by Lola Gabriel
“Oh, God,” Cassia gasped.
“Well, Mr. Owen was ready to crisp them good, but Mr. Wilder stopped him and instead told the trolls that he would find a way to save the Hollows…” Gus paused for a moment. “By bringing them their savior. He said that if he didn’t, he would die with them in the Hollows, and they would all live in the palace until that happened.”
“Is he out of his goddamned mind?” Cassia roared, her face red. “He can’t honor that! He has a child to think about!”
The males looked at one another, taken aback by her profanity, but Cassia was far too distracted to notice. “Cassia, you’re bringing the solution. He’s not going to die.”
“Oh, you dumbasses,” she moaned, shaking her head. “You’re walking me into a death trap. All of us!” She began to sob, burying her face in her hands as the insanity of the situation fell upon her. Either we’re all going to die in the Hollows together, or they are going to kill my baby on the Sunside for not being “the savior.” Not to mention what they’ll do to Wilder if he backs out on his word.
Her tears eventually slowed, but Cassia couldn’t bring herself to look at any of the men until the van stopped.
“We’re here?” she asked anxiously. “Let me out.”
They helped her from the vehicle, and she waited impatiently for Gus to open the portal. This one was in a dumpster floor, but Cassia didn’t notice the stench. She jumped inside, her heart hammering as she crouched down to enter. Before she could, Gus reappeared, his already waxed face nearing opaque.
“What?” she demanded. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head gravely, and Cassia felt bile rushing up through her.
“It’s sealed,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.”
“No!” she choked. “It can’t be!” Gus hung his head sadly and bit on his blood red lower lip. “We have to find another portal!” Cassia screamed. “There has to be another one!”
“There isn’t, Cassia. This was the last one anywhere on earth. We’ve been looking for months. That’s it. The Hollows is gone to us now.”
18
“You suck at poker,” Mirabelle snapped irritably. “You suck at everything!” She flipped the table, as she always did when she lost a hand, and Wilder gave her a chastising look.
“You’re becoming predictable,” he warned. “No one likes an opponent who anyone can see coming.”
“You’re an asshole!” the troll screamed back, her hideous face contorting with fury. “I hate you, and I hate the palace! I’m going to die on the Sunside!”
“See?” Wilder told her. “Predictable.” She said the same thing after every hand, and yet she remained to bitch and complain, just like the other trolls.
Wally snickered. “I can’t believe we trusted you would save our home.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Wally, I’m down here with the rest of you. I can just as easily take the last access out of here and let you ungrateful brats rot on your own, but I remain hopeful that Cassia will bring the baby to me.”
“I think you’re full of shit!” one of the chimeras roared. “You’re probably going to do just that when you get word from one of your spies—”
“Would you all stop yelling?” Alice snapped. “I just put the kids down for a nap.”
The beings instantly lowered their voices, but the stress in Wilder’s shoulders didn’t diminish.
“Wilder…” He turned as Dr. Fritz entered the salon, his face contorted in a perpetual state of worry. “Can I have a word with you?”
Wilder nodded, rising. He was on a first-name basis with everyone in the palace, now that their future was despairingly bleak. There was no need for formalities when they were all going to die within a month, was there?
“What’s up?” he asked Fritz when they moved into the foyer. “Let me guess, no change, no luck.”
“It’s worse than that,” Fritz told him, his jaw locking. “There’s no escape. The last portal has been sucked in by the wall.”
Wilder had been expecting the news, but he had hoped for a little bit more time. In his mind’s eye, he had envisioned Cassia appearing at the last possible minute, her face radiant with signs of her pregnancy, her arms outstretched to him.
She’d say something cheesy like, “Don’t worry everyone, I’m here now. You’re rescued!”
Of course, the air had grown much thinner since the Hollows had depleted, so he knew it was partial delirium which had affected his visions.
“Wilder?”
“I heard you, Fritz.”
“What are we going to do now?” Fritz demanded. “We’re all going to die here!”
Wilder considered him with a speculative look. It never really occurred to him until right now, he realized. Maybe he thought he was going to escape at the last minute, too. He idly wondered why Fritz had waited so long to leave.
“I’ll tell the others,” Wilder said stiffly. “You might want to start drinking. I fear that’s going to be the most painless way to pass the time going forward.”
“Wilder…”
He raised a hand to stop Fritz from speaking, a bubble of bile rising in his gut.
Maybe I always knew this day was coming, Wilder thought. Maybe I knew in my heart that even if Cassia showed up again, she’s not really carrying the savior. At least she didn’t get sucked into all this. This is for the best.
He could spin it any way he wanted, but it didn’t take away the insurmountable pain in knowing he would never hold his child in his arms, never run his fingertips along the lines of Cassia’s lovely face again.
I didn’t tell her enough how I felt about her, how she makes me feel. That’s why she stayed away. She wasn’t sure. I was too standoffish.
His mind traveled to his brothers, who had come with regular frequency to check on his well-being. It was good that none of them had been down in the Hollows when the last portal was sealed. Wilder would have gone to the grave feeling even guiltier than he already did.
“Wilder?” One of the trolls stared up at him curiously. “Is something wrong?”
“Uh, yeah,” he answered with a short, mirthless laugh. “Something’s wrong.” A hush fell over the salon, and all eyes turned to look at him. “The last portal is gone. There is no way to access the Hollows or to get out of them.”
Even though silence followed his announcement, Wilder didn’t need them to speak to see the grief in their faces.
“Our babies,” Alice whispered. “Our babies are going to die.”
Wilder clenched his jaw, the swell of emotion in him overwhelming and foreign. “I want you all to be as comfortable as you can in our final days, but they are our final days. No one is coming to save us. There’s no way in or out.”
He wanted to make sure their fate was blindingly clear. “There is no savior. There never was.”
Their sadness turned to anger, and a slew of loud voices reached his ears.
“You’re a damned liar! I always knew you were!”
“Power hungry…”
“Selfish…”
“Coward…”
The voices followed him as he turned away and moved up the steps toward his suite. In an odd way, he almost felt relieved. His whole life, he’d known nothing but the burden of leadership, and suddenly, there was nothing left to lead.
Now I can go to my room, close my eyes and fall into every fleeting memory I have of Cassia. That’s where I will die.
For three days and nights, Wilder remained in a near coma, rising only to pour himself another drink. He didn’t eat, and if he slept, it was no different than being awake. There was a haze enshrouding his mind, his thoughts emblazoned with alcohol and painful memories.
And there were memories—scores of them. But none as vivid nor beautiful as the ones he had shared with the headstrong, ball-busting Cassia.
Our baby will be like her. I can picture him. He saw the same intelligent green eyes and jet-black hair. He could almost hear the wail of the child if he listened
closely enough. Protect him from the nuts who think he’s either cursed or holy, he told Cassia silently, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him.
On the third night, Wilder’s alcohol supply in his private liquor cabinet had been depleted, and he was forced to leave the sanctuary of his rooms. Certain he would be faced with animus trolls and the like, Wilder stole down the servant’s stairs into the pantry. He grabbed three bottles of scotch and was about the leave when he heard a noise below his feet. Spreading his legs apart, he noticed that the light was on in the cellar.
Only one person that could be, he thought dryly as he leaned down to pull the latch upward. Light flooded the pantry, and Wilder stumbled down the steps.
“Wilder!” Fritz cried. He was at his computer, glancing away from it only to greet him. “You scared me.”
“Hey. Want a drink?” Wilder slurred, holding up the bottles.
“No,” Fritz answered without looking up from his computer. “Thanks.”
“Aren’t you going to yell at me like the others?” Wilder asked, sliding closer. He suddenly realized how much he reeked after three days of self-pity. Not that I have anyone to impress.
“Yell at you?” Fritz asked, his brow furrowing. “Why would I do that?”
“Well, it’s sort of my fault you’re here, isn’t it? If I hadn’t asked you to find a solution to an impossible task—”
“I’m a scientist, Wilder. That’s my job. It’s not like you held a gun to my head and forced me.”
“Maybe not literally…”
“Not even figuratively. You may think you are, but you’re not the same dragon who burst in here all those eons ago, hellbent on destruction.”
“No?” Fritz smiled tightly. “Am I disturbing you?”
“I’m just reading up on something I hadn’t thought of before.”
“Ah. There’s a smart man,” Wilder laughed drunkenly. “Still trying to learn, right until the very end. Sure you don’t want a drink, Fritzy? It’s the good stuff. I hid it so the trolls didn’t steal it all.”
“I’m sure.”
“Suit yourself.” Wilder spun, off-balance, and wandered back toward the steps.
“Wilder?” Fritz called after him.
“Changed your mind about that drink?” Wilder asked hopefully, but Fritz shook his head.
“No, but… will you do me a favor?”
“Aw, hell, sure. I probably owe you one, don’t I?” He leered the scientist. “What’ll be?”
“Can you go have a shower?”
Wilder howled with laughter. “Is that your last wish? That I have a shower?”
“Will you?”
Wilder gave him a fake salute and nodded. “Aye aye, Captain! I will do it now before the walls take the showers, too. I hope my bones smell like vanilla when they find it.”
He stumbled back up the stairs and into his suite, uncorking the scotch as he moved. He took two swigs of the drink and fell face first onto the bed, his promise to Fritz forgotten.
Someone was pounding Wilder on the head, and he tried to shift, warning off the assault. But when he tried to, he realized he couldn’t move.
I’m immobilized! he thought with some panic, thrashing about. As his gritty eyes opened, he noticed that no one was hitting him. His head was pounding from the amount of alcohol he’d consumed the previous night, and the incessant rapping on the door wasn’t helping his cause in the least.
“Who the hell is it?”
The door opened, and Wally walked in, his eyes shining.
“Mr. Parker,” he mumbled, his green-tinged face bright and happy. “I think you should come and see something.”
“We’re back to ‘Mr. Parker,’ are we?” Wally was already gone, but he left the door wide open, and Wilder became aware of a flurry of activity in the hall. “What is going on?” he groaned. His voice was like sandpaper.
He managed to rise from the bed and stumble toward the door, following his new housemates down the stairs. The front doors were wide open, and there was a crowd gathered, muttering in excitement.
“What are you lunatics doing? Is it over? Is the wall here now?”
“No!” Mirabelle cried gleefully. “The walls are expanding again.”
“What?” Wilder pushed the others aside and stumbled toward the front, his eyes wide in shock as he realized that what she was saying was true. “How the hell did this happen?” he choked, looking about. “Did anyone see when this started?”
“It was only slightly closer this morning,” Wally whispered, like he was afraid the walls would hear him and change their minds.
“Where the hell is Fritz?” Wilder looked around until his gaze rested on the scientist, who looked exhausted against the railing. “Did you do this?” Wilder demanded, his hangover forgotten in his elation. “No, wait, HOW did you do this?”
Fritz chuckled quietly. “I had a working theory that the walls were closing in because of a build-up of pressure. They were being drawn together like a vacuum. What’s the best way to scramble a vacuum?”
Wilder’s eyes widened. “With a hole! You drilled into the walls?”
“All night. I still have more to do, but I’m taking a break.”
Wilder swept the scientist into his arms and danced him around the foyer, squealing. “Never mind, Fritzy! Your drilling days are done! Going forward, you will be the richest seismologist in either realm!”
“Wilder!” Fritz grimaced. “Please, put me down!”
“Am I hurting you?” Wilder dropped him instantly.
“No,” Fritz replied, wrinkling his nose. “You stink. I thought you promised to take a shower.” Wilder whooped and hugged him again
“I’m going right now,” he swore. “The next hug you get from me will reek of cucumber mint.”
19
“Cassia, this is ridiculous!” Lennox snapped. “You can’t stay here.”
Cassia turned her head away from him and fixated on the dumpster, willing Wilder to emerge from its depths.
“Owen!” Lennox growled, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I can’t deal with this anymore.”
“Cassia,” Owen said reasonably, his hazel eyes reflecting annoyance but kindness simultaneously. “You’ve been here for four days. You’re attracting attention to yourself—”
“Do you think I give a shit?” Cassia snarled. “I’m not going anywhere until you find a way back to the Hollows!” In fact, she had lived out of the very van which had brought her to the portal, sleeping on the metal floor, eating gas station snacks, and silently praying to any god who would listen for them to bring Wilder back to her. He’s there. I can feel him.
“You’re not doing anyone any good by sitting here. Do you think, if Wilder gets out, he won’t send word for us directly? You can come to my place—”
“I’m not going anywhere!” she declared stubbornly. “He has to know I didn’t abandon him when he needed me!”
“Cassia,” Owen sighed, glancing around. “It’s not safe for you here. Do you see this crowd gathering?”
They were hard to miss, the mob getting slightly larger every time she bothered to look.
“What about them?”
“They’re here for your baby.”
The words filled her with fear. “What?”
“You remember your baby, right? The one in your belly? The one living off pringles and ginger ale right now?”
Shame washed over Cassia, and she looked at Owen with haunted green eyes. “Why didn’t I come back sooner? I thought… I thought I was in danger. I thought our baby was…”
“I understand,” Owen told her gently. “But you need to listen to me. You and your baby are in real danger now. If it weren’t for Lennox and I standing guard as you act out this bizarre vigil by a garbage can, they would have pounced.”
“But why?” Cassia moaned. “I don’t understand any of this!”
“I’ll explain everything to you,” Owen assured her. “But you have to come with me. It’s what W
ilder would have wanted—for you and your child to be safe.”
“I can’t leave him, Owen!” she wailed, tear flooding her vision. “I should have never left…”
“Please. Think of your baby. These people expected you to save the Hollows. Now that they realize you’re not carrying the child they thought…”
A glimmer of clarity flashed through Cassia, and she nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, hanging her head, mortified. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“It’s understandable,” Owen assured her, taking her arm. “I’ve got you. You don’t need to worry.” They turned away from where they were standing, and Owen led her toward a waiting black limo. “Thank you, Castor. Castor, this is Miss St. John. She’s carrying Wilder’s child.”
The Lycan driver smiled at her warmly. “I have heard so much about you, miss. I look forward to serving you.”
Cassia couldn’t manage a smile, but she did nod her head.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She slid inside the overstuffed seats of the limo, the softness sucking her in instantly, and the baby kicked with approval. “I’m sorry, little one,” she mumbled. “I didn’t forget about you, I promise.”
Owen slipped inside after her, and Castor closed the door. “Just rest, Cassia. We’ll be home soon.”
Home, Cassia thought bitterly. Every home I’ve ever had has been snatched away from me. How long will this one last? She knew there was no home without Wilder.
“To my Rochester house, Castor,” Owen instructed.
“Of cour—” Castor stopped speaking.
“What’s wrong?” Owen asked with alarm, and Cassia’s head jerked up. The driver’s eyes were trained on the dumpster, and suddenly, a wave of people moved toward it.
“Someone just came out of the access!” Castor called excitedly. “The portal’s open!”
Cassia almost fell out of the car, pushing through the crowd to get a better look. The din was unbearable.
“Who is it?” someone asked.