Read Hollow by Caroline Peckham Chapter 37 –
My pride over gaining the Unicorn was fast souring. The Dragon remained angry at me despite the amount of times I’d apologised, and it had also banned both the Raven and the Unicorn from assisting me while it enacted its punishment.
I had no idea how long it planned on maintaining this treatment, but I found myself walking endlessly through the trees in hunt of a place to spend the night while dusk descended all around me.
To make it worse, I was becoming more and more certain that I was being followed.
Not for the first time, I was doubting my decision to run from Hendrix. Yes, he had been an ass and yes, I was angry with him, but at least at his side I hadn’t had to fear the other Champions or whatever foul things lurked within these trees. And… in my solitude, I could admit to myself that I missed him. I missed the weight of his stare when I was reading, I missed the dark humour he produced with wry cunning. I missed the protection he offered me of course, but if I was being truly honest with myself, then I could admit that I missed the heat of his body against mine in the dead of night. I missed the low rumble of his voice when he called me lightwing or spoke my name. I even missed the way he got my blood boiling with fury, riling me up in a way no other had before. And I missed all the unspoken wants between us, the way he sometimes looked at me like he might devour me whole and the way I had begun to think I’d let him if he tried.
I expelled a rough breath, forcing the Fae from my thoughts and from my fantasies alike. He was a sin I never should have been tempted by. A lie I never should have listened to. And a want I’d spend the rest of my days denying I’d ever felt. So I would banish him from my mind and force myself to remain focused on my task.
I’d grown complacent in the favourable treatment the forest offered me and for the last few days, I’d tried to convince myself that there was nothing to fear within the depths of the cursed forest.
That had been nothing but a pretty lie. Perhaps the trees themselves weren’t intent on my demise but that didn’t mean there weren’t other things within this place that were.
And despite the Lost Children having let me pass before, I didn’t trust them to do so a second time. For Rissa’s sake, they’d allowed me safe passage once – and only while she’d been in my company. My sister was both one of them and not. She had continued to age since finding herself within the snare of the forest. She was born of the same spirit magic which had gone towards my own creation. I didn’t know what that made her, but I didn’t believe it gave her any kind of real or lasting control over this place or the beasts which ruled it.
I was also growing fearful over how long it had been since I’d seen her. I’d heard the Lost Children singing in the trees at night but never her voice. There had been nothing to suggest she’d come close to me since the return of my pack after our meeting in the dark, and I feared the reasons for her absence.
I so wanted to believe that ending this curse might be the answer to freeing her too, but I knew it wasn’t. She’d told me that her fate was bound to this place now. When she was selected as an Offering, she’d been given to the Great Elm. So she was trapped here, curse or not. I couldn’t just rely on hope.
Even claiming ownership of the three spirits wasn’t enough. I needed to be certain that I had done all I could to ensure my victory over the other Champions. So I’d set a trail in hunt of the Carp.
If the Dragon had been willing to offer me its help, then I could have traversed the trees in a matter of hours. As it was, I still had around a day’s travel ahead of me before I would reach the pond where the Carp had been rumoured to linger.
The spirit I really wanted to try and find was the Serpent. I had hopes that my sister remained with it, but I had no clues as to its location. After seeing the way it moved through the trees with Rissa, I had to think it wouldn’t be found lurking in its territory the way the others seemed to. So I’d have to rely on her being able to bring it to the Great Elm when it mattered. I didn’t like leaving any part of my plans to chance like that, but I trusted my sister and it was going to have to be enough.
I wasn’t sure, but I had the feeling Rissa had managed to lure some of the madness out of the Serpent. Had helped the spirit remember more of what it once had been and the purpose it had been created for. As that included rooting out enemies of the forest and destroying them, I had to fear what that remembrance might mean for any Champions it stumbled across.
Gloom pressed in beneath the trees. I likely still had an hour before night fell, but once the sun dipped towards the horizon, the shadows stretched out like long and grasping fingers, snatching far more of the light from this place than I would have liked.
A branch snapped somewhere behind me and I turned, my hand falling to the slingshot in my pocket.
I swallowed a lump in my throat. That wasn’t the first time I’d heard a noise in the trees behind me.
I scoured the shadows for a sign of movement and stumbled back a few steps as something shifted in the dark.
“Now would be a really great time for you to forgive me,” I muttered to the Dragon whose only response was a low scoff in the back of my skull. “If I die out here then there won’t be any way for me to save the forest.”
“Perhaps you will hold that thought in mind the next time you think to order me about like a dog, spirit singer.”
“Is that all you have to say?” I hissed as another branch broke, this time from a spot further to the left. There was more than one something trailing me through the trees.
“No.”
“Then you’ll help me?” I pleaded.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what?” I hissed.
“I was only going to make a suggestion.” The Dragon’s words coiled through my mind, faint teal light shimmering along the edges of its amulet.
“What’s that?” I took my slingshot from my pocket as fear trickled into me.
“Run.”
The Dragon’s warning was entirely unnecessary as it was punctuated by two figures stepping out of the trees, their faces gaunt, their eyes hungry and feral.
I cursed, placing a stone in my slingshot and aiming at the Hollow which was closest to me but as it broke into a run my shot went wide and I was left with no option but to launch myself into the trees and run for my life.
I tripped on roots hidden in the shadows and cried out as my fingers tore on a thorn bush.
The Hollows shrieked in delight as they took chase, more than just two sets of footsteps pounding after me in the dark.
In all the horrors and wonders of this place I had almost forgotten the Hollows. Fucking fool that I was, I hadn’t even been looking out for them.
Since I’d found the Dragon I’d seen nothing of the dead which rose at the Necromancer’s command and had put them out of my mind, hoping that the few who had ended Colton had been here by mistake, some fluke of luck meaning they’d crossed into the forest when it had opened itself for the beginning of the Great Hunt.
If I hadn’t learned anything else in this place then I should have at least known better than to give in to hope. That had been something which had been more than elusive to me for most of my life and certainly hadn’t been anything I was fool enough to depend on. I made my own destiny. Or I meant to. And the only way to achieve that was by facing all the horrors of this world head on and planning my way around them.
I’d let myself become caught up in the curse and the spirits and the amulets, and I’d admit it to myself – I’d gotten caught up in Hendrix Draven too. I’d let his strength infect me with the belief that I was safe, I’d let his words torment me and raise what could only be madness within my mind because I’d let myself linger not only in his company but in a fantasy which never could have been more than a fleeting moment of pure insanity. And where was my Fae warrior now when I needed him most? Certainly not keeping me safe. All because I’d decided running meant giving myself and Rissa a better chance at the boon. But what use was the boon to my corpse when the Hollows caught up to me and ripped me apart?
I had nowhere to run to, no safe haven awaiting me. I pleaded with the Dragon to help me but it refused, only making my fear deepen.
I called out to the forest to help instead and it opened a pathway for me between the trees. But as I ran towards it three more Hollows burst from the undergrowth ahead, forcing me to swerve aside and throw myself through a tangle of nettles and brambles which bit at every exposed patch of skin they could find.
My pack was weighing me down but I gripped the straps tightly in my fists and ran on, refusing to consider dropping it.
More and more Hollows burst from the trees, forcing me to lurch aside and change direction over and over again. Their breath was rancid on the air, their empty eyes pinned wholly on me while they raced after me on rotting limbs in dishevelled clothes.
A tear pricked the corner of my eye as I tried to turn and once more found one of the heinous creatures blocking my path. The ground began to slope upwards but every time I tried change direction and find an easier route, the Hollows swept in to block me off and force me higher up the hill.
My breaths were a ragged saw in my chest, sweat coursing down my spine where my clothes were trapped beneath my pack. My hair was tangled and sticking to my cheeks as a choked sob fell from me.
I didn’t try to aim my slingshot again, knowing only too well that it would do me no good. Even if I could fell one of the monstrous beings, there had to be fifty of them chasing me through the trees.
They were going to catch me, they would rip me apart with tooth and nail and all I had done, all I had thought to do, would come to nothing.
“Ferris!” Hendrix’s voice boomed through the dark up ahead and a spear of that one, most dangerous emotion struck me directly in the heart. Hope.
I almost wept with relief as I called his name in reply.
The rising moon was casting silvery pools of light between the trees as I raced father up the hill and I caught sight of him standing right at the top, a familiar tower at his back. Both saviour and sanctuary in one place.
Was it fate that had led me to him in my moment of greatest need or had the forest been working to aid me in my path once again? Either way, it was a stroke of luck which had me near to sobbing with relief. I’d missed him when I’d run from him. Almost enough to have made me turn back and seek him out had I known where to begin my search. I’d been so stupid to flee from him. I’d been angry and hurt and fearful of what would come at the end of this hunt if I couldn’t win more spirits for my own but I had wanted to turn back and find him again despite it all. And it seemed the forest or fate or maybe a twist of both wanted us reunited too.
I found some small measure of resolve still lurking in my limbs and pushed myself to run faster, refusing to look back. I could feel the Hollows mere inches behind me, their grasping fingers surely about to take hold of me at any moment.
Hendrix waited for me at the top of the hill and as I burst into the clearing surrounding the tower he swept past me, sword swinging, blood flying, Hollows falling.
“Enough!” he bellowed, swinging his sword as he dove at the beasts which grasped for my heels.
I scrambled further from the sounds of fighting before I got to my feet once more, my pack falling in the dirt at last while heaving breaths tore from my lungs.
I was no warrior, but Hendrix? Watching him cut through the Hollows was like watching a dance of well-practiced and beautiful steps.
He cut the Hollows down so simply I might have questioned why I’d been so filled with terror while I ran from them. But as they fought to get past him, feral, hungry gazes locked on me, I knew my death had only just passed me by.
Hendrix cut the last of them down and turned to me, blood dripping from his sword, face cast in shadow, his eyes burning with a relentless, furious power which I could feel wrapping around me like the arms of a storm.
He dropped his sword and strode for me, gripping my face between his hands and staring down at me with a ravenous devotion that set my heart racing even faster than fleeing from the Hollows had done.
Madness struck me as I stared up at him. The kind of madness which wars were fought over, which songs were sung for, which folk wept and killed for. The most dangerous type of madness in this world or any other. Because in the arms of this brute, this infuriating, maddening male, I suddenly felt as if I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Shadows mapped lines across his skin, darkness clinging to his features in a way that set my entire being on edge but I was lost in the fact that he was here, that he had found me, and that I never should have run from him at all.
I took hold of his wrists where he clung to me and I pressed up onto my toes as I captured his mouth with my own.
Hendrix stilled for all of a heartbeat as a pulse of raw energy raged between us and then he dragged me closer, his mouth captivating mine, his tongue sinking between my lips and my body melting into his.
I’d been kissed before. Kisses were something and nothing at all. But not this kiss. This kiss was like a breath of frozen air on a balmy summer’s night, stealing all of my attention and devouring me whole.
Hendrix didn’t kiss me like any man had ever kissed me. He possessed me with that kiss, destroyed me and consumed me and worshipped me.
I was lost in him, all the things I’d been trying to deny about the way he made me feel and the things he made me want just spilling away to nothing as he kissed me like I was all he’d ever wanted in this life or any other.
A stillness fell over the world as I lost myself in his kiss, the taste of him awakening every piece of my soul as I fell for the trap I’d been fighting to avoid since the moment I’d first laid eyes on him.
But the stillness wasn’t just that of this connection. It was the entire world falling silent like in the moment before a predator might leap from the trees.
My eyes fluttered open, my gaze meeting the wild tempest in Hendrix’s, the green I’d come to grow so familiar with seeming so much darker in the moonlight.
Black shadows crept from his eyes, painting lines across his skin, dark magic leaking from him and making me step back suddenly, a spell shattering as if a bucket of cold water had been hurled over us.
Fear captured my heart before I even realised why.
In the trees surrounding us, beyond the corpses of the Hollows Hendrix had cut down, figures stood like statues, their hungry eyes consuming me. There must have been at least thirty of them stood frozen, their desperate wants held at bay by some power I was only just starting to realise was resonating from the Fae before me.
“You,” I breathed, stepping back but he didn’t relinquish his hold on me, his voice a low growl as he replied.
“Do you see the truth of me at last, lightwing? Do you understand the horrors I warned you about now?”
My heart was a bird thrashing against the bars of a cage which was coiling tighter and tighter around it. I could see the shadows on his skin all the clearer now, see them for the darkness they were, feel the wretched weight of their poisonous magic as it clawed its way through his veins. The bony hands of death which were painted around his throat seemed to be gripping him more tightly, those tattoos flexing as if they were made of so much more than ink. A collar for a beast worse than any other.
In the spaces between the trees Hollows stared at us with feral hunger in their eyes, their lust for life and death kept in check, their bodies taut with tension, their wants suppressed by their master.
Their master who stood before me, whose kiss still stained my lips, whose truth had been right there for me to see long before this moment but which I had so determinedly fought against admitting to. Because allowing myself to see it meant admitting to myself that the male I’d been captivated by since the moment we first met, the one I’d desired and dreamed of, had ached for and pined for against my better judgement, had been a monster all along. The monster who had haunted my nightmares in every quiet moment, the one they all whispered of in the dark.
His name wasn’t Hendrix Draven. It was one which was renowned and feared across the realms of human and Fae alike.
“You’re Bane Crownthief,” I exhaled, terror holding me captive as thoroughly as his hold on me did. “The prince who was cursed for stealing a crown he wasn’t worthy of. The Fae whose twisted magic allowed him to raise the dead. You’re the Necromancer.”
