The Edge of Strange Hollow

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The Edge of Strange Hollow Page 26

by Gabrielle K. Byrne


  Poppy’s throat tightened. She took his hand, her own disappearing underneath. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Mack looked down at his lap, and Poppy saw a tear drop.

  “Mack—”

  “I’m really proud of you, Poppy.”

  Loud barking cut him off, followed by the sound of feet—like a herd of something—pounding up the stairs. Poppy leaned forward as the door flew open and a tiger careened into the room. She was followed by a three-headed dog.

  “Eta!” Poppy wailed, lurching to her knees on the bed. “Two! Brutus!”

  Dog launched onto the bed, threatening to trample Poppy with their love before they had finished greeting her.

  “Down, Dog.” Mack took their collar and pulled them off, letting Poppy catch her breath.

  “Nula,” Poppy gasped in between the licks of all three of Dog’s heads. “How?!”

  Nula reappeared and nudged Mack with her elbow. She grinned down at Poppy. “Glad to see you’re feeling better. Told you,” she added to Mack under her breath.

  “When you said you were going to run an errand, I didn’t realize you had this in mind,” Mack laughed. He paused, a slight frown twisting his features. “How did you do it? I didn’t think the Faery Queen would let Dog go for any reason.”

  A slight blue flush colored Nula’s cheeks. She shrugged, but Poppy noticed she wasn’t meeting their eyes. “Nula?”

  Nula shrugged again. “What can I say? I’m extremely clever.”

  Mack and Poppy exchanged glances. Mack sank to sit on the stool again, pulling Dog close. “And…”

  “And I am a first-class shape-shifter.”

  Poppy tipped her chin. “Go on.”

  Mack cleared his throat. “Nula, did you steal Dog from the Faery Queen?”

  Nula met his eyes. “Are you sure you want to know, elf?”

  Mack dropped his face into his hands.

  Poppy swallowed. “She’ll come for them.”

  “Nonsense,” Nula scoffed. “She’s already lost interest. I told you, it’s all about owning rare things with them. Now that she thinks she has them, she’ll forget all about them. And even if she doesn’t, she’ll just think they’ve run off.”

  Poppy rubbed her forehead against Eta’s. “I hope you’re right … but thank you. Thank you for bringing Dog home.” Poppy caught her and held on. “You’re a good friend, Nula.”

  When she finally let go, she leaned back to study her friends. Mack stood rocking back and forth on the balls of his bare feet. Nula was looking all around the room and swatting Dog on the rump with her tail.

  In that moment, Poppy knew—in a way she couldn’t quite explain—that her path had carried her somewhere new, and that she wanted to see where it would go next. And she knew that wherever the path went, she wanted to go there with Mack. And with Nula.

  “You know,” she said in a voice that turned both her friends’ faces toward her. “We make a pretty good team.”

  Mack’s eyebrows rose, and Nula put one hand on her hip.

  “I … I think we should maybe go into business.”

  Mack’s eyebrows got even higher.

  Poppy let out her most mischievous grin. “I think we should be ambassadors.”

  Nula whipped her tail. “What’s an ambassador? Is that like … those little animals that have armor and roll up in a ball?”

  “No. No, it’s not.”

  Mack blew out his breath. “An ambassador is like a peacekeeper, right? Someone who listens and learns and shares what they know with others.”

  “Think of it as being a professional friend.”

  Mack nose-sighed. “I’m in … but do you think it will be enough … I mean, can it keep the peace?”

  “I don’t know. But I want to try. And…”

  “And?” Mack smiled and shook his head. “Of course, there’s more.”

  Poppy wrapped her bandaged hands together in front of her as if she were going to say a prayer. “I was thinking…”

  Mack froze. “Thinking … about what?”

  Poppy smirked. “I was thinking about the passage stones.”

  “Oooooo,” Nula purred, her gold eyes sparking. “Now that sounds interesting.”

  EPILOGUE

  Poppy dropped into a chair with two small gargoyles carved on the back to wait. Sun poured in through the small round windows Jute had added to the front hall. It had taken a while for Poppy’s injuries to heal. She still tired easily. But … it was also true that she smirked less, and was prone to smiling in an easy, casual sort of way that was new. Poppy Sunshine was sunnier than she had ever been before, which is to say, she was a little bit sunny.

  She had been into Strange Hollow several times, and just last week had a fascinating conversation with Beth, who she was expecting to knock on the door at any moment.

  The Battle of Strange Hollow, and Poppy’s Pact, as they had come to be called, had changed almost everything. Though the people of Strange Hollow were still wary of Poppy and her family, now it was as much from awe as fear. They would raise their cups toward her if she passed, as if toasting her good health. They’d leave flowers on her doorstep. Some days she’d come out of the house to find a small group of people gathered outside as if they’d come on a pilgrimage.

  To her great embarrassment, she’d even heard some kids practicing a new skip-rope rhyme in her honor. It went like this:

  At the Battle, it is said,

  Poppy Sunshine lost her head

  Thank your lucky stars she bled

  If she hadn’t, we’d all be dead

  How many drops of blood she shed …

  One, two, three …

  Not everyone was so appreciative, of course. The governor hated them more than ever, and though it was a small group of people, he wasn’t alone. He did like being in charge, however, and since he didn’t want people to turn on him, he stayed quiet and bided his time. At least, that’s what Poppy’s father told her.

  Still, the whole thing had worked out better, and weirder, than she could ever have expected. She’d promised Mack the next time she went into the Hollow, he could come too. He had heard from her parents that the tavern had something new to eat called fish fingers, and he was dying to learn all about them.

  The Holly Oak had tasked her parents with arranging for a small group of townsfolk to visit each of the other six Hollows and spread the word of the new promise. They would offer a choice—people could agree to pledge themselves to the new pact, or they could leave on the next solstice through the fog.

  It would be Poppy’s first visit to the other Hollows. Mack and Nula were coming too, of course, but they all had something they had to do first. Poppy peered out the window. Where was Beth?

  Her father came into the hall wearing his best black shirt and jeans. Her mother followed. She had on a deep gray dress that drifted at her shins as she moved. Poppy stood and brushed off her own dress—dark blue with a belt that looked like stars. “How do I look?” she asked.

  Her mother beamed at her. “Like a hero,” she said. “Like the girl who saved us all from ourselves.”

  Poppy felt her cheeks heat. She smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Her father leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “We are so proud of you, Pandora.” He pulled the three of them into a hug. “We are a family of strong, stubborn, independent people … but we need one another.” He squeezed. “Thank you for reminding us.”

  “You’re welcome,” Poppy gave a muffled laugh into his chest.

  She was going to have to tell them sometime, of course … about her plans. Maybe after they got back from the other Hollows. For now, Poppy hadn’t even told Mack and Nula exactly what she had in mind. She had some details to work out, but she knew some stuff. She knew she wanted them to track down and map all the passage stones—cartography it was called. They would figure out which stones were magical leaps to other parts of the wood, and which stones were just … stones. They’d have to figure out how they worked too,
of course.

  Really, she wondered if perhaps her true calling was to map the whole Grimwood—if she could. A cartographer and an adventurer. She rolled the words over in her mind and smiled.

  There was a knock at the door, and Jute hustled past to answer, casting a fond look at the three of them huddled together. He swung it open.

  Beth, grinning in her usual market dress, startled at the sight of him. “My—you’re quite something, aren’t you?”

  Jute chuckled. “Won’t you come in?”

  Mack and Fionnula came in on Beth’s heels, and she cast Nula a nervous look. “So much to learn.” She hesitated, then moved to Poppy’s side.

  Poppy threw her arms around the old woman. “I’m so glad you’re here, Beth. I’m glad you get to finally meet my family.”

  Beth’s wrinkled face broke into a smile. “And a fine family they are, lightning bug.”

  Mack raised an eyebrow.

  Beth patted Poppy’s hand. “Let’s take the picture outside, all right? The light is better, and we have to see all your faces if the statue in the square is going to be right.”

  Nula snorted. “I still can’t believe they’re making a statue of us,” she laughed.

  “A fountain, they decided,” Beth corrected. “Bringing someone through the fog specially this solstice.”

  Mack gave her shoulder a gentle pat. “It was nice of the folks in Strange Hollow to insist like they did.”

  Beth laughed. “It was that little girl Mags’s idea, of course. She is a firecracker! I haven’t seen one like her since…” Her eyes drifted to Poppy.

  Nula and Mack both laughed. Poppy’s cheeks grew hot again.

  Beth’s smile faded. “I am sorry about my son’s attempt to keep them from honoring you all. He cannot understand what his anger has cost him. I’m afraid he’s governor in name only … and even that won’t last much longer.” She leaned down to whisper in Poppy’s ear. “There are rumors that your father’s name has been put forward for the job.”

  “Well, let’s get on with it, then,” her father said, cutting off Beth’s whispers and hurrying them outside. “Mack, can you grab Dog?”

  “Yes,” Poppy called back, steering her father out into the meadow. “We’re not a family without Dog! Now, Jute—you come stand by Mom. Mack, you’ll have to be at the back and hold Dog. No, over there. Nula, you’re up front here. Mom, Dad with me by Jute.”

  Beth lifted the black box that her father used to take pictures.

  “Say Fae!” the old woman cried.

  “Fae!” They all grinned diligently. Eta barked.

  Beth lowered the box and smiled. “One for the ages—and I lived to see it.”

  “Now.” Her father took the box back from Beth. “We’ll develop the picture in the lab and be sure to get one to you, Beth.”

  Beth thanked them. “I’ll have to give it to the sculptor when they bring them through.”

  “You’ll have it,” her father promised.

  “Can you make another one?” Poppy asked. “One just for us?”

  His face softened. “Of course I can, Poppy Sunshine.”

  “What a lovely idea, Poppy,” her mother chimed in.

  “Yes,” said Beth. “You should have a record of this day and your beautiful family.”

  Poppy moved to stand next to Mack and Nula, more excited about the future than she had ever thought possible. “We can hang it in the hall.” She smiled.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  What a time 2020 has been—for all of us—this whole past year. I am so very grateful for all of my readers, and for the opportunity to share this new story with you. There aren’t enough exclamation points in the world to capture how emphatically blessed I feel!!! I’m especially thankful for my editor—Nicole Otto. You are a unicorn—rare and amazing. This wild little world of mine became so much more powerful through your care and expertise. Thank you to my agent, Catherine Drayton, at Inkwell Management. You are as stalwart and true as any knight! Thanks also to Claire Friedman at Inkwell for her insights and support. I’m beyond grateful to everyone at Imprint/Macmillan—Erin Stein, Weslie Turner, Raymond Ernesto Colon, Dawn Ryan, John Morgan, Natalie Sousa, Jessica Chung, Elynn Cohen, Carolyn Bull, Katie Halata, and Madison Furr. Thank you to Brandon Dorman for my absolutely stunning cover art. What a treat it was to see my story for the first time. Thank you to Grace Kendall and to everyone at FSG for your kind enthusiasm, and for jumping in to support this book. I appreciate it more than I can say.

  I’m so incredibly lucky to have the support and friendship of a wonderful writing community. I want to especially thank Heather Kassner, and Gita Trelease, who gave this story (and this author) love at every opportunity. I so look forward to sharing cocktails and “vats” in person—and to laughing over velcros past and present, among endless other things. Thank you to my longtime friends and writing partners, Julie Artz and Jessica Vitalis, who read and gave input on EoSH, and to Sara Faring, Rebecca Petruck, and Mark Holtzen for their kind words and support. Speaking of kind words … thank you to Fran Wilde and Quinn Sosna-Spear for their lovely quotes on the cover of EoSH.

  Thank you to my amazing group of Pitch Wars writer-friends—the PNW Mentors on the Sound, and especially to Joy McCullough for her ongoing friendship. It is so lovely to have such a wonderful group of people with whom to write, build friendships, and make change. I’m looking forward to the time when we can meet up in person again!

  All books are built with an author’s blood, sweat, and tears. We need a lot of support, and I’ve had the advantage of caring friends and family who have believed in me from the beginning. I’m thankful to my lifelong friends for their constancy and shine: Meryl McQueen, Katrina Alcorn, Erin Mooney, Hannah Field, and Heather Ostle.

  I want to thank my parents, Sally W. Kirouac and George J. Kirouac for their endless and unequivocal support. Mom, I love you—and am so grateful you get to hold my stories in your hands and see what your unpredictable child has wrought. Dad—I miss you. I’m sending you a campfire song, a coffee (black) and some cackling, wherever you are. Thank you to my sister, Martha, and my brother, Ian. You two are my bookends—you keep me upright. I love you. Thank you to my aunt, Mary Lou Hurley, and to Bernie Pilichowski for a lifetime of support and love, and to author Barbara Hazen for being an early inspiration. Last, but never least, thanks to the enormous (in numbers and in heart) Torras/Byrne clan, and to the Wilson/Reeder, and Wolter clans for all of their love and support.

  Thank you to my daughters for putting up with me, and for their ongoing inspiration. I am so proud of who you are both becoming. And finally I want to say thank you to my husband and best friend, Daeg. For twenty years, through thick and thin, I’ve counted on your love and support, your thoughtful input, your soothsaying, your amazing coffee, and most of all your true presence. You are my north star, and I love you.

  Thank you, readers. Thank you, universe. Keep going. I love you.

  ALSO BY GABRIELLE K. BYRNE

  Rise of the Dragon Moon

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Gabrielle K. Byrne is the author of Rise of the Dragon Moon and The Edge of Strange Hollow. She lives in the rainy wilds of the Pacific Northwest, where she writes fantasy for kids of all ages. Gabby studied opera in Philadelphia, medieval studies in New York, literature in Scotland, and marine biology in the Pacific Northwest, but writing stories is the common thread that ties all her interests together. When she’s not writing, she can be found fishing spineless beasties out of the Salish Sea with her husband and two daughters. Gabby is a mentor for the Pitch Wars writing contest, and a contributor at The Winged Pen blog. You can sign up for email updates here.

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  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Once Upon a Time

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Gabrielle K. Byrne

  About the Author

  Copyright

  A part of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC 120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271

  THE EDGE OF STRANGE HOLLOW. Copyright © 2021 by Gabrielle K. Byrne. All rights reserved.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

  ISBN 978-1-250-62466-6 (hardcover) / ISBN 978-1-250-62467-3 (ebook)

  Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact your local bookseller or the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at (800) 221-7945 ext. 5442 or by email at [email protected].

  Imprint logo designed by Amanda Spielman

  First edition, 2021

 

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