“It wasn’t what the Oak wanted, of course. She was just trying to root herself—trying to build a home for all. I doubt Prudence had any true understanding, but she saw the way things were going, nonetheless. She convinced the people of Strange Hollow that the Holly Oak would continue to fight for the wood and its creatures … for its place in the larger world. It didn’t take much to convince them that it was a fight that humans couldn’t hope to win.”
Poppy thought suddenly of the strange little book Nula had taken, and the rhyme the inklings had remembered for them. “Tooth for tooth,” she recalled. “Blood or bone.”
The woman squinted. “You’ve heard it, then.”
In a flash, Poppy remembered one of the images in the book. The tree and the woman, with all the people of the Hollows and the creatures of the wood stretched out behind them. “The promise of Prudence Barebone,” she breathed, covering her surprise by poking her head out from behind the rocks to look at Nula. She and Mack were still talking with Jute, but Mack narrowed his eyes at her, like he was sure she was up to something.
She ducked back behind the rock.
What was the little book Nula had taken from the Holly Oak? “So … what did Prudence do?” she asked the witch.
“Well, she did what anyone does in this cursed wood when they’re in trouble. She bound herself in a different way—a way she could choose, and she took something for herself in the bargain.”
Bells went off in Poppy’s head. “She made a promise.”
The old woman’s eyes lit. “Prudence made a promise.”
Poppy wasn’t sure whether it was the light in the woman’s eyes, or the ringing of her words, but for a moment it made Poppy’s hair stand on end. “What promise?”
The woman cackled. “A promise for the ages. A promise for all time. For all of us.”
“With the Holly Oak?”
“With the Holly Oak.” The woman gazed meaningfully at the apple slices in Poppy’s hand and Poppy handed her some more.
The old woman went on, chewing. “Prudence was afraid, you see. She didn’t want to grow old and die.” She breathed a long sigh. “So, she bargained extra years—for everyone. She wasn’t selfish, only greedy. She asked for reasonable safety—a ban on any creature entering the Hollows who meant humans harm. The Oak couldn’t grant immortality, so Prudence asked for long and healthy lives, more than double a human life-span. Bountiful harvests. No snow.”
A sour taste crawled up the back of Poppy’s throat. “But can the Holly Oak give us all that? I mean, how? What … what did Prudence promise in return?”
The woman shot her a sharp look. “Clever girl. All magic has a price, and what Prudence asked for was costly. She promised peace, I suppose you could say. She promised the humans wouldn’t harm the wood, and that they would stay, bound to the magic of the wood and the fog, protectors should the fog ever fail.” She bit off another piece of apple. “Then they all signed it. Every last one.”
Poppy shivered. The witch hadn’t actually named the price Prudence had paid, but before she could push her for more answers, the old woman leaned in. Her breath smelled like something had crawled in her mouth and died. “Then Prudence made a mistake.”
Poppy tried not to gag. This was important. She could feel it.
The woman began to back away. “She swore the Oak to secrecy. Now, only the rhyme remains … and these days you all have even forgotten that.”
The last time they were here, the Holly Oak had been trying to tell them something … something she wasn’t able to say. A geis, Mack had called it.
Poppy looked up. The woman was fading from view, her form shifting into mist. “Wait!” Poppy cried.
The woman’s glittering eyes were the last to go. A whisper echoed in Poppy’s ear. “Don’t forget,” it said.
“What’s all the shouting about?” Mack’s voice called.
Poppy spun around. The rocks that had blocked her and the old woman from view were gone. The shore was flat and clear. Everyone was staring at her.
Her scalp prickled. “Jute? Did any of you see where that old woman went? Or … or the rocks?”
Mack pulled a face. “What woman? What rocks?”
Jute shook his head. “No one’s here but us, my dear.”
“I was just talking to her! She was old, and she had—”
“No, you weren’t,” Nula scoffed. “You’ve been over there muttering to yourself for the last fifteen minutes.” She rolled her eyes. “I just thought you were in a mood.”
“No. I’m not in a mood. I was talking to someone. Right here! Behind some rocks! An old woman.”
Mack and Jute both looked concerned, but Nula came closer and pulled at Poppy’s arms, looking her up and down, then spun her around and did the same on the other side.
“What are you doing?”
“She didn’t bite you, did she?”
“No, she didn’t bite me!”
Nula narrowed her eyes at Poppy as though she didn’t quite believe her. “But you did say it was an old woman?”
Poppy nodded.
“Well, I guess you’re lucky, then.”
“Whyyyy?”
Nula rubbed her shoulder. “Even good witches can bite.”
Poppy gaped. “How did you know?”
Nula swatted Poppy with her tail. “I told you. You have to watch out for old women in the wood. They’re never just grannies. What did she want?”
Poppy looked at Mack and Jute. “She wanted to tell me a story.”
Mack and Jute exchanged a look. Jute shook his head. “There’s no time for stories, Poppy.” He pulled her into a hug. “Mack told me what’s happened. You have to get that magic bottle back to the Faery Queen.” He held Poppy away, then dug one hand into his pocket. “Hold out your hand.”
He dropped a handful of gold coins into her palm.
Nula groaned.
Jute closed Poppy’s fingers around the coins. “There’s no time to waste. The Holly Oak sent for me. I’ll go to her, and you can explain everything later—once you’ve fulfilled your bargain.”
“But—”
“Just hurry,” he said, brushing his fingers over her cheek. “I love you too.” His hand dropped to his side and he met each of their eyes, before turning away. “Now,” he said. “Run.”
* * *
They raced along the shore as Poppy’s thoughts flew to the Boatman, and then to the kelpies. Just the thought of the Boatman made sweat break out across her skin, but there was nothing—not even a bargain with the Faery Queen—that would make her get back in the Alcyon sea and swim.
She led the way, moving as fast as she could. She had no idea how much time was left, but she knew it wasn’t much. She tried to tally the time it had taken to reach the Valkyrie—to fly across the sea to the far cliffs. How long had they been in the water? How many hours had passed since dawn?
How many more would it take to reach the Faery Queen again?
Limbs heavy with exhaustion, they ran for the dilapidated dock, stumbling over cobbles and roots around the uneven shoreline. Mack was on her heels, with Nula and Dog pushing them forward. When the dock came into view, she put on a burst of speed, reaching into her pocket to close her fist around the small blue bottle.
Would the Faery Queen have the information she needed? Would it be enough? And how did the promise of Prudence Barebone weave into this mess? It did—she was sure of it. That promise had something to do, not just with the Soul Jar, but with all the maledictions. Which meant it involved her parents.
If she could just figure it out, maybe she could help all of them—in the wood and out. One thing was for sure. As soon as she got out of this mess with the faeries, she would sit down with Mack and Nula, tell them what the witch had told her, and take another good look at that book.
Nula was clanging the bell at the end of the dock like her life depended on it. Poppy had never seen the pooka so agitated. Maybe because she always turns into something else and runs away
when she’s upset. One day, Nula would have to choose her alternate form, as all pookas did—the form she would spend at least half her adult life in. Poppy wondered what her friend would choose. She hoped she would be around to see it.
The Boatman rose, silent and threatening as ever. Almost gleeful, he held out his hand. Perhaps he thought she wouldn’t have the coins to pay.
She wasn’t sorry to disappoint him.
They suffered through the ride, though this time he took the easy, paid-full-price part of the river. As easy as it ever got anyway, and as soon as they stumbled out, they ran again, racing through the wood—walking only long enough to catch their breath, before they ran again. Poppy searched the wood for the Rowan Gate that marked the entry to the Faery Queen’s territory. She could almost feel the passage of time now. It ticked through her entire body, kicking her pulse off its normal rhythm like a downbeat drum.
How much longer? An hour … less? A few minutes?
Please let us get there in time, Poppy begged the Grimwood. Please let her be forgiving if we’re late. Let her be so impressed with the Valkyries’ song that she tells us everything she knows. Let my parents be safe. The Faery Queen will know where the Soul Jar is … and once we have it, we’ll free my parents. She’ll tell us where it is. We’ll get there in time. She’ll tell us where it is. We’ll get there in time.
Poppy’s thoughts flew ahead of her with wings that were soft and full of promises.
The queen was waiting at the gate—the very picture of a peaceful welcoming, with white flowers in her straight black hair. She was flanked on either side by her guards, still as stone in the shadows of the great Rowan arch.
The queen peered into the wood, and in her palm sat a huge hourglass filled with sand. Poppy could see, even from a distance, that only the tiniest bit of sand remained.
As they ran, time seemed to slow. Poppy couldn’t look away from the Faery Queen’s dark eyes. Poppy’s heart rose into her throat as they closed in, sinking again as she saw the last few grains of sand fall. A bell tolled, shaking the trees.
“No!” Poppy shouted.
The queen’s expression grew smug and satisfied, and she clapped her hands like a child as they skidded to a stop at her feet. “You’re late,” she said, her smile widening. “You’re too late.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Faery Queen grinned at them—a flower, overripe and oversweet. “You see,” she explained. “I knew you couldn’t do it. I knew that I would get my wish.”
“But we did do it,” Poppy exclaimed at the same time that Mack cried, “A few seconds! That’s all—just seconds.”
“As if that matters to me,” the queen said, turning to Mack. “You’re like all the rest of your kind, aren’t you? So concerned with doing right,” her voice turned mocking. “Well! See where it gets you? Nowhere!”
Mack crossed his arms. “It keeps our hearts clean. Unlike yours.”
“Pish. What do I want with a clean heart? A heart is there to be used—like any other thing in the world. Useful, until it’s used up.” She stepped forward from the line of her guards.
Poppy’s hands had grown cold. She let one fall to Eta’s head, drawing Dog close for comfort. She had lost. What would the queen take? Would she make Poppy become a servant in the faery court? Poppy gritted her teeth. If she did, Mack would help get word to the Holly Oak—she was sure of it. Dog leaned into her, muscles quivering.
There were more faery guards now. And where were those giant spiders with their creepy handmaidens spinning out their spider silk?
The queen strolled around Mack, one pointed finger trailing over his back as she passed. He shivered. “Let me tell you something for free, young man. Keeping your heart clean will not help you. Following the rules will not help you. If you want to win, you need to—”
Mack shook his head. “Cheat? Steal? Turn away from what’s right?”
“Milksop! No. If you want to win, you must learn to leverage.”
Poppy scoffed. “What does that even mean?”
The queen’s expression darkened, the shadows under her eyes deepening as she shifted her attention to Poppy. Her voice grew deeper. “It means using what you know to gain an advantage.”
“It means cheating.” At his sides, Mack’s hands fisted, every muscle in his body tight.
“Does it?”
Mack looked nothing like himself as he fought to contain his anger. And where was Nula? Poppy looked behind them and spotted her. The pooka had backed up, and was standing a few feet away. It was this, more than anything, that made Poppy’s heart begin to race. Nula was shaking so hard, Poppy could see it from a distance, but the pooka didn’t change forms, and she didn’t run. Her expression was fierce and … defiant? Did Nula know something?
She knew something.
Poppy tried to catch her eyes, but the pooka wouldn’t look away from the faeries.
The queen had made her way back around to face Mack. “The Fae never cheat,” she said tightly, raising her dark eyes to meet Mack’s steady copper gaze. “The Fae watch a thing until we understand it, and then we find the cracks and the loops and the holes, and we slip through and cut your throat before you know we’re there.”
Poppy looked up. The trees were filled with Fae in dark glittering armor. As she watched, the giant spiders emerged, moving forward out of the trees to stand behind the queen. The spiders’ handmaidens, their dark hair pulled tight, rode their backs—and they were armed with blowguns.
She reached for Mack’s arm and gave it a shake, but he wouldn’t look at her.
“Now.” The queen whipped around to Poppy. “About that bargain.” She held out her hand and an enormous meaty bone appeared, hanging in the air over her palm. Dog moved away from Poppy’s side, the bone taking Brutus’s full attention.
Her stomach dropped. “Dog,” she hissed. “Come!”
But Dog’s full attention was on the bone. Two whined.
“I believe we stipulated that if I didn’t get my song in time, I could take something else.” Her eyes narrowed. “Something of my choosing.”
Poppy felt the blood drain from her face. The queen’s tight smile grew in response.
“No!” Mack said. “You can’t!”
Her smile widened. “Can’t I?” She turned to look at Dog, and shifted the bone in the air, watching as Brutus’s eyes followed it.
Eta looked back at Poppy and whimpered.
Poppy couldn’t speak. She almost couldn’t see. She turned to Mack, but his expression reflected hers.
“No,” he said softly and reached down to try to hold Dog back.
“None of that,” the queen growled and flicked her hand at him. Mack froze.
“Mack!” Poppy cried as the queen stretched the bone up above her head. “Good Dog,” she purred, and flung the bone through the Rowan Gate into the wood behind her. It vanished into the distance, and with a bark of joy, Brutus followed, taking Eta and Two with him.
“NO!” Poppy wailed, running forward to chase them, as whatever held Mack back gave way and he toppled forward into the dirt.
“Eta! Two! Brutus!” Poppy sobbed, unable to hold back her tears.
The queen knocked Poppy’s feet out from under her and she landed flat on her back, all the air knocked from her lungs. “Now,” the queen said, looking down at her. “Where is my song?”
Nula appeared at Poppy’s side and helped her up. “That wasn’t the bargain,” she snapped, leaning close. “The words were clear. The song or something else. The song OR something else.” She let go of Poppy’s arm and moved back behind Mack.
A wave of gratitude washed over Poppy. It wasn’t enough to dull the pain of Dog’s loss—not even close, but she had never been more grateful to have Nula’s friendship.
Her spine hardened as she turned to the queen. “No.” She lifted her tearstained face. “We agreed. I would bring you the song in exchange for the information I need, and if I failed, you would take something else instead. You t
ook something else. You don’t get anything more.” She widened her stance, and Mack moved to her side.
“You’ve been paid.” Poppy crossed her arms as though they could hold back her heartache. Each moment her heart beat on without Dog at her side was like being stabbed. She wanted to drop to the ground and sob. “Now, keep your promise.”
“Damnation,” the queen spat, spinning to glare at Nula. Her smile was back in an instant. “Very well. Why not. You were promised information. Now you will have it.”
All the strength vanished from Nula’s face. “No,” she begged.
“About the Soul Jar,” Poppy insisted. “And about my parents.”
“Yes, yes. Very well.” The queen waved her hand in the air. “As you wish, my dear. And let this be a lesson to you.”
“What lesson?” Mack ground out.
“To be careful what you ask for, of course,” said the queen. She began to pace, circling the three of them like a bird of prey that’s spotted its next meal and is only waiting for the right moment to drop out of the sky.
“The Grimwood belongs to the Holly Oak. Everyone is here by-her-leave. Every tree of the wood is connected to her, including the thorn trees. And that means everything belonging to the thorn trees is connected to her. That includes the Soul Jar and—”
Poppy’s jaw dropped. “The Holly Oak makes the maledictions?”
“As for your parents, I can tell you only one thing for certain—they are not in the Soul Jar.”
Poppy rocked back. “They have to be. If they’re not in the Soul Jar … then…” Poppy’s teeth caught the inside of her cheek. She tasted blood.
The queen’s expression turned sly. “If I were a betting person, Poppy Sunshine,” she hissed. “If I were you, I would look to your own people. They’re the real monsters, you know.”
Poppy’s thoughts faltered as she tried to make sense of the Faery Queen’s words. “You … you think my parents were taken … by people?”
The Edge of Strange Hollow Page 17