to be far away from here before he had the chance to act upon it.
I’d run from him last night, fled like the pathetic human he judged me to be and proven to him that I feared his wrath despite my attempts to conceal it. My heart had still been pounding when I’d finally accepted that he wasn’t going to hunt me after all and I’d taken my opportunity to sleep.
I swallowed as I thought back on my meal with the brutal Fae, my fingers pressing to the tender skin where he’d bitten me like the beast he was.
Heat flared in my veins at the memory, the way his stubble had grazed my throat, his fingers pressing against my skin, his lips lingering for just a moment as his teeth withdrew…
He was a monster of the deadliest design and I needed to escape him before I fell prey to his madness again.
I tiptoed to the heavy drapes which hung before the windows and twitched them aside to reveal the shutters beneath. A small crack at their edge allowed the faintest whisper of deep grey light to shine through it and I was relieved to find that my instincts had woken me right on time.
I hadn’t intended to sleep right through the night. My plan had been to nap for a couple of hours at most so that I wouldn’t miss the sunrise. Truthfully I hadn’t wanted to do that, but the exhaustion in my bones had demanded it. Either way, I’d slumbered for what must have been ten hours. I wasn’t entirely certain how I’d managed to wake right at the crack of dawn but I was endlessly relived to have done so.
I hurried back across the room, dressing myself in the Fae clothes which were more suited to traversing the forest. The material was as soft as butter against my skin, the black trousers fitted yet supple, a warmth to them which defied the thinness of the fabric. I added a white tunic to the outfit, its billowing sleeves a little more decorative than practical but it was comfortable and easy to move in. The boots fit me surprisingly well and I laced them tightly, wondering if the forest itself had meant to lead me here so that I might find the supplies I’d been in such desperate need of.
I wrapped a dark green cloak around my shoulders last, the material sumptuous and warm while the colour promised me anonymity within the folds of the woodland. All I had to do was make it into the embrace of the trees and I’d quickly be lost within them, leaving Hendrix and his brutish disposition far behind in my wake.
The bag I’d stuffed full of supplies was heavy but I refused to second guess what I’d packed and quickly secured Rissa’s journal inside it. I’d snuck back out to the pantry once I’d been certain my Fae captor wasn’t actually hunting the halls for me and had filled the pockets of my fine gown with food from the kitchen. I’d stolen a few sharp knives too, meaning to use them against him had he come for me, but now they would accompany me in my escape.
In addition to that I still had the remains of my old supplies, my books and now some spare clothes and a blanket too. I doubted I’d find shelter in a luxurious castle again tonight and though I would sorely miss the comfort of this place, no meal nor fine bed could make up for the abhorrence of Hendrix’s company.
The shutters groaned as I unbolted them and eased them open, the low whine making my pulse spike as I glanced back towards the door and the chair which remained stoically wedged before it.
There wasn’t a breath of sound from anywhere in the castle and I could only imagine that the great Hendrix was resting his massive head on plush pillows of his own. No doubt maintaining such an alarmingly over-inflated ego was hard work and he’d exhausted himself in hauling it around so much at dinner that he would sleep on for hours yet.
“I hope you don’t choke on your own drool,” I muttered in place of a farewell to the obnoxious Fae, then reached for the latch to the window.
My fingers brushed the cool metal and I couldn’t help but hesitate as I peered out through the glass. Years in the forest had allowed a green film to build up over the square panes and I had to squint through it to gain a look at the walls and tangled rosebushes that made up a long-neglected garden below.
It was only a breath beyond pitch darkness outside, the slightly-paling light filtering through the trees all too slowly. Would the beasts that roamed the forest at night have retreated yet? Did this teasing whisper of dawn count as daybreak?
I swallowed back a lump of fear in my throat, counting slowly back from ten and painting an X against the glass with my forefinger.
“Spirits, please let me pass,” I begged in a low whisper. Then I turned the latch and thrust the window wide.
I braced, my muscles tensing and features pinching in anticipation of an attack, of some unseen monster lurching from the trees to devour me for daring to step out into the night.
But nothing happened.
Cool air fragranced with the scent of the roses that littered the forgotten garden below my window washed over my face in an amused greeting and I forced myself to relax.
It was going to be okay. Dawn was breaking. It was time for me to move.
I leaned forward, peering down at the drop which seemed so much further than I’d been expecting. I was certainly high enough to break my neck in a fall but I couldn’t back out of this now.
I closed my eyes to centre myself. I’d snuck out of my own bedroom window many times and clambered over the little lean-to beneath it before scrambling to the ground and hurrying out to practice with my slingshot or run laps around the village while no one would be awake to watch me.
I was well used to seeing this time of day and well used to the fear that came with risking the wrath of the night, though admittedly my village held far fewer threats than this place did even with the risk of Hollows and the creeping trees.
With a steadying breath, I hunted for footholds and planned a path to the ground. There was an iron drainpipe around six feet to the right of my window which ran to the garden below. Between me and it was little more than crumbling stone and some overly enthusiastic vines but I would make it.
I clambered onto the windowsill and turned to grip it as I lowered myself over the edge.
The toes of my boots scrambled against the brickwork, hunting for the gap I’d spotted in them. My arms trembled as I fought to find it and lowered myself further, my muscles straining with the effort as I cursed and swung my legs, still trying to locate it.
I’d promised myself I wouldn’t look down, and the moment I broke that oath I almost cried out in fear, my boots still scraping against flat stone, my fingers slipping as my weight threatened to undo them, the fall beckoning with glee-
My toes struck the edge of the gap I’d spotted and I finally managed to push some weight into my leg.
“Fuck this castle,” I hissed to the wind. “Fuck this forest and the Fae – one Fae more than the rest. Fuck all of them and please, for the love of the spirits, don’t let me die while trying to climb out of a damn window.”
I reached towards the drainpipe, my fingers thankfully finding a gap to cling to at a midway point between me and my promise of salvation. Bit by bit, I eased closer to the black iron, clinging to the castle wall like a damn spider – though with far less grace to my descent.
When my hand finally met with the cool metal, I nearly sobbed with relief. I lurched across to it, my toes wedging against one of the fastenings which held it bolted to the wall before my other hand made it to the pipe too.
I clung to that rusted, iron pipe like a babe to its mother’s breast and tried to pretend I was shaking from the cold rather than the fear of the fall. I chanced a look down again, the drop still the same but somehow much less terrifying with a clear path to the ground now laid out for me.
I began to shuffle down the drainpipe, inch by inch, making my escape like the world’s most determined sloth. I didn’t care. This was my path to escape and it was all going to plan despite the odds.
The light was gradually paling, easing my concerns about being in the forest at night, and a grin slowly spread across my face. I could do this. I could make an escape in the dead of the night and I would find a way to hunt the spirits of the forest and seize them too. I was going to do what I’d come here for, no matter the cost. I would prove that I was no weak-
I cried out in alarm as something sharp pierced the skin of my hand, some small beast taking a bite out of me in my moment of triumph.
I snatched my hand free of the drainpipe before I could think better of it, my cry turning into a shriek as I pitched backwards, my arm flailing wildly.
With a surge of will, I threw myself back towards the wall, grabbing the drainpipe again, though the jolt of movement saw me slipping several feet towards the ground.
I tightened my hold and jerked to a halt, my eyes clamped shut against the oncoming demise I’d somehow avoided.
As I peeled my lids back, I turned my injured hand, expecting to see the tell-tale double piercings of a drath spider’s fangs, knowing my end would be rushing for me within the hour without antivenom to save me.
I blinked at the large, brown thorn which stuck out of my skin, a tiny spec of blood ringing the small wound.
I arched my neck and spied the rose vines a few feet above me where they’d tangled with the drainpipe, their pale pink blooms seeming to laugh at me as I found myself not in the hands of death but suffering from a pricked palm.
Groaning at my dramatic imagination, I plucked the thorn free with my teeth and continued my slow descent with shame clinging to me and the definite relief that there had been no witnesses to me panicking over a thorn. Though in this forest, who was to say a rose couldn’t be lethal?
I pushed my thoughts away from that path before I could allow myself to believe I was dying again and thumped down onto solid ground with a cocky smirk. Who was a prisoner now?
I looked about, the spot I’d descended into surrounded by low walls, rotting trellises and decorative statues which represented various woodland animals. I didn’t linger to inspect it more than that, needing to lose myself in the depths of the forest before that boorish Fae realised I was gone.
My steps led me back and forth through the rose garden, their sweet scent cloying as if it had puddled here and couldn’t escape. I rounded a wall, then ducked beneath a trellis which sagged with the weight of the white roses that had utterly smothered it and finally found myself looking out into nothing but trees.
“So long, you arrogant ass,” I told the castle at my back. “I’ll miss the way your vulgar personality almost made me want to gouge out my own eyes and stuff them in my ears.” I held my middle finger up over my shoulder and strode triumphantly into the trees.
“I would say I’m impressed but you were painfully slow in that descent and almost lost your life to a thornbush,” a low voice drawled behind me, and I whipped around in alarm.
Hendrix stood leaning with his back to a towering ash tree, his foot kicked up nonchalantly while he slowly sliced a pear with a hunting knife and peered at me from within the depths of his hood like I was little more than an irritation to his day.
I stilled, my hand going to my pocket and curling around a stone while I snatched my slingshot from my belt with the other. It had been little work to fix the band back into place and I felt better with my weapon in hand, no matter how meagre it might seem in the face of the enormous Fae.
“I’m leaving,” I growled defiantly, and his posture didn’t change while he lifted a slice of pear to his lips and ate it.
“Are you?”
“Yes,” I growled.
He said nothing, didn’t move to stop me, didn’t do anything at all other than eat another slice of that damn pear.
I scowled at him, then took a step further into the trees. Still, he made no move, did nothing at all. In fact, his focus wasn’t even on me anymore while he just ate his pear and leaned against that tree like a psychopath.
Good. That was good.
I started walking, my pace increasing with each step, my head turning to keep him in my line of sight until too many trees divided us to make that possible and I finally broke into a run.
There was no sound of pursuit, no cries for me to stop. I was free. He was letting me go. I didn’t know why or what reasoning he had, but I didn’t care because I was going to run and run until the distance between us was impossible for him to breech and even if he changed his mind there would be no finding me.
I shoved my slingshot back into my belt and raced into a wide clearing in the trees, birdsong falling to an abrupt halt at my arrival and just as victory sung my name in a sweet and breathy voice, I crashed headlong into an enormous body built of water and ice.
The Bear spirit became incorporeal as I collided with it, my cry of surprise turning into a splutter of alarm as I was engulfed in icy water and washed right off of my feet to slam down into the dirt.
The Bear disappeared in a rush of water and through dripping lashes and heaving coughs, I found a pair of boots striding towards me, kicking up water and leaves.
Hendrix tossed the core of the pear aside and strode closer like he was simply out for a morning stroll, his hood shrouding his eyes and making him appear as little more than a demon.
I cursed him, flipping over and scrambling away, trying to make a run for it, but I didn’t even get on all fours before his hand locked around my ankle and he started dragging me back towards the castle with a dry melody rolling from his throat.
I kicked and fought, spluttering and coughing in the muddy froth the Bear’s water had created along the forest floor, but nothing I did made the slightest bit of difference. He hauled me all the way back to the castle before depositing me on the floor of the dining room beside the fire.
“You’re late for breakfast,” he clipped, taking his seat at the head of the table.
I fought against the sodden weight of my cloak and was forced to drop both it and my pack to the ground before I could claw my way upright again.
“What the fuck was that?” I demanded furiously, my tunic clinging to my body, hair and clothes dripping mud and water in a puddle which was slowly spreading to consume the rug.
“That was tame compared to what I could have done. So stop whining and eat. I don’t need you fainting on me while we’re out there in the trees, and you know now how futile any attempts at escape will be. Why don’t you just do us both a favour, give up and remain silent unless speech becomes utterly unavoidable.”
I looked back towards the door which he hadn’t bothered to close behind us, then glanced at my drenched pack and cursed as I hurried to open it, tossing the clothes and sodden food aside before finally hauling my precious books out.
I sighed in relief as I found the bindings around them had proven their worth yet again, keeping them dry and saving them from ruin. With a huff of irritation, I sat down heavily in my chair, placed my books beside my plate and proceeded to eat as much of his delicious food as I could manage in the most obnoxious way possible. At least he didn’t seem inclined to tie me up and make a show of feeding me. His moods were as changeable as the wind though, so I was going to devour it quickly before he reconsidered letting me eat freely this time.
Perhaps he’d won this round, but clearly he wasn’t looking to hurt me and wanted me for some other purpose. So I’d simply have to try and get away from him again. And again. And again. However many attempts it took, no matter how hopeless it seemed. I’d find my way free of him and claim every spirit remaining in this forest for good measure.
“I believe I know where the Fox is hiding,” Hendrix said, pulling me from my mutinous intentions. “And I’m going to take you with me while I hunt it.”
I scowled at him while ripping into a bread roll with my teeth.
“Why?” I asked through a mouthful of food, and he sneered at me in a way which only made me want to irritate him further.
He cocked his head at me like I was a flea he was contemplating squashing and I reached across the table to take another roll and some fruit. Surprisingly, he did answer me.
“You’re to be my bait,” he said, amusement coating his tone, and I bristled at the implication, the word setting me on edge. What did he mean? Was his plan to tie me up in a clearing like a sacrificial lamb and pounce upon the spirit while it was preoccupied with devouring me?
“Bait?” I asked slowly, lowering my roll while trying to stay calm.
His lips curled with amusement at the change in my tone, and for a moment, I was startled by the difference that small smirk made to his cold features. He was Fae, so of course he was beautiful, but until that moment all of his expressions had seemed forced, like he was a vessel void of true emotion, a statue with a breath of life within him, the artist who had carved him too caught up in creating perfection in his lines to waste time on offering out any humanity. But that smirk revealed a slight imbalance to his smile, a dimple in his right cheek, a glint of something wicked in his green eyes, real feeling behind the words, even if that feeling was cruelty.
“You do scream so prettily, lightwing. I believe every feral beast in this forest may be drawn to the poetry of your cries. And I intend to be waiting in the shadows when they arrive.”
I shifted in my seat, refusing to show fear at his plan, but the thought of it set my teeth on edge. I lifted my chin in defiance.
“You aren’t here to hunt beasts. You’re in pursuit of spirits,” I reminded him. “And they are not motivated by death and ruin the way other monsters are.”
The scathing look I offered him made it clear that my jibe had been intended for him but he only lifted his glass of water to his lips and sipped it slowly, his piercing eyes never straying from mine.
I stared back at him despite every instinct willing me to break the contact.
Hendrix thumped his glass down onto the table and I flinched at the sudden sound, making him snort in amusement.
“The spirits lost their minds when the curse was struck. They’re just as feral and bloodthirsty as every other monster in these woods.”
I rolled my eyes and reached for an apple, uncertain why I was surprised. The Fae may have played at being sophisticated and highly knowledgeable but they were as ferocious and spiteful as any other monster. In fact, they were worse. A beast had no way of knowing it was a beast. It couldn’t reason or try to justify its actions. It worked on nothing but instinct and need. Hunger, shelter, territory. The Fae were vicious out of selfishness.
“What is that look for?” he asked when I failed to expand on my judgement of his assessment.
“You really care? I was under the impression that I was an irrelevant human whose opinions meant less than dirt to you.”
“Well yes, obviously, but you might as well fill the silence with your irrelevance rather than letting it fester.”
I pursed my lips, choosing not to comment on my feelings about him and his kind and instead focusing on his dismissive assessment of the spirits. “The spirits here may have lost their way, but they were born of pure magic with the sole purpose of protecting this forest. I don’t think those instincts have diminished completely and neither do I believe that they are entirely without thought or reason in their current state.”
“So what are they then?” he asked, though clearly he didn’t think much of my assessment.
“Lost,” I muttered, the word a sting on an old but unhealed wound. “And in need of our help.”
Hendrix snorted, shaking his head at me like I was some foolish child, and I bristled at his arrogant sense of superiority.
“The forest literally told us so when we arrived here. They need to be found and reunited. Doesn’t that sound like a mother in search of her children or at least a queen missing her army?” I pressed.
Hendrix considered my words while he chewed, then shrugged. “What mother requires their children to stop them from devouring the entire world the way this forest is attempting without its spirits to hold it in check?”
I stared at him in complete disbelief. “That’s precisely what a mother would do if she lost her children. She’d tear the world apart in her desperation to retrieve them and damn the ones who fell to her wrath.”
Hendrix still appeared unconvinced, so I grabbed my precious book from its place beside my plate and opened it with enough force to make the cutlery rattle, pausing on the chapter which spoke of the Dragon.
“At its heart, the Dragon is a protector,” I read. “It patrolled the trees at dawn and dusk, circling them and catching up to any who might think to creep beyond their bounds. With scales lit by starlight and dancing on the powerful heart of a storm cloud, its mighty roar would make the leaves bristle and shiver, requiring every bough, branch and trunk to stand and account themselves upon each sweep it took between the-”
“So the Dragon could summon a storm to fell any tree which wandered beyond the boundary of the forest and without it they roam free, yes, yes,” Hendrix said, waving a hand like he wanted to brush my words from the room. “I’ve heard those pretty little fairytales before, though you do realise there is no proof to them?”
“You weren’t listening properly,” I growled, my hand splaying protectively over the silvery depiction of the Dragon in my book. “It didn’t just command storms, it had a job to do which kept the magic of this forest in check. All of the spirits had a job just as important to this place and to the rest of the world too because without them doing what they should, we are all at risk of being consumed by these trees and the malevolent things which dwell within them.”
“Don’t lecture me on what the forest has taken, girl,” Hendrix sneered. “I know far better than you because I’ve lived it. I’ve watched it consume the world bite by bite and-”
“Do not presume to know more than me about what this fucking place has taken!” I yelled at him, my fingers crumpling the page of my precious book in my utter fury at his cavalier claim that his years spent living in this world somehow trumped my experience of it.
Hendrix fell silent, sitting back in his chair and staring at me for several long seconds which were filled with vitriol from my end and blatant curiosity from his.
“What has it taken fr-”
I cut off his words with a bark of my own. “I thought the point here was to find the spirits, not get to know one another? Because I can assure you I have no interest whatsoever in getting to know you nor divulging my past or my motivations to you. You are a stranger wishing to use me as bait in pursuit of the lost spirits. I am simply trying to inform you on how best to go about seeking them because I do not believe they are solely interested in eating human women.”
“I’m willing to take a chance on disagreeing with you there. Besides, you have a vested interest in dissuading me from my planned course of action and I may as well tell you now that I will not be dissuaded,” he drawled, and if the table had been smaller I might have kicked him in the shins for his hubris. He really was the most aggravating, infuriating man I’d ever met. And he wasn’t even a man.
“You truly are so bloated with your own ego that you won’t even consider what I’m saying to you?” I demanded, but he only shrugged nonchalantly.
“You cannot honestly believe that all of the spirits were only born to serve the forest? What of the Fox? What use is fire to trees? In its very nature it is their greatest threat.”
“The Fox’s job was to protect the forest from the threat of flame by consuming all it found and adding them to the length of its tail. So no, having a spirit born of fire was not a foolish choice on the forest’s behalf. It was a clever one. And you might do well to take note of cleverness whenever you come across it.”
“Is that so?” he challenged in a rough growl which was all malice. But I had the measure of him now. I was useful to him. At least until the amulets were reunited. And that meant he wouldn’t be harming me.
“You do seem to be lacking in it,” I agreed.
“Regardless of your irrelevant opinion, you may wish to eat faster. I’ve heard your kind wilt quickly without sustenance, rather like a flower in the spring – so vibrant and beautiful, but only for a few days. Then its petals tumble to the dirt and it is nothing but fodder for the worms to feast upon. Much as you humans live for so short a span that you barely get to know who you are before your time is done and your bones become ash. So come on, the sun is hastening towards its zenith, and I have a spirit to capture.”
I smoothed out the page of my book and closed its cover before returning my focus to my food.
The Fox? Yes, I would happily go with him in pursuit of that spirit. And I’d steal it out from under him while he wasn’t looking too.
