The Gift of Dark Hollow

by Kieran Larwood

  ‘Hello, Podkin,’ she said, and then sighed. She obviously knew this difficult conversation had been coming.

  Podkin knew she knew, and probably she also knew how it would finish, which made the whole thing very tricky. He wasn’t sure whether to start at the beginning, end or middle.

  ‘Look,’ he said. ‘Are you sure that—’

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘And there’s no other—’

  ‘No, there isn’t.’

  ‘But I don’t—’

  ‘Understand?’ Brigid put a hand on his shoulder and lowered her head until it was almost touching his. ‘Nobody understands, Podkin. Least of all me. I know it’s crazy to be sending you and Paz. I know what terrible things could happen to you both, and that it would be my fault if they did. But every art I have says the same thing, my dear: the bones, the cards, the tea leaves – my dreams, even. They all show me that the hammer will be lost unless you go to find it. I’ve known this since before I met you. Since before you were born.’

  Podkin felt his stomach churning. He’d known she was going to say something like this, but a small part of him had hoped she would change her mind. ‘Can you see whether we’ll be safe?’ he asked. Brigid shook her head.

  ‘I’m sorry, Podkin dear. I don’t know if either of you will come back, or even if you’ll find the hammer. All I know is what will happen if you don’t try. It will be the end for all of us, that’s for certain. When you look at it like that, sending you out there is actually safer than keeping you here, as dangerous as it might seem. Do you see?’

  ‘I see,’ said Podkin, although he really didn’t.

  Brigid had a way of looking so deeply into your eyes, it seemed as though she was reading the contents of your brain. ‘You want to be an important rabbit, don’t you, Podkin?’ He nodded. ‘A great rabbit like your father? A vital part of our warren here?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘More than anything.’

  ‘Well, you’re already well on your way. Your father would be so proud of the things you’ve done. And I know this task we are asking is hard. I know everything that has happened to you before is telling your brain to run away from the Gorm, not towards them.’

  Podkin gulped.

  ‘I didn’t know your father, but I know what he would have been feeling every time he had to make a hard decision or stand up to fight for something. He would have felt scared, just like you do now. But he did those things anyway, didn’t he?’

  Podkin thought of his father, standing up to Scramashank on the night the Gorm invaded his warren. He realised that, until now, he hadn’t imagined how his father would have felt, knowing that he probably wasn’t going to survive. It made him feel a bit ashamed for being so cowardly.

  Brigid continued. ‘You’re not being cowardly, Podkin.’ (How did she do that?) ‘You’re just feeling the same way any little rabbit would. Goddess knows, after the things you’ve been through … If you really don’t want to find the hammer, we’ll all understand. But if you do, then you would be helping all of us. Me, Crom, your mother and aunt. All of the Five Realms.’

  When she put it like that, how could he refuse? Be like your father, he told himself. Put your fears aside. He gave Brigid a hug and then went to help Paz pack their bags.

  ‘What were you talking to Brigid about?’ his sister asked him.

  ‘Going on this mission,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a feeling the old witch just played me like a bard plays a harp.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Paz whispered. ‘I think we’ll be safe. Look what Brigid gave me to help us.’

  She opened a fold of her tunic to show him Brigid’s magic sickle. The witch-rabbit had entrusted Paz with the sacred Gift of Redwater warren. Podkin’s eyes went wide.

  ‘She let you have that?’

  ‘I’m just borrowing it,’ said Paz. ‘Brigid said I was supposed to have it. She even told me its true name – Ailfew.’

  Suddenly, Podkin remembered the brooch. In all the excitement, he had forgotten to tell Paz about it. He could do better than telling her, though … it was dusk now – the moon might be up outside the warren.

  ‘Come with me,’ he said, grabbing Paz’s paw.

  ‘What? Where? We’re supposed to be packing our supplies!’ Despite moaning, Paz allowed herself to be dragged across the longburrow, towards the entrance tunnel.

  ‘I’ve got something to show you,’ said Podkin, grinning. ‘Something amazing.’

  They were just heading down the tunnel when Brigid stopped them. Podkin thought she was going to tell them to carry on packing, but instead she handed him a dusty old scroll. ‘Get your sister to read this to you,’ she said, with one of her knowing smiles. Podkin now knew a mysterious clue when he saw one. He took the scroll and rolled his eyes.

  ‘Thanks, Brigid,’ he said. The two little rabbits ran past the old healer and out through the tunnel, into the forest beyond.

  *

  Podkin was pleased to see that the moon was indeed out. He dashed through the trees with Paz close behind, zigging and zagging through the gathering shadows until he reached the graveyard clearing and the puddle of shadow at the foot of the old aspen.

  ‘This had better be good, Pod,’ said Paz when she caught up with him. She was out of breath, but clearly intrigued by how excited her little brother was.

  ‘Look at me,’ said Podkin, checking to see the moon was still visible in the patch of sky above. ‘Look at me very closely.’

  ‘Do I have to?’ Paz answered, and was about to stick her tongue out at him when Podkin vanished. A small rush of air and he was gone.

  ‘Pod?’ Paz waved a paw through the space where he had been a second ago. ‘Podkin! Where are you?’

  ‘Over here!’ Podkin was watching her from the bramble bush he had hidden in before. The shadows were so deep, Paz had no idea he was there. He couldn’t help but giggle.

  ‘This isn’t funny, Podkin! Where in the Goddess’s name are you?’

  Now Podkin focused on the shadow Paz was casting herself. He felt the tingling power of Moonfyre, willed himself to be there and … swish!

  ‘Whiskers!’ Paz screamed and jumped clear off the ground as Podkin blinked into existence right beside her. It was so funny, he fell on the ground laughing and couldn’t get up for a good five minutes.

  Paz stood watching him, hands on her hips. ‘Have you quite finished? It wasn’t that funny.’

  ‘Oh, it definitely was,’ said Podkin, getting up and brushing the pine needles from his jerkin.

  ‘Was that the moon brooch?’ Paz asked. ‘Is that its power?’

  ‘It is,’ said Podkin. ‘You can jump from shadow to shadow, as long as the moon’s out. That’s how I heard Sorrel and Tansy last night.’

  Paz stared at him, wide-eyed. ‘You were right,’ she said. ‘It is amazing.’

  A sudden thought came to Podkin. Would he be able to jump along with someone else? It was worth a try, he supposed.

  ‘Give me your paw.’

  ‘Why?’ Paz’s ears twitched and she edged away.

  ‘I want to see if you can jump with me. Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt or anything.’

  ‘I don’t think we sh—’ Paz began, but Podkin snatched hold of her arm before she could finish and aimed his mind at the bramble bush again. There was the familiar lurch – a bit stronger this time – and then he was inside the cave of branches and thorns once more, Paz crouching beside him.

  ‘Podkin!’ She punched him on the arm. ‘You ferret-face! I was about to say it might not be safe! We could have ended up in the middle of a tree trunk or something!’

  Podkin rubbed his arm and scowled at her. ‘We didn’t though, did we? Besides, I don’t think it lets you jump into anything. See how the brambles are all pushed out of our way?’

  ‘Not quite,’ said Paz, squirming away from the thorns that were jabbing her bottom. But she did see what Podkin meant. Their bodies had pushed all the roots and brambles aside; otherwise they would have been thr
eaded through with them.

  ‘It’s good though, isn’t it?’ Podkin said. ‘Just think of the things we can do with this.’

  ‘As long as the moon’s out,’ Paz reminded him. They sat in their little cave of thorns and looked at the dark forest. Where it had seemed creepy the night before, Podkin now felt peaceful and at home. Maybe because he knew he had to leave and there was a good chance he may never come back.

  They watched together as the trees slowly vanished in darkness, how the shadows spread out from beneath the trunks to merge and meld, like blots of ink on wet paper.

  ‘Have you got that scroll Brigid gave you?’ Paz asked, breaking the silence. Podkin handed it to her, and she unravelled it, holding it so a ray of moonlight shone through the thorns and on to the crumbling parchment.

  ‘What does it say?’

  ‘It’s that scroll about Shade the Cursed that Brigid told me to read before,’ said Paz. ‘She must have known I didn’t look at it properly.’

  ‘She knows blooming everything,’ said Podkin. He nudged Paz gently in the ribs, urging her to read.

  ‘“Many moons ago a rabbit called Shade became the chieftain of Dark Hollow”,’ Paz began. ‘“The warren there was ancient, one of the first Twelve, and had been granted a Gift by the Goddess: a brooch that let the wearer dance through the moonlight.

  ‘“The Dark Hollow rabbits were children of the Goddess, but they also loved the forest and its lord: Hern the Hunter. Like him, they took great pride in their hunting skills, and would bring down fierce creatures such as wolves and bears as tests of their ability.

  ‘“In Shade’s time, the young rabbits of the warren had become more and more fanatic about their hunting. They had begun to live only for the thrill of killing the biggest and most savage prey. They had forgotten the ways of rabbits, and how we always try to live in balance with the world around us.

  ‘“As a result, they were destroying the wildlife of the forest. Whole packs of wolves had been wiped out, whole families of bears destroyed. Shade was horrified, and warned his tribesmen about what they were doing, begging them to stop and change their ways.

  ‘“They didn’t listen. The young bucks and does would head out hunting every day, even when there were rooms full of skins for tanning and sewing, and the whole floor of the longburrow was covered in furs. No matter what Shade threatened them with, they wouldn’t stop. Perhaps they couldn’t.

  ‘“Finally, Shade was forced to commit a terrible act. He knew how proud the Dark Hollow rabbits were of their history – that they were one of the first tribes. One day he called them all to the longburrow and told them what he had done.

  ‘“Because he believed they were no longer fit for the Goddess’s blessing, he had taken Moonfyre, the tribe’s Gift, and cast it into the deepest part of the forest, where it would never be found. The tribe was no longer blessed, instead it was shamed, matching the actions of its children.

  ‘“The Dark Hollow rabbits were furious. They planned to strip Shade of his chieftainship, to cast him out or even kill him. But when they looked for him the next day, he was nowhere to be found. He had left behind his crown and sword and disappeared into the forest.”’

  Podkin stared at the brooch in his hand. ‘Except he didn’t really cast it away, did he? He buried it in his room, for us to find all those years later.’

  ‘It would seem so,’ said Paz.

  ‘Do you think he was told to do it?’ Podkin asked. ‘Like it was all some kind of plan?’

  ‘You mean so that we could find it now?’ Paz flicked her ears. ‘Who knows, Podkin. You’ll have to ask Brigid that one.’

  ‘Does it say what happened to Shade? After he left, I mean?’

  Paz shook her head. ‘That’s it. The brooch was lost, and now it’s found.’

  ‘“The curse is broken”,’ Podkin turned Moonfyre over and over in his paw. ‘That’s what Crom said.’

  ‘Good. Who wants to live in a cursed warren?’ Paz tugged at Podkin’s cloak. ‘Come on. We’d better get back. It’ll be time to leave soon.’

  A part of Podkin was tempted to stay in the bramble den, hiding away from the Gorm-filled world outside. But he knew he couldn’t. I hope the Goddess does have a plan, he thought, getting ready to jump back into the clearing with Paz. And I hope it’s a good one.

  *

  They left later that evening, as soon as it was fully dark. Somebody remembered it was Lupen’s Day, and the official start of spring. There were no feasts or games, or even a Green Rabbit to chase, like there had been at Munbury in the old, happy days. Just a simple dinner of dandelion leaf salad and acorn bread, and a sad farewell from the rabbits they were leaving behind.

  Mish had tears in her eyes, so did Brigid. Pook was nowhere to be found, even though they searched the whole warren. Paz assumed he had gone off in a sulk, and Brigid promised she would find him. Podkin wanted to at least say goodbye to him, but Crom was insisting they leave now, in order to get as far as they could before daybreak. They gave the longburrow a quick search, but didn’t have time for anything else. It made it all the harder to walk out of the door and into the unknown.

  Finally, they waved goodbye and headed out into the forest. They were dressed in leather armour, with cloaks and packs all dyed black, so they would blend into the darkness. The plan was to travel at night, and camp during the day, in the hope of avoiding being seen. Podkin remembered all too well the Gorm’s crow servants: evil, iron-warped flapping things that spied for their masters. Hopefully they couldn’t see in the dark.

  It was pitch black as they marched north through the forest. Crom led the way, his fingers seeking out the markings Mish and her scouts had carved into the tree trunks. Without him to guide them they would have been lost within moments, but to Crom the forest was no different, night or day. He took them out amongst the network of narrow paths, further away from Dark Hollow than they had been in months. The other times Podkin had travelled this way, there had been snow shrouding branches and laying in thick marshmallow drifts up against the trees. It had given the place a ghostly glow, softened everything into curves of white and silver.

  Now the snow had gone, and the woods were all shades of night – jagged trunks and twisting roots. They walked through pines and spruces at first: trunks crowded together, low branches of scratchy needles that brushed at their ears and faces. It was impossible to see much of the path. They tripped and stumbled their way, kicking up clods of spongy earth and fallen pine cones. The sharp, fresh smell of pine sap filled Podkin’s nose. It was a good, clean smell, and he might have actually enjoyed this strange night-time stroll, if it wasn’t for his imagination creating shapes of Gorm soldiers hiding behind every trunk.

  They walked in silence, the only sounds were their breathing and the occasional clink of metal buckles as their packs bounced on their backs. Crom and Tansy used their spears as walking staves, while Mash skipped between the trees as if he could see in the dark. Podkin stayed close to Paz, one hand on Starclaw’s hilt, the other softly brushing the edge of her cape, just to make sure she was there.

  ‘Hern’s antlers, these packs are heavy,’ Crom muttered as they paused by the jagged trunk of a huge Scots pine. Tansy grunted in agreement, but that was all the conversation they had. Podkin was scared of making any noise, just in case there was a Gorm crow sitting in a tree nearby. Besides, his pack didn’t seem too bad. It only had a water bottle, some acorn bread and a blanket inside. He didn’t fancy being lumbered with any more, just to help out.

  The scent of the forest changed as they went further north. The pine slowly vanished, replaced by gentler, loamy smells of other trees: oak, beech, hazel. These trunks weren’t so close together, their branches higher, and Podkin didn’t get whacked in the face by twigs quite so much. He looked up, trying to see the moon in the sky, but there must have been thick cloud covering everything now. Not even a star to be seen. Shame, he thought. I wanted to show Crom how Moonfyre worked. But then, he wouldn’t be able
to see it anyway. Podkin felt a little cheated, until he realised that it was much worse for poor Crom, unable to share or join in with so much.

  Hours later, when it felt like they had been walking forever, Crom brushed his fingers across one last tree and halted, making Podkin and Paz walk into the back of him. He pointed to the carved mark he had found, and turned to Mash. ‘This is the rune for ending. Is that the edge of the forest?’

  Podkin couldn’t see anything but the shadows of trees, although the fact he could see anything at all meant it must be getting lighter.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mash. ‘I think we’re near Boneroot. Or at least, where Boneroot was.’

  There was nothing left of the underground cavern where they’d met Crom. Just a gaping hole, thanks to the Gorm. Podkin remembered the evil rabbits, Shape and Quince, who had captured them there, and the flames and screaming when they had run for their lives. He had absolutely no desire to see that place again, empty hole or not.

  ‘We camp here,’ said Crom. ‘We’ll leave the forest tomorrow evening.’

  Podkin had never heard such wonderful words. He wanted to collapse right there, but Mash put him to work, using Starclaw to cut branches from the trees. Tansy and Paz tied them together with vines to make two lean-to shelters up against the trunks of neighbouring oaks. They shovelled piles of dead leaves and rotten braches up against the outside to hide them, and then climbed in for a quick meal of acorn bread and some wilted dandelion leaves from Tansy’s backpack.

  ‘Tomorrow we’ll forage for some fresh food,’ Mash said, his mouth full of stale crumbs. ‘Some watercress or mustard. Wild garlic shoots, maybe.’

  ‘Thank the Goddess it’s spring,’ said Paz. ‘I’m so sick of acorn bread.’

  Podkin’s stomach rumbled in agreement, and he tried to enjoy the thought of fresh, crunchy green salad, but his eyes were already closing. As the forest woke up to a misty dawn, he was fast asleep, snoring quietly in his nest of blankets.