The Hollow: At The Edge

by Andrew Day

  “I remember you once threw me in a lake so I would know how,” Holly replied reproachfully.

  “And aren’t you glad I did?”

  “What if they come after us?”

  “No creature is so stupid it would follow its prey over a cliff,” replied Caellix. “And these things, whatever they are, are not stupid.”

  That seemed all too true. Serrel saw one of the creatures glance towards the cliff edge, then back at them. It growled. The closer they got to the cliff, the more worked up the creatures became. They attacked the shield more desperately. Eventually all three of them formed themselves up straight in the group’s path and refused to move. Serrel bumped them with the shield but they stayed steadfast. To his mind, they even managed to look a little smug.

  “What now?” Holly asked.

  Serrel felt Dhulrael’s hand leave his shoulder. “I am sorry,” panted the elf. “That is all I can dare to give you. I am at the edge of the abyss.”

  “You’ve done enough,” Serrel told him gratefully. He glared at the creatures. He was still scared of them, but a little tiny spark of irritation was starting to eat away at that fear.

  Kraken, sharks, bloody monster elves, and now these things. He was not getting eaten by anything in the Faelands, and especially not by bloody creepy, wolf-insect monsters.

  “Get behind me,” he told Caellix.

  The sergeant complied. “And?”

  “Everyone, back up. Slowly.”

  They took several long steps back in unison. The creatures stood in a line together, watching in anticipation.

  “And you all thought my plan was bad,” Caellix said with grim smile.

  Serrel took a deep breath. “Everyone run for the cliff edge. Make sure I stay between you and these things at all times.”

  “Say the word, Fresh Meat.”

  Serrel reshaped the shield, and lowered his staff so that it was pointing at the creatures. They seemed to realise something was happening, and lowered their heads.

  You’re going to die, and you’re going to kill everyone with you, came a familiar voice in his head.

  Shut up, he thought angrily.

  “Go!” he shouted, and charged at the creatures as fast as he could.

  The three monsters waited, bracing their legs and preparing to strike, to pounce on his shield and stop his forward momentum. To block their passage.

  Serrel had heard that very, very skilled mages could weave multiple spells at the same time. It took a lot of concentration, and having only officially been a mage for a little over a month, Serrel could only dream that he would one day have that kind of skill. As it was, he had to plan on being able to weave very, very fast.

  Moments before the creatures pounced, Serrel dispelled the shield, and weaved a wave of force at the creatures fuelled by all the fear and anger that had been repressed over the last few days. Fear of his death, of the death of his friends, anger at his own inability to prevent it, even the trepidation of the fact that he was going to have to leap off a damned cliff into what he only hoped was deep water.

  The wave was powerful, more powerful than even he expected, but uncontrolled and unrefined. It took a lot out of him, burning away more of his energy than he should have, but it had the desired effect.

  The creatures, expecting a shield, and milliseconds from pouncing against it, were lifted from the ground and hurled in different directions across the forest. Two spun through the air to the left, the third flew howling into a tree at a speed guaranteed to cause maximum hurt. It was all rather satisfying.

  Not that the group bothered to look. They ran as fast as they could for the cliff, Serrel slowing down to take up the rear and guard against the monsters. He dropped his shield back into place just as as the first one flipped itself acrobatically back to its feet and leapt at him.

  “Hurry up!” he yelled at the others.

  Caellix reached the cliff, and paused. She yelled something in her own language, and her dogs fearlessly leapt over the side and disappeared from view. Dogbreath followed, grinning broadly, with Holly and Brant right behind him. Holly screamed a rather crude curse word all the way down.

  Dhulrael simply closed his eyes and jumped. Serrel thought he heard, “Oh, gods!” just before the elf went over.

  Caellix paused. “Come on, Fresh Meat!”

  Serrel backed quickly towards her, not taking his eyes from the three creatures that stalked towards him, clearly not happy. They backed him up against the edge of the cliff with Caellix, his shield holding them at bay.

  He glanced briefly over his shoulder. There was water below, moving fast. Faster than he would have liked. The cliff probably wasn’t that high, in truth. But from where he was standing it looked like an obscenely long way down to Serrel. He did not see any sign of the other Hounds.

  “You have to go first,” he told Caellix.

  She frowned at him, clearly unhappy with that. “Don’t take all day, Fresh Meat,” she said grudgingly.

  Then she turned, and dove from the cliff in a perfect, graceful arc. Serrel watched her splash down and disappear beneath the turbulent river. He turned back to the creatures, whose weird green eyes were all locked onto him. One of them, the largest and most fearsome looking one, stepped forwards towards him. It bared its teeth, mandibles opened wide.

  “Sorry, boy,” Serrel told it. “Lunch is cancelled.”

  He turned and jumped. Unfortunately the creature bounded forwards and leapt after him. Caellix had been wrong. A smart predator might chase its prey over a cliff if it is sufficiently pissed off enough.

  By chance, Serrel was still weaving his shield as he fell, just as a precaution. The creature slammed straight into it in mid air in a flash of green light, the force of its impact sending him flipping head over heels through the air as he plummeted downwards. Serrel caught glimpses of the water below, the cliff speeding by him rapidly, and the grey body of the creature twisting in mid air beside him as he spun dizzyingly about.

  He hit the river below hard, on his back. The impact knocked him breathless as he dropped straight down into the icy cold water. He flailed desperately as the current picked him up and dragged him downstream. He ignored the dark shadow that loomed over him, didn’t even notice the long claws swiping at his face. He focused only on kicking his legs and paddling with his arms to the surface.

  He rose out of the water, and gasped for breath, just as a large wave broke over his head and nearly pushed him back under. He forced his way back up, and emerged in glorious daylight to take deep, wonderful gulps of air.

  Then a huge clawed hand slapped at the water not far from his head. The creature swam at him, its long limbs moving deftly through the water, its eyes fixed unwaveringly on its prey. Serrel could only paddle uselessly backwards, unable to get away. His right arm moved to slowly, weighed down by something. He realised too late that he had managed to keep a hold of his staff.

  With a single lunge, the creature was on him. One paw landed on his chest, the long claws digging into his left shoulder, and then its weight pushed him back down into the icy water. The creature pushed him deep down with powerful kicks of its legs. It’s mouth opened, mandibles spread, jaws wide, as it moved forwards to make the killing bite. Serrel was close enough to see its tongue was covered with sharp, backward pointing barbs.

  Painfully slow, he lifted his staff and pushed it in front of him. The creatures mouth closed over the end of his staff, and began to bite down.

  Not knowing if it would even work, Serrel weaved the ether into a ball of energy at the end of his staff, and released it.

  The creature’s head exploded, turning the water red. Its limbs kicked and spasmed uncontrollably in its death throes. Serrel frantically fought out of the creature’s dying grasp, and kicked back to the surface. His head popped back above the water, lungs burning, and he gasped for air.

  He just managed to get his breath back, when something big and solid slammed into his back. It was a large rock, poking through
the water’s surface. Serrel bounced off, and coughing and spluttering, continued downriver before slamming into another one.

  The river narrowed, and grew fiercer and more turbulent. All he could do was try and stay afloat as the current sped him dangerously through the rapids, spinning him around, tossing him up and down. He tried to weave a shield to fend off the rocks that threatened to break him apart, but the force of the water churning around him sapped away too much energy. He could only leave himself at the river’s mercy.

  With one final plunge over a deep cascade, Serrel was thrown back under the surface. His staff was torn from his grasp and spun away out of sight. He flailed and kicked, and fought as hard as he could to stay alive.

  Finally, the river took mercy on him. As it widened, the raging water calmed, and the rapids died away. Still carried rapidly downstream by the current, Serrel swam with numb, aching limbs to the shore, and dragged himself from the water.

  For a while all he could do was cough and splutter, struggling for breath while curled in a soaking wet ball. With the last of his strength, he rolled on his back to face the blue sky.

  He lay flat on the ground, unwilling to move. His mind was still too jumbled from shock and terror, and he couldn’t hold a coherent thought for very long. Eventually, he just closed his eyes, and let the darkness overtake him.

  He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, when suddenly there was the sound of some kind of large animal, panting as it stood right next to him. His eyes shot open to behold a large black and tan dog, tail wagging and tongue lolling, standing over him. He breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Hello, Vost,” he said weakly.

  The dog started licked his face happily. Serrel spluttered again, this time from dog saliva.

  “Get off!”

  The dog barked, then suddenly turned and bounded off. Serrel contemplated going after it, but couldn’t rouse the strength. But the dog reappeared just as quickly, dragging what, at first glance, appeared to be a long branch in its mouth.

  It was Serrel’s staff. The dog brought it over to him, and dropped it on his head with a wooden clunk. He stared at Serrel expectantly as Serrel rubbed the newest lump on his head.

  “Thanks, boy,” Serrel said finally. He reached up and scratched Vost behind the ears in gratitude.

  Vost barked happily, then turned and once again disappeared into the trees. Serrel examined his staff, and found that despite a few teeth marks, it was not badly damaged. Hopefully it would still work. He held it to his chest and continued to lie on the ground, regaining his strength. When he eventually lifted himself upright, Vost returned, this time with Ripper, followed behind by Sergeant Caellix.

  “Fresh Meat? Still alive I see,” she said, perhaps even with the tiniest hint of relief.

  “To an extent. I think I may have swallowed half the river,” Serrel coughed again.

  “Take it easy, Fresh Meat,” Caellix told him. “Don’t rush. You know how close to dying you just were?”

  “Closer than you might think,” Serrel replied. Between coughs he explained in a raspy voice about the creature coming after him.

  “That’s why I could only see two,” Caellix nodded. “You are a crafty little bastard when you want to be, Fresh Meat.”

  “Thanks, Sergeant.”

  “But we still have a problem.”

  “Really?” Serrel was crestfallen. “What now?”

  Caellix nodded towards the river. Serrel looked to the cliff on the other side, and caught a flash of movement at the top, and a quick glance of green eyes.

  “Don’t those things ever give up?”

  “I guess not,” said Caellix. “They aren’t following us into the river at least. But there’s a crossing up ahead. That was where we were heading before. They’ll be after us in no time.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “Simple. We kill them first.”

  “Of course. Simple,” Serrel repeated, still leaning on his staff for support. “Where are the others?”

  “Up and down the river. We had better go find them before they get into trouble. Come on.”

  Serrel followed tiredly in Caellix’s wake. In a rare moment of sympathy, she went slowly enough for him to recover.

  “You do have a plan for getting those things, right?” asked Serrel.

  “Of course,” said Caellix.

  “Is it better than your last plan?”

  “Marginally.” She gave Serrel her predatory smile. “But it worked, didn’t it?”

  Dhulrael stumbled through the forest, cold, wet and lost. He was still fatigued from the loss of energy, and teetered close to the Hollow, or the waking abyss as he called it. He wondered where the others were.

  “Sergeant!” he called out.

  There was no reply. The forest was quiet. Dhulrael went onwards, almost tripping on a tree root with his typical lack of coordination. His progress was observed by several onlookers, including two green eyed crows that perched side by side, watching the elf’s progress with happy optimism that their future would most likely hold an easily scavenged meal. And from the looks of it, fairly soon.

  “Sergeant Caellix!” Dhulrael called again. “Caster Hawthorne! Corporal Wells! Brant!” At rather a lower volume, “Dogbreath?”

  Something snapped loudly in the trees, not too far away. The two crows realised they weren’t that hungry and took off, frantically squawking.

  Dhulrael swallowed, and turned in a slow circle, trying to see as much of the forest as he could at once. He saw movement in the brush, and six green eyes staring back at him. He turned and ran as fast as he could.

  One of the creatures exploded from the undergrowth, and sprinted after him. It could have overtaken him and killed him easily, but it held back, content to herd him in one direction. Dhulrael did not even bother to call for help. He saved his breath for running.

  Then right in front of him, the second creature leapt out and blocked his path. Dhulrael slid to a stop and changed direction. The first creature was already in place, cutting off his escape. The elf stumbled, and backed away. He pushed himself against a tree as though he could sink right through the trunk and escape to safety.

  The creatures advanced on him slowly. Dhulrael waited for the attack, to be torn to pieces. Or were the creatures going to be content with dragging him away, back to the Ferine as he feared they would?

  A twig cracked loudly somewhere in the distance. The first creature’s head snapped to the side, seeking the source of the noise, and got an arrow straight through one of its main eyes.

  It howled in pain, and pawed at its head desperately. The second creature barely had time to register the attack, before another arrow shot through the air from the opposite direction and impaled itself in the thick hide behind one shoulder. It turned and saw Brant half hidden behind a tree with his bow in hand.

  Brant said, “Oh, bollocks,” then turned and ran.

  The second creature took off after him, while its companion swept its remaining eyes across the trees looking for its attacker. It spotted Holly, balanced deftly on a tree branch with her bow, just in time for the girl to shoot out another eye.

  Dogbreath charged screaming out from his hiding spot, axe raised over his head. He dashed in close and swung his axe at the creature’s head. The blade hammered across its snout, severing off one mandible and breaking several teeth. Dogbreath jumped out of the creature’s reach as it lashed out at him. With both its front eyes blinded, it could only try to see out of the eyes on the sides of its head. This kept it confused long enough for Holly to shoot it again.

  The two Hounds kept up the attack this way, with Holly firing at it from a safe distance, and Dogbreath circling around it, continually hacking at it with his axe. When it finally regained enough sense to try and run, Dogbreath cut at its legs, and felled it. Once on the ground, he hacked at its head over and over until it was dead. Then he hacked at it some more, until he was certain it was not coming back. Then a couple more times, just beca
use.

  Brant meanwhile ran screaming through the forest, the other creature rapidly gaining on him. When it was close enough, it pounced at him, soaring through the air, claws outstretched. Moments from impact, it slammed straight into the invisible barrier that formed before it in mid-air. There was a flash of green, and the crunch of bone, and the creature dropped to the ground, stunned.

  As its vision cleared, Serrel and Caellix stepped out of hiding. Caellix pulled back her bow and aimed at the creature’s head, as Serrel dispelled the first shield he had raised, and formed a new one, right over the prone creature. He formed it so that its body was trapped inside a dome shaped barrier, but that its head was outside, letting the shield shape itself around the creature’s neck, much like it had done with Caellix’s spear days earlier out at sea.

  The creature, realising what had happened, thrashed violently in its restraints. Serrel shrunk the shield as small as he could, preventing as much movement as possible, but the creature fought him all the way, threatening to lift the shield and itself off the ground several times. It took all of Serrel’s willpower to keep it in place, and he was burning energy fast.

  “This isn’t easy, Sergeant,” he pointed out.

  Caellix ignored him, and waited with her bow still aimed unwaveringly at the creature’s head. She watched it struggle to throw off its prison, to shift its legs enough to gain purchase on the ground. She just waited, her face blank, her breath held, for the moment.

  The creature looked at her, threw back its head and roared furiously. Caellix released the arrow. Her aim perfect, it flew through the air and stabbed straight into the creature’s mouth and through into its skull. Its roar cut off in midstream, and for a second it stared with an expression that seemed almost surprised. Then it went limp, and collapsed, its head held aloft only by Serrel’s shield.

  He dispelled it, and dropped the body to the ground. They watched it for any signs of life, but it stayed motionless. To be sure, Serrel used some of his remaining energy, and shot the creature in the head with a bolt of energy. The corpse twitched, but it didn’t otherwise move.