Once they got past the stone clock tower in the center of the square, the road twisted past the brickmakers’s and the herbalist’s, through darkened side streets. Poppy passed house after house, and all, without fail, had their warding bells hung at the top of the doorframes, and a line of salt and iron at the footboard. Most also had lines of salt along their windowsills.
A horrible thought struck Poppy. “Nula? What if … What if my parents aren’t in Strange Hollow? What if they’re on the other side of the wood?”
“In one of the other Hollows?” Nula’s voice hissed from the shadows. “They could be. I don’t know.” She twitched an ear. “But we’ve got packs ready back in the meadow. We can keep going if we have to.”
Poppy frowned. “I don’t even know how far Trader’s Hollow is, but it’s on the other side of the wood … so it’s days, at least.” Anxiety squirmed in her gut. What if they didn’t have days? What if she was too late?
“We’ll just have to do our best. We’ve got each other…”
Poppy bit her lip. “You’re right. We’ll search here, and if they aren’t in Strange Hollow, then we’ll have to find them the old-fashioned way.”
Nula’s gold eyes shone out of the darkness under the eaves. “What’s the old-fashioned way?”
Poppy grimaced. “Keep looking.”
They moved to the edge of town. The air smelled of petrichor and tomato leaves and night. Poppy inhaled deeply as they moved between the houses, staying close together and moving fast. Nothing seemed out of place or strange. There were no locks … or chains across a door to give away her parents’ location.
The town was quiet. They touched base with Mags twice as the night ticked past. Each time the girl shook her head, and each time, Poppy’s hope waned a little thinner.
Nula skirted a fancy two-story house with a newly thatched roof and three windows facing the street. She stopped at the edge of the house. “It’s time to turn back toward the square, Poppy.”
“Already? So soon?”
“Yeah,” Nula said in a low voice, but her eyes were pinned to the ground.
Mack and Mags, along with her brother and several of the other children were waiting. They looked exhausted. One girl had her shoes off and sat on the cobbles rubbing her feet.
“Anything?” Poppy asked.
Mack shook his head. Mags folded her arms, but her expression was apologetic. “We tried. We searched all the outbuildings and storehouses. There are a few abandoned houses that some of the kids checked too. There’s no sign that anyone’s being kept there.” She scowled. “I—I’m sorry. We did our best, but there’s nowhere else to look.”
Poppy felt her shoulders slump. They weren’t going to find her parents this way. “Thanks for trying.” She started to hand back Mags’s little whistle.
“Listen, Peter and I will make one more round and I’ll come to you in the square if we find anything. You … keep the whistle,” Mags added, giving them another apologetic look as Peter tugged her toward the other side of town. “We can’t stay out too much longer. We’ve got to get back before dawn.”
Poppy watched them go. The girl was fierce, kind, and clever—everything a girl should aspire to be. There was no telling what she would accomplish, but Poppy was glad Mags was on her side.
When the kids had gone, Mack turned to Poppy. “East or west?”
Poppy sighed. “Either. I guess. We’ll check around once more too … then we’ll get our packs and try to come up with a way to stop the governor.” She tried to ignore the feeling of despair that seeped into her heart like bog water. “After that—I guess we’ll see. Maybe my parents are in Golden Hollow.”
Somewhere in the square a door banged. Poppy, Mack, and Nula pressed themselves against the wall of a heavily roofed house. The thatch hung low, casting thick shadows over them. They all held their breath as a dark-haired woman hurried across the square with a basket on her arm. She jumped when a bird fluttered nearby collecting bugs from the cobbles in the dim light.
The woman glanced over her shoulder, as if she was afraid someone had seen her.
Poppy scowled. There were plenty of ways for people to be up to no good. There was no guarantee that the woman had anything to do with Poppy’s parents. But there was something about it that put Poppy’s teeth on edge—something that told her to trace the woman’s path.
Mack and Nula followed as Poppy slipped slowly around the back side of the clock tower, but there was no sign of the woman. She spun to stare back across the square.
Nothing. She was gone.
The sky was just beginning to glow in the east with the first hints of dawn. The cobbles gleamed wetly.
Poppy raced around the edge of the square with Mack and Nula on her heels. She checked down each side street, but all of them were empty and cold, still draped in the night’s shadows. Behind them a door slammed again and Poppy turned to see the woman disappear, this time into the shadows on the far side of the square.
Nula gave a low snarl.
“She could have come from anywhere,” Mack admitted.
“Except she didn’t,” Nula said, sniffing the air. She dashed toward the clock tower in the middle of the square with Poppy and Mack right behind her. When they reached the backside of the clock tower, which still lay in shadow, Poppy held her breath while Nula studied the stones. After a moment, the pooka cocked her head, reaching out to trace her fingertips over a thin line of shadow that stretched up the clock tower wall. “Here,” she said, her voice hushed.
Poppy let her breath out, shifting closer to see. A crack ran across the top. “A door!” She couldn’t hide. There was no handle, but the seal wasn’t tight enough to keep it completely hidden from view.
“There’s probably a lever or something,” Poppy said, sliding her hands over the stones.
“Too slow,” Nula grunted and levered her clawlike nails into the crack of the door. Nula pulled hard, and after a moment, Poppy slipped her fingertips into the cracks next to Nula’s so they could pull together. Mack stood behind them as they hauled back on the edge. As soon as the crack was big enough for his fingers, he took hold of it and yanked.
The door flew open, scraping against the cobbles with a terrible noise.
Across the square, shutters banged shut, someone closing their window. Whether against the noise or the chill, Poppy couldn’t be sure.
A lantern hung just inside the clock tower door—still warm. Someone had just been here. Poppy’s heart began to pound a heavy drumbeat in her chest. She looked at Mack … then Nula. “Do you think…”
Mack stared into the black, his face fierce.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Nula growled, disappearing into the dark.
Poppy fumbled with a match, trying to light the lantern with shaking hands.
“There are stairs back here,” Nula called softly.
At last the match flared to life and Poppy lit the lantern, holding it high. She and Mack moved to look up the narrow stair that twisted up into the tower.
The steps looked rickety, and the first one Poppy stepped on creaked as though it feared for its life. Nula stepped aside to let Poppy pass, she and Mack following behind.
The whole scaffold shivered and rocked from side to side as though it hadn’t been used in an age. Poppy could see in the glow of the lamplight that the stairs weren’t dusty, even though everything else was thick with cobwebs. Someone was using them. She moved faster.
A family of bats flapped past, and Nula muttered a curse that made Mack blush. They got higher and higher, following the creaking steps as they curled around the inside walls of the tower. At the top was a platform, and there they found another narrow door, its curling black iron handle the only decoration.
Poppy took a breath and gave it a yank that echoed through the tower. “Locked.”
Nula crouched low to look beneath the handle. She rose with a grin. “They never learn.” Then she was gone, and the tail of a thin green snake vanished un
der the handle.
Mack bent to look. “She went through the keyhole,” he confirmed.
The door swung open a moment later, and Nula swept them in.
Poppy froze. She couldn’t take a breath against the weight on her chest. Across the room, tied into two cushioned chairs, were her parents. Their eyes were closed, and they were both gagged.
Were they dead? Her stomach lurched. A scatter of dirty dishes had been pushed to the side. No. Not dead. Nobody fed dead people … and they don’t gag them either, her brain supplied a moment later. She gave a sharp inhale as her mother opened her eyes.
Poppy crept forward, her heart in her throat, each of them staring wide-eyed at one another—then tears sprang into her mother’s eyes, and Poppy was wrapping her arms around her.
A grunt from the other chair spun her around. Her father, staring at her with amazement—and, love? She laughed in relief, and moved to hug him. Mack was busy taking the cloth off her mother’s mouth as Nula untied her father’s wrists.
“Poppy,” her mother gasped. “What are you doing here?”
“Rescuing you,” Poppy laughed again as she took the cloth from her father’s mouth.
“But how did you find us?” he asked with wonder in his voice.
Nula piped up from behind him. “Poppy’s an amazing human.”
Poppy’s cheeks heated. “I had a lot of help.” She smiled.
Mack rose from untying her mother and came to her side. “Who did this to you?”
“It was the governor,” her father said through gritted teeth. “Him and his pack of zealots.”
“He wanted us to tell him how to destroy the Grimwood,” her mother added, rushing to throw off the ropes on her father’s ankles. “To help him do it! As if we could tell them anything they don’t already know.” Her face darkened. “As if we would.”
“We should leave,” Mack said, his voice low.
“Are you all right?” Poppy asked them. “Can you walk?”
“Yes,” her mother started, “but Poppy…”
“There’s lots to tell you, but it will have to wait. We need to get out of here before they catch us.”
Her father rose from the chair, bending to rub the cramps out of his legs. “I think we should listen to Poppy, love. I think she knows what she’s doing.”
“Well, she’s her father’s daughter,” her mother agreed. “Lead the way, Poppy Sunshine.”
They moved as fast as they could, but with so many of them on the delicate scaffolding, the stairs had begun to sway in earnest, creaking and cracking in a way that made everyone jumpy.
Poppy reached the bottom and gathered them all together to check that the coast was clear before heading out into the dusky dawn to make their way home.
As they turned a corner, though, Poppy came face-to-face with a crowd of angry looking men and women—all waiting for her and her family with torches in their hands. She spotted the woman she had seen crossing the square, and standing next to her, his face pale and full of shadows, was Governor Gale. His expression contorted into a mask more frightening than any monster’s. “Going somewhere?” he asked.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Before Poppy could say a word, Nula had reached into Poppy’s pocket, pulled out the whistle, and blown a loud, shrill blast across the square.
For a split second everyone froze. Poppy stared at her.
“What?” Nula said. “Better too soon than too late.”
An instant later, the townsfolk had them.
“You think you’re beyond justice,” Governor Gale snarled, as one of his burly followers grabbed Poppy’s arm in a grip that was sure to leave bruises. “You think, because your family serves the Grimwood, that you’re safe—never mind what happens to the rest of us. Well, the tide has turned. We humans are coming to our senses. It’s time to make our world safe and clean at last. And you’re just in time to watch it all burn.”
“You can’t do that,” Poppy said. “You don’t understand—”
“Oh, I understand, little girl. I understand that you and your family are in league with monsters.”
“Leave Poppy out of this,” her father shouted, and she looked over her shoulder to see that he had shaken off one of his captors. “She has nothing to do with the Grimwood. It’s her mother and I that hunt maledictions.”
“So, you admit it. You search for these maledictions—for our benefit, you say. But I say you bring them to our doorstep. I say you help the wood capture our people! You have been given free rein for too long. No more! Now it ends! Now the Grimwood ends … and you end with it!”
“We hunt them to save you!” her mother cried.
“You don’t keep us safe,” someone shouted.
The adults broke out in a chorus of yells around them. Poppy tried to break free from the two townspeople holding her arms, but she couldn’t escape their grip. She tried to shout over the din.
“Burn it down!” they shouted. “Liars! Murderers!”
“That’s not true!” Poppy yelled.
No one even turned their heads.
“Throw them to the thorn trees!”
“Stop! Please! You can’t break the promise! Please, you have to listen to me!” Poppy struggled. “The Hollows made a promise! They were led by Prudence Barebone. They made a promise with the Holly Oak for all generations…”
But the townsfolk weren’t listening—they were too busy shouting insults and angry words as they dragged Poppy, her friends, and her parents back toward the tower door. Mack or Nula could easily have overpowered them, but some of them held knives, and she could see from the pleading expression Mack wore that he didn’t want anyone to get hurt.
Nula had no such qualms. She turned herself into a tiger and people screamed and fell back. She roared and threatened, swiping at them with her claws outstretched. Poppy could tell she had no intention of attacking, but it was a good distraction. Poppy took advantage of it by stomping on the toes of the man who held her right arm, and elbowing the man who gripped her left arm in his stomach. She twisted herself out of their grasp.
Two men still held Mack, but Nula had distracted the rest, and he shook them off. Poppy drew her knife and, back-to-back, she and Mack made their way through the crowd toward her parents. Nula, still in tiger form, followed, parting the crowd around her.
Poppy met her father’s eyes as they passed and let them fill with a question—“Are you ready?”
He gave a tiny nod.
“Now, Nula!” Poppy cried, and her friend lunged at the men who held Poppy’s parents.
They let go.
“Come on!” Mack bellowed, following Nula’s lead and lunging at the crowd. Nula let out another roar and the crowd scattered.
Poppy yelled, “Run!”
They all ran—back through the town as if monsters were at their heels.
And they were.
The townsfolk gathered again behind them, their torchlights flickering against the alleys and cobbled streets as they followed. Angry voices rang against the stones as the crowd chased Poppy, her family, and friends through the early dawn streets.
“Poppy, where are we going?” her father called.
“We’re going home!”
Mack slowed, falling to the back to let her parents move ahead. “It’s high ground at least, and maybe they’ll get tired of chasing us once we’re out of the Hollow.”
But they didn’t.
The townsfolk followed, calling insults and promising violence.
“Burn it down!” the governor’s voice rose above the crowd. “It ends today! Burn it all down!”
Poppy wove through the standing stones across the meadow, the breath harsh in her throat. They all ran up the hillside, beating down the dawn-lit wildflowers, but still the mob came.
Her house—her beautiful, strange home, was lit and welcoming. She could see a tall figure on the porch.
“Jute!” she screamed.
He flew off the porch, racing for them with hi
s knees lifting high. “Come!” He waved them ahead. “Hurry. Get inside.”
They were all tired, and her parents were struggling up the hill, their legs dull from days of captivity. Mack grabbed Poppy’s father, and Jute took her mother in his arms—stumbling for the house. Behind them the glow of torches moved forward with the threatening rumble of angry voices.
When the door to their house was shut and locked behind them, they all collapsed to the hall floor, panting and heaving. Inside, it was warm and quiet, the voices outside fading. “Now what,” Poppy gasped. “Will we have to fight them?”
Her father rose to his feet. “I hope not, Poppy. I hope we can talk sense into them. But we can’t take any chances. Jasmine, get the net guns from storage. Jute, go to the lab. There’s a jar of stonebrew on the shelf. Get as many small jars filled as you can. Poppy? There’s a room in the cellar…”
“We’re not hiding. Don’t even ask.”
He paused, a small smile playing across his face. “No. I don’t suppose you would.”
Poppy took the net gun her father offered her. She secured her knife in her boot. “What’s stonebrew?”
Her mother let out a bark of laughter, and lifted one hand to touch Poppy’s cheek. “Oh, Poppy Sunshine. I missed your questions.”
“It’s something your mother and I cooked up,” her father said. “It freezes most creatures—but only for a few seconds.”
“Seconds can help,” Mack confirmed.
Nula touched Poppy’s arm, then Mack’s, before shifting herself back into a tiger.
“Everything’s locked upstairs,” Jute said, hurrying down the stairs to join them in the hall. He held a basket of thumb-size jars, and everyone shoved a few into their pockets.
Her heart racing, Poppy took the memory of them, all together, into her mind. She wanted to remember it forever. She would do whatever it took to keep them all safe. She knew it with every cell in her body. Everyone moved closer to one another and waited, watching the door. Only a minute had passed before someone pounded on it.
The Edge of Strange Hollow Page 24