by Emma Hamm
Besides, he wasn’t speaking to any humans. She would have heard of someone finding a monster in the woods, wouldn’t she? If anyone had, it was her father. Nothing happened in the kingdom without the king knowing.
What had the beast called himself? The Dread?
Such a strange word.
Before she even realized she was speaking, Danielle blurted out, “Father, have you heard of the Dread?”
What little sound filled the room, silenced.
Danielle looked up from her plate to see her father staring at her with a storm in his eyes. His fingers curled around the knife in his hand and the metal bent under the weight of his grip.
Diana watched at her with wide eyes. She mouthed the word, “No,” before their father stood.
“What did you just say?” he asked.
She should keep her mouth shut. The question was dangerous, and yet she continued, “I asked if you knew what the Dread were.”
“Where did you hear that word?”
A single word would ruin her life forever. She couldn’t tell her father a Dread had been in the forest. She wasn’t supposed to be in the forest.
All her freedom would be lost. And she would die under the weight of chains binding her to this palace.
Eyes darting to the side, she stared at Milo as though he could help. Instead, all he did was press a hand against his corset. He gulped in thick lungfuls of air.
Melissa ducked her head and curled up in her chair, hands pressed against her ears.
What had Danielle done?
Sweat slicked her palms. She wiped them against her dress and hoped staying silent would be her savior.
Instead, her father repeated his words. This time, with a blade sharp edge. “Where did you hear that word?”
Her leg bounced underneath the table. She could taste metal on her tongue, but didn’t remember biting her lip. Breathing out a ragged breath, she shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“We don’t tolerate lies in this palace.”
“It must have been one of the guards-”
“Danielle!” His voice cracked, striking like a whip.
To her greatest embarrassment, her bottom lip quivered. Shaking, she dropped the utensils in her hands accidently. They struck her plate and shattered the delicate porcelain.
She remembered what her father had done to Diana. Whip marks like a pattern of lace on her skin. Melissa’s tongue sitting on the table next to her while the healer tried to stop her sister from drowning in her own blood. And Milo… Milo slipping into her room late at night whispering that he’d drank something and couldn’t remember anything at all.
He was a bad man, her father. An evil man.
And evil men saw right through false bravado to the little girl cowering underneath her skin.
“Danielle,” he repeated. When she didn’t reply, he snarled, “Go to your room, daughter. You will not eat or drink until you tell me where you heard that cursed word.”
Danielle fled to her room. Shadows followed her every step, monsters in the shape of her own father.
Chapter 7
Danielle huddled underneath the blankets. She’d lowered them from over her head a while ago, but somehow, she still didn’t feel safe.
She stared at the door as if her father would storm through it at any moment. He liked to leave his victims in suspense. She’d seen him do it countless times to her siblings and even to herself.
The King of Hollow Hill knew how to play with the minds of men and women. He’d been raised on a poisonous mixture of charisma and a disconnect from emotion.
Did he love his children?
Danielle wasn’t sure. He didn’t love his wife, whom he’d locked away for years in that dark, smoke filled room. She wasn’t certain he was capable of love. And if he was, it wasn’t the love she knew existed.
The king loved his people, that much was for certain. Hollow Hill was his pride and joy, far more than Danielle or her siblings.
The people of their kingdom were spoiled. They didn’t know what hardship was because her father gave them all his love and none of the evil brewing inside him. Instead, he channeled all that pain to his own children. In a way, he was a dark magician.
He turned a kingdom wealthy while trading the happiness of his own family.
The door handle twisted on its hinges. Inch by inch. Her eyes widened with every heartbeat that passed and she shrank further into her blankets.
So he would come at night. He would sneak into her room like a thief and do gods knows what.
The door eased open on silent hinges, but it was not the blocky form of her father which slipped through the crack. Instead, it was a broad form, muscular arms, and bare shoulders with a lacy pattern of scars.
“Diana?” Danielle whispered. “What are you doing here?”
Diana’s white nightgown billowed, illuminated by moonlight filtering through the window. She approached the side of Danielle’s bed and slipped beneath the covers, providing a barrier between Danielle and the door. All the while, she said nothing. The next General of Hollow Hill’s great armies, a guardian between the nightmares beyond her door.
“Diana?” Danielle asked again. “What are you doing here?”
It took a few moments for her sister to speak. Diana took her time getting comfortable underneath the covers. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared up at the ceiling, taking in slow, deep breaths.
Finally, her sister replied, “Do you remember finding me in the dungeon?”
The memory was branded upon Danielle’s psyche. “I do.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong. I just listened to what father wanted, but reminded him he’d changed his mind the day before. I was doing what any good general would do. Remind the king of a better idea he himself came up with.”
Danielle turned onto her back as well and joined her sister staring at the ceiling. “I remember thinking you must have been in so much pain.”
“I was.”
“And I remember thinking if I was a better big sister, I could have prevented it from happening.”
The pillow crinkled as Diana shook her head. “You couldn’t have stopped it if you tried. Father knew he wanted to punish me before I corrected him. He was just waiting for the right moment.”
She bore so much guilt her sister would never understand. Danielle was the heir who would inherit everything. Their father ensured she bore no physical marks, when it didn’t matter if her siblings did. They had taken the brunt of the physical abuse, whereas she… she had absorbed the emotional.
Her sister had wanted nothing more than to be free when they were little. She had been just as wild as Danielle until her father had taken one look at her and said she would be the general of the armies. Then, she had gone into schooling and all her light had faded.
Even now, Danielle wished she could feel the warmth her sister once radiated.
Diana cleared her throat. “You know there was nothing you could have done.”
“I could have unchained you.”
“And you would have joined me. I know you did what you had to do.”
Danielle had been cowardly. And she still was. Their father terrified her. He made her heart stop beating and tears well in her eyes just by looking at her in disappointment.
She knew fear because of her father. But she knew disappointment because of her own actions.
Hot tears welled in her eyes, falling down the opposite cheek so her sister couldn’t see her weeping. “I could have done so much more.”
Diana shifted her hand on top of the coverlet and her pinky grazed Danielle’s. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to remind her she wasn’t alone.
“Danielle-” Diana started before clearing her throat again. “Danielle, I won’t let him get you tonight.”
“You can’t stop him.”
“I can. I can always take your punishment for you.”
Danielle shook her head. Every muscle in her body locked at the thought of
Diana’s pain. “I won’t let you do that. Not for me.”
“We are all locked in a prison, Danielle. Don’t you see that? Our jailer will punish me no matter what I do. I already bear the scars, and I will bear more no matter if I gain them from you or others.” Diana shifted her head on the pillow and looked over at Danielle. Her younger sister now seemed so much older. “I don’t care if it hurts. But you do.”
This. This was why she needed to learn how to fight.
Because she didn’t want her sister to hurt anymore. She didn’t want Milo to be afraid to sleep alone, or Melissa to whimper every night because she couldn’t talk.
She wanted to save her family, and she didn’t know how.
If there was any question in her mind about the beast, now there was none. Perhaps she could learn how to enact her revenge on the creature. Then, she would return home and turn her gaze to the real monster.
The one who haunted her family’s steps.
She reached out and grasped her sister’s hand. Lacing their fingers together, she squeezed hard. “Together, then. If he even comes tonight.”
They remained in silence for a few moments. Heartbeats where she felt closer to her sister than she had in years.
Then Diana asked a question which made her heart still. “Danielle, why did you ask about the Dread?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “You know what they are, don’t you?”
Diana didn’t say a word for a long time. Then, she took a deep breath and replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I only know it made father angry.”
“So you do know what they are.”
Her sister shook her head. “I can’t tell you anything, Danielle. You shouldn’t have asked father about them at all.”
She wanted to keep her mouth shut. Her sister had become a liar. But they were holding hands, like they used to do when they were little girls. She finally felt as though Diana was listening to her. As though Diana cared what Danielle had to think, and damn it. She had her sister back when she had thought Diana was lost to her forever.
Danielle chose her words carefully. For all her sister wanted to protect her, she could very well be her father’s puppet. Diana might be the leader of the armies, but she was also the daughter who had been beaten within an inch of her life many times.
Licking her lips, Danielle turned to stare back at the ceiling. “Do you think mother is mad?”
“Is she the one who told you about them?”
“Mother always rants about beasts in the forest,” she whispered. “Even you have heard her speak of them before.”
“She’s never called them by name.”
Danielle shook her head. “Does she even know they have a name?”
The long moments between Danielle’s question and her sister’s answer spoke volumes.
Not only did Diana know what the Dread were, she knew more than she was letting on. “Mother has a weak mind,” Diana finally replied. “We have to let her go knowing that we cannot help her.”
“I don’t know if that’s true anymore.”
Diana squeezed her hand and scooted closer. “Where did you hear about the Dread, Danielle? It wasn’t Mother. We both know even the suggestion of such is a lie.”
Her heart was torn. This was her sister. Her little sister who had danced through ballrooms with her when they were children and who’d slept in the same bed while they grew.
Even now, when they were old enough to live in separate rooms, she was here. She was the only one here.
But Danielle didn’t want this to get back to her father. She wouldn’t survive being locked away in a smoke filled room with no light or fresh air. She would rot in that room like her mother had until there was nothing but madness left in her soul.
Danielle wanted to tell the truth. She wanted Diana to know everything, but she also knew how she sounded.
The queen was mad because she believed in monsters. Danielle now understood they were real. Her sister knew they were real as well, but she was not labeled as mad. The dualities only made her stomach twist and turn.
Something was very wrong, festering in the heart of her family.
Danielle opened her mouth, a lie ready to slip from her tongue, although she didn’t know what the lie was.
But then she heard something out her window. Like the scratching of claws on stone.
She turned to look just as a black shadow crossed the window. It was too large to be a bat, although she could see there were wings. It wasn’t possible. She was nearly ten stories up in her tower.
Yet…
Diana stiffened beside her. She squeezed Danielle’s hand so hard the bones creaked and she feared they would shatter. Callouses scraped her soft palms.
“Ah,” her sister whispered. “So that’s how you know what they are.”
It appeared the Dread had taken her secret into their own hands. Danielle didn’t know how the creature knew where she was, but she had a sneaking suspicion their second meeting wasn’t by happenstance.
“Diana, I don’t know how to tell you what happened.”
“You’ll stay in the palace from now on,” her sister interrupted. “You’ve been able to leave for so long, I think father has forgotten there are beasts in the wood.”
“This is not a prison.”
“Did you not hear me, sister?” Diana leaned up and loomed over her in bed. Her sister’s expression was hard as iron. “The Dread are dangerous creatures. You should not even know they exist, but you are too naïve to understand. There is a war in Hollow Hill. One we have fought for centuries. The Dread are monsters. Nothing more, nothing less. You will stay inside now that they have caught your scent.”
Danielle wanted to argue. They couldn’t be monsters if one had offered to train her to fight, no matter that he’d tried to kill her. If they were in a war, that explained his actions.
But she didn’t want to fight with her sister as well as her father. She wanted all of this to go away so their lives could go back to normal.
Their normal, however, wasn’t a good life. If her sister wanted her to stay away from the Dread, then she would do the opposite simply because she couldn’t continue living this way.
Danielle didn’t tell Diana any of her thoughts. Instead, she nodded. “I’ll stay safe inside the castle.”
“Good. You’re the heir to the throne, Danielle. You have responsibilities.” Diana laid back down and closed her eyes.
“I know I do,” Danielle whispered. Imaginary chains tightened around her throat.
Chapter 8
The Emperor of the Dread crawled through the earth. He tunneled deeper into the caverns of Hollow Hill where his people awaited him. Wings flat against his back, he pressed his belly into the dirt and slid through roots and muck.
He had a story to tell. And his people dearly loved stories.
Far beneath Hollow Hill, a kingdom awaited him. The Emperor pulled himself from the tunnel and into the caverns with a low hiss. He dropped onto the slick stone in a crouch, fist pressed against the fissured granite and black marble.
He snapped his wings open and dirt fell from them like rain. He strode toward the edge of the outcropping he stood upon. Toes at the edge, he stared down into the great crater where his people lived.
Hundreds of Dread made their homes in the sides of the cavern. They dug deep caves into the earth. Lanterns hung from the slick walls, some guttering as tiny droplets of water struck their flames.
Two Dread ran toward the abyss in the center, leaping into the air and spreading their wings wide. They glided together, hands clasped.
The sound of bats echoed all around. Clicks and clacks mimicked by his people, then the burble of laughter as a female Dread raced after her tiny child. The daughter’s wings were too small to carry her in the air but she was desperate to leap off the edge as she’d seen others do.
Woven doors made of reeds covered a few of the caves. But most of his people worked on the cliff edges where they lived. T
hough it was wet and cold here, they had made a life out of darkness.
Now they would seek their revenge.
The Emperor inhaled musky earth and dripping water. Mold and algae grew on the sides on the walls, a scent he would never forget no matter how old he was.
Spreading his wings wide, he stretched out his hands and opened his mouth to let out a roar of rage and anger and retribution.
The sound of his anguish spread throughout the cavern. The cry echoed as it bounced against the walls and tunneled deep into the abyss where his people had lived for centuries.
He listened to the call long after he had closed his mouth. His fangs dug into his lips and the metallic taste of blood flooded his mouth. The sound of his rage continued on as though a hundred warriors cried out in anger.
The last echo screamed and then died.
Silence took its place. The bone deep silence which could only be found deep in the graves of the earth. In the heart of their mother who had given them life and who would take it back someday.
He stared down into the abyss and saw all his people staring up at him. They came out of their caves, shifting aside the doors and propping them against the walls. Some lit more lanterns, holding them high, so a red glow illuminated his figure.
“My people, we are to have a visitor soon. A princess of Hollow Hill.” He inhaled their gasps of surprise. “We will welcome her to our home.”
A few hushed whispers spiraled up the cavern of their home, along with a few outraged words of confusion.
A human? Here? Why would they ever welcome a human to their home after all they had done?
Two of the Dread opened their wings and plummeted into the darkness. He waited patiently for them to catch an updraft of wind. First the male, then the female shot up in the air before him, allowing themselves to fall onto the cliff where he stood.
The male was his closest advisor. Blacksmith was a good Dread, but one who had seen much fighting. Three scars stretched from his right shoulder across his pectoral. One of his wings was pale gray, the other pitch black. He stared at the Emperor with a dark expression, worry warring with anger.