The Edge of Strange Hollow

by Gabrielle K. Byrne

  The sense of comfort was fleeting—gone as soon as they passed by the pavilions, which were quiet and empty. Poppy wondered if the creatures of the wood sensed something ominous in the air the way she did—a heavy foreboding that shifted like fog. Maybe the folk were all just busy with other things, but maybe they were hunkered down in their dens and nests and villages, waiting for the feeling to pass. She wondered where Jute was, and if he was okay.

  Even without running, Poppy was out of breath by the time they reached the double doors to the Holly Oak’s chamber. She knocked, and as they waited for the doors to open, Poppy took a moment to really look around. Huge lanterns hung to either side of the doors and cast a warm glow over the wide platform, which wrapped around most of the tree. Twisted limbs grew up into a thick banister along the edge. From there, Poppy could see out over the dark shapes of the whole forest. It stretched for miles in every direction—a sea of dark treetops. Pools of shadow marked the thorn groves.

  She could just make out the line of the Grimwood to the north where it broke against the edge of Strange Hollow like a wave, and to the east where it met Dark Hollow, and west to Golden Hollow. To the south, where Trader’s Hollow marked the only passage through the fog, she could only see the dark rustling of the trees. Here and there, moonlight danced like sparks on the Veena river as it wound its way through the wood. There was no telling where it started, but it ended at the Alcyon. Beyond it all—past the edges of the Grimwood and past the Hollows, the fog rose, glowing softly, blocking her view of everything beyond except the sky.

  A shiver ran down her back as she recalled what the Holly Oak had said about the fog—that it was a being with a will of its own. It protected the magic of the Grimwood from the outside world, holding the wood and the Hollows together, for better or for worse.

  The double doors were closed this time—and interesting. She hadn’t noticed—the images carved into the warm wood of each of the panels. One panel was carved with the likeness of the Holly Oak leaning from her trunk. In front of her on the second panel, stood a small, thin woman. They reached out to each other as if they were about to shake hands, but the woman had a knife in her other hand. All manner of creatures stood around the Holly Oak, and behind the woman, a gathering of people.

  “Ready?” Mack asked.

  Poppy gave a stiff nod, but continued to stand still in front of the doors. The image looked familiar.

  “Poppy?”

  With a jolt she realized it was the same picture in the book Nula had taken. It was a picture of the promise of Prudence Barebone. A shiver ran down her back as she raised a fist to knock again, but this time, before her hand could connect, the doors swung open on their own.

  The Holly Oak was waiting—and she didn’t look happy. She leaned from the tree at the end of the long chamber, her brown fingers gripping the bark as though she would pull herself out of the trunk altogether.

  Poppy was glad Mack and Nula were at her back. They made her brave.

  The Holly Oak made a rustling sound. “Where is my book?”

  Poppy’s heart shot into her throat.

  “Book?” Nula squeaked.

  “My book—the one I gave you. I know you opened it. I know you read it.”

  Nula laughed a triumphant “Ha!” She turned to Poppy. “See! I told you! I told you the book glittered at me! The Holly Oak wanted me to take it!”

  “What?” Mack said, looking from Poppy to Nula and back again. “You—she took that? You took that … from the Holly Oak?!”

  Nula looked smug. “No. She gave it to me.”

  Despite herself, Poppy couldn’t help asking the first question that popped into her head. “How did you know we read it?”

  “I know … because I can speak of it.”

  “The geis is lifted,” Mack muttered under his breath. “She couldn’t tell us about it, but now that we figured it out ourselves…”

  “She can,” Poppy finished. “So, she really did want Nula to take that book. Oh, that’s clever.”

  “Promises,” intoned the tree in words that rang against the soft walls of the chamber. “Promises are made of stone.”

  Poppy nudged Mack. “I didn’t get a chance to tell either of you—what with Dog, and the spiders and everything—I, uh … Remember that conversation I had with the witch?”

  Nula shook her head. “You mean the old lady you imagined after we almost got eaten by kelpies? That witch?”

  Poppy narrowed her eyes at Nula, but nodded. “I didn’t imagine it … but yeah, her.”

  “The Grimwood has way too many witches if you ask me.” Mack grimaced. “They’re unpredictable—slippery as eels in butter.”

  Poppy hurried on. “Well … she told me a story.”

  Mack had stiffened at her side. “What story?”

  Poppy’s eyes returned to the Oak. She was swaying a little, almost like she was dancing … or in pain.

  “Let me see that book, Nula.”

  The Oak rustled, but her stern expression didn’t change as Nula fished the strange little book out of her pocket, and handed it over.

  The inklings were beginning to dissipate back into their blobs, but they still had enough form for Poppy to see some of it without cutting her finger again. She turned to the page with the image of the Oak surrounded by clasped hands. She ran her fingers over the page. “The witch said the thorn trees were the Holly Oak’s too. I just … I didn’t make the connection.” She turned to Mack.

  The Holly Oak pressed her lips together. “All the trees are mine. I told you this.”

  “What connection?” Mack asked.

  “To the maledictions. Like the Faery Queen said.” Poppy narrowed her eyes at the Oak. “You left that out. You didn’t tell us the maledictions are yours too!”

  The Holly Oak didn’t speak, but a streak of black rolled over her face. Poppy took that for confirmation.

  Mack took Poppy’s arm, lowering his voice. “If the maledictions are truly hers, then she … she kills people, Poppy!”

  Nula glued herself to Poppy’s other side.

  “Wait. Listen,” Poppy said. She turned away from the Oak so the three of them faced one another in a huddle. “I admit, if it’s not just the thorn trees that belong to her and it’s the maledictions too, it … doesn’t look good. But Nula, she gave you the book—or drew your attention to it. That means she wanted us to know about Prudence Barebone. And we know she’s been under a geis—unable to tell us everything. Mack, you’re the one that said there had to be more to this story, right? The Faery Queen told us the truth, but only part of it.”

  She spun to the tree. “I want the whole truth—all of it.”

  The Holly Oak gave Poppy a tight smile. Her dark eyes sparkled—with excitement or anger, Poppy couldn’t be sure.

  “I cannot tell you what you don’t already know, Pandora Sunshine. Not about this.”

  “Okay, then … we’ll figure it out. All you have to do is nod when we get it right. Okay?”

  The tree studied Poppy as another streak of black furrowed her brow. It cleared and she smiled. “I was right to trust in you, girl. You are as clever as your parents said.”

  Poppy’s cheeks grew hot. She cleared her throat. “You and Prudence Barebone struck a bargain—made a promise.”

  The tree looked away.

  “Prudence wanted to keep the peace, but she wanted more than that … didn’t she?”

  The Holly Oak’s expression turned thoughtful. “Yes,” she said softly. “Much more.”

  Nula clutched the tuft of her tail in her hands. “So, keeping the peace … that means any creature with ill intent stays out of the Hollows, and the people don’t try to cut down the forest. No one gets hurt? That sort of thing?”

  Poppy nodded, but Mack shook his head. “But maledictions do hurt people.” He lowered his voice. “So … is the Oak breaking her promise?”

  “Depends how it was worded, I guess.” Nula chewed the tip of her tail thoughtfully. “Maybe they s
aid no one could attack the Hollows or the wood. Maledictions don’t attack.”

  Poppy considered. “I mean, I don’t know if maledictions are … alive exactly? But whether they are or not, we know that their magic puts people in a trance. It doesn’t hurt them. Then the pickers lead them into the wood—they don’t hurt anyone themselves either. Each piece by itself is harmless.” She turned to the tree. “So, you’re not breaking the promise … it’s more like a trick … a series of loopholes.”

  The Holly Oak’s honey gold cheeks grew pink, but she said nothing to defend herself. Her dress of leaves rustled as she shifted uncomfortably.

  “Harmless until they get to the thorn trees,” Mack amended.

  “Right,” Poppy acknowledged. “The thorn trees kill people.”

  “More than just people,” Nula objected. “They kill anything they can get their … uh, hands on.”

  Poppy spun to the tree again, who was just waiting … her expression shifting between frustration and what Poppy thought might be pride. “But why would you allow that?” she asked.

  They fell silent.

  “Every creature must be true to its nature.” The Holly Oak held out her palms.

  Nula shook her head. “But that’s not a reason to go to all that trouble. Sure, thorn trees gotta eat. I can see that. But that’s different from seeding maledictions that lure people from Poppy’s Hollow … or some other Hollow.”

  Poppy met the Holly Oak’s bright eyes. “She’s right, isn’t she?”

  The Holly Oak nodded.

  “But you can’t tell us why.”

  She shook her head.

  “But it is you, isn’t it—the maledictions? They’re part of your magic.”

  The Holly Oak looked down to where her fingers twisted against her leafy gown and gave a stiff nod. “It is.”

  Beside her, Nula breathed in sharply. The pooka had paled to a light blue.

  “What’s wrong?” Poppy asked.

  Nula’s voice was so quiet, Poppy had to lean toward her to hear.

  “Maybe … she had to,” Nula choked. “Maybe there was something that she wanted so much—”

  “Who? The Oak?” Mack scoffed.

  “Or Prudence!” Poppy gasped. “The witch said she was greedy. Clever and greedy, but that she wasn’t selfish about it. Everyone benefited … something like that.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Nula protested.

  “Benefited how?” Mack asked.

  “What do people in the Hollows have that other people don’t?”

  “The fog? The wood?”

  Poppy shook her head. “I guess, but what else?”

  “You don’t get sick?”

  “That’s right…” Poppy’s heartbeat quickened. “We don’t get sick. Plus, we have really long lives.” Everything stilled. “Long life,” Poppy said, suddenly certain. “The witch said Prudence asked for long life. People in the Hollows … live.”

  Poppy spun to the Holly Oak. “Prudence was afraid of dying!”

  “What did I tell you.” Nula gave a grim nod. “Fear turns everything rotten. And she had to bargain for a long life for everyone. She didn’t want to be alone without her family … and friends.” Nula’s voice hitched.

  “And magic has a cost.” Mack met Poppy’s eyes, his face stricken.

  Poppy felt the blood drain from her face. “The peace was free, because it was equal. But when Prudence bargained for long life, the maledictions were the cost.” Bile rose in her throat. She’d never been so certain of anything. “Maledictions are the price of our extra years. Did they know? Did the people know? Did they agree to that?”

  The black streaks had stopped writhing over the Holly Oak’s warm brown skin. She looked … worn. Still beautiful, but older, as though the truth exhausted her. “They—”

  Nula groaned. “They probably didn’t discuss the specifics. They just saw those extra years … and all the beautiful outfits, and all the food. How could they say no?”

  Poppy cocked her head at Nula, then turned back to the tree. “What were you going to say?” she asked.

  “Wait,” Nula said. “I can’t stand it anymore! I need to…” Nula swallowed. “I have to tell you guys something. Right now. I need … I need you to understand.”

  “Okay, but—”

  Mack shook his head at Poppy. “Wait,” he said, his brows all bunched up in their worried way, as he turned to Nula.

  She was still talking. “You should see how happy everyone is at the dances. It’s not like it looked with all the spiders and … and the grouchiness.”

  Grouchiness? Mack and Poppy exchanged confused looks.

  Nula swallowed again and looked away. “No one ever dances alone, you know. You always have someone by your side in the faery court. You never have to … be alone.” She closed her eyes and a blue tear rolled down her cheek. “Oh, the dances,” she sighed.

  Mack reached out and wrapped his fingers around Poppy’s wrist as if he needed a tether. “I don’t think we’re talking about Prudence Barebone anymore, Poppy.”

  “Don’t you see?” Nula asked, turning her face to meet Poppy’s perplexed expression. “If the faeries accepted me … really accepted me, that meant I could finally be someone worthy … someone who deserved friends.”

  The pooka’s face had flushed a deep blue. She stared down at her lap. “I—I’m so sorry, Poppy. I’m really, really sorry.”

  Poppy reached out to take her friend’s hand, but Nula took a step back. “Nula! What’s going on? Sorry for what?”

  Mack released Poppy’s wrist.

  “I … I didn’t realize,” Nula went on. “I didn’t think about the true cost and … now I’ve ruined everything and I—I can’t even fix it! But I’m not under a geis, like the Holly Oak was … I have to at least try and explain.”

  “Nula.” Mack stepped closer. “What are you trying to tell us?”

  “Please, don’t come any closer, Mack. If you two try and make me feel better, I might change my mind and I can’t change my mind, because you’re my friends—not them. Not! Them!” Tears were pouring down Nula’s face, but she lifted her chin and met Poppy’s startled eyes.

  “They promised,” she hiccupped. “They promised I could be one of them—part of the faery court for real. They had heard about your cerberus and—” She stopped and held out her palms, pleading.

  All at once Poppy’s entire body went cold, as if she had fallen through ice. “You … you brought us to the faeries … because they wanted Dog?” She couldn’t breathe. “You traded Dog to join the Fae?”

  “But I don’t want that anymore, Poppy! They’re terrible! Mack! Please! I didn’t know what it would be like!” She was backing up now.

  “What what would be like?” Mack’s voice had turned gentle, and Poppy stared at him and then at Nula, as the cold running through her slowly began to burn. Dog was gone because Nula had betrayed them. The pooka had pretended to be their friend, but it was a lie.

  Nula dropped her face into her hands and wept. “Having friends,” she wailed. “I didn’t know what it would be like—having real friends.”

  There was the space of a single breath, before the fire in Poppy ignited. “GET OUT OF HERE!” she screamed, charging toward the pooka with her fingers like claws.

  Mack grabbed Poppy, holding her back. “Go, Nula,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” Nula sobbed, and poofed into a moth—disappearing up into the ceiling.

  Stillness followed Nula’s departure. Poppy could hear the blood pounding in her ears.

  The Holly Oak broke the silence. “I too am sorry, Poppy Sunshine,” she rumbled behind her. “I warned Prudence there would be a cost. The magic it takes to lengthen your lives is great—but even I did not realize how deep, and how dark, that cost would grow.”

  “Thank you for the truth,” Mack managed to say, stumbling as he tried to steer Poppy toward the door.

  Poppy couldn’t answer. Her chest was hollow. She couldn’t see thr
ough the thick tears that watered her feet. Mack moved her toward the exit, while Poppy wept as if she could patch up the holes in her heart by filling them with tears.

  Everything hurt.

  Dog was gone. Nula wasn’t her friend at all. She was her enemy. Her parents were trapped somewhere, and she didn’t know if she would ever find them. Maybe they weren’t alive at all. She had been so sure before. Now, she wasn’t sure of anything.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  There was only the cold glow of moonlight to illuminate their way as Mack led Poppy past the pavilions—where only a few creatures milled around—and down to the shore to set up camp for the night. They moved as if they shared a single mind, not speaking a word. Poppy gathered windfall wood, while Mack found a hearthstone and started a small fire. The Alcyon lapped at the shore. The air was crisp and smelled of salt water and ripe blackberries.

  Once they were settled, Mack walked back up to the pavilions and got them some dinner. It was roasted meat—hard to say what—in a blackberry sauce, which explained the smell in the air. There were potatoes too, and bitter greens. Poppy picked at her food and tried not to think about her parents, or Nula, or Dog.

  She tried not to think about anything. A sharp pain lanced through her chest, and she forced her thoughts to Prudence Barebone and the rhymes of the Grimwood. Everything she had learned tied itself in knots as she tried to make sense of it.

  She gave up.

  She felt hollowed out. She didn’t want to miss Nula, but she did, and it was infuriating. She hoped her parents were okay. She hoped they were planning an escape. She hoped they knew she would try to find them, no matter how long it took.

  The sea washed against the cobbled shore throughout the night, but despite its soft song, Poppy still couldn’t sleep. She lay awake, staring into the Holly Oak’s branches, thinking of everything she’d lost.