by Emma Hamm
Lanterns swung from hooks buried in the sides of stone walls. Woven baskets hung on hemp ropes, filled with vegetables and fruits she didn’t recognize. Their pale skins suggested neither saw the light of day.
The Dread stood on a ledge at least ten feet below her, his lavender wings spread wide. Danielle sank her hands into the earth as she watched him step forward to the very edge. His toes hung over the lip.
A wind howled from deep in the hollow, but it didn’t sound like the haunting tune of a cold winter’s night. It sounded like a mother singing to her child. Like the long, feathered edge of a lullaby.
She sighed. Flowers and lichen grew from crevices in the walls, each glowing with an internal light.
She’d never seen a place like this before.
The Dread turned and reached his arms up for her. “Princess?”
Danielle tried to close her mouth, but she stared agape at everything before them. Baskets. Food. There must be homes here as well, an entire kingdom she hadn’t known existed. Right beneath her feet?
“What is this place?” she asked, rooted to the mud in the tunnel.
“We call it the Hollows.”
A blast of wind pushed her back into the tunnel and she stared in amazement at three Dread who whirled in the air. They were lit by the candles, glowing red outlining the membranes of their wings.
Long black hair floated in the surrounding air, lifted by their laughter and teasing words. She could understand them. They spoke the common tongue, same as she did.
Her eyes weren’t big enough to soak it all in. Danielle had a million questions all on the tip of her tongue but the Dread below her cleared his throat.
“Princess,” this time, the word had a hard edge. “Come.”
She released each one of her fingers, bit by bit, until she finally lowered herself from the tunnel and toward the ledge. The Dread would catch her, or she would fall on hard stone. He wouldn’t let her plummet off the edge into darkness.
“Please catch me,” she whispered.
Danielle released her hold on the tunnel lip and fell. She bit her tongue so hard it bled, but she refused to release a shriek of fear.
With a thud, she landed in the Dread’s arms. His thick biceps were like tree trunks around her, wedged so she couldn’t move at all. Danielle drew in a deep breath of surprise, but all she could smell was him.
Earth and loam, woods and forest springs. He smelled like something wild.
Something free.
Danielle’s breath grew ragged, and she stared up at him in surprise. She could still feel the phantom touch of his hands around her neck, squeezing tight. And yet, he’d said there was a reason for it. That she was human, and that meant…
She didn’t know what being human meant. Something had happened to him, she guessed. The scars, the horn, the rage, it all told a story she didn’t understand. Pages were missing.
Or entire books. Entire histories no one had ever thought to teach her.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“For what?”
“For catching me.”
The Dread lifted a brow, but his expression was softer than she’d seen before. Perhaps even kind. “You don’t have wings, princess. One wrong step here and you’ll fall deeper than you’d ever dreamed possible.”
Oh, but if only she had wings.
Another burst of wind pushed her hair from her face and she watched two more of the Dread. These were older than the first, their wings impressively long and their bodies hard from labor. They didn’t look at her. Instead, they stared at each other as though there was no one else who existed.
Danielle had thought she would see these creatures as animals. But upon first sight, she saw them as people. Lovers. Children. Families who should have lived in harmony with her own.
He let her slip from his arms, steadying her on the uneven ledge of stone.
“Why have I not heard of the Dread before?” she asked, gazing upon a hundred of twinkling lights. “Do you only live in the Hollows?”
The mere thought made her sad. These people were beautiful. To think these were the last? It nearly broke her heart.
“No,” the Dread replied. “We are not the only Dread, but our brethren differ greatly from us. The Dread mimic their king. Some are farmers, some are warriors, some are blind with rage or greed.”
“So every kingdom is different?”
“The Dread of Hollow Hill want nothing more than seclusion. We follow the desires of our leaders.” His face smoothed of all expression, as if he really were carved of stone. “Much like humans.”
She could attest to that. Danielle had met many foreign dignitaries and hadn’t liked most of them. Their ways were so different from the delicate life of Hollow Hill. Even Omra, the most intelligent of their neighboring kingdoms, made her ears bleed with their harsh words and jabbing ploys.
Danielle could accept that the Dread were very different as well. “Who is this king, then? Shall I meet him?”
The Dread beside her chuckled. “Perhaps someday, you’ll meet him. Although they don’t call him a king.”
“What do they call him then?”
“An Emperor.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Rather ostentatious, don’t you think? The words still mean the same. Leader. Ruler. The man in power.”
“Or woman?”
“Perhaps,” she replied, shrugging. “Although a female ruler is rather unheard of in other kingdoms.”
Danielle took another step forward, testing her vertigo. Standing so close to a tunnel deep into the earth made her head spin. She stared down into the darkness and told herself nothing was moving there.
But… something was. Before she stepped back, a volley of air shoved her away from the edge. One of the Dread had shot up from the darkness and startled her. Danielle would have fallen onto her behind if the Dread hadn’t caught her arm.
Her heart pounded in her chest. It would beat out of the bones if she didn’t calm herself.
Frenzied laughter echoed through the cave system.
The Dread beside her reacted strangely. He still held onto her arm, but he squeezed it so tight she could feel his claws digging into the sensitive skin of her bicep.
She let out a soft gasp and reached up, placing her hand atop his. Carefully, Danielle slid her fingers underneath his. She worked to open his clawed hand, although he seemed to fight her for a moment before he finally let go.
Bruises would decorate her arm once again. More places for her to cover with makeup so no one at the palace could see them.
She forcibly relaxed the tense muscles of her shoulders and met his gaze. “Are you going to show me your home?”
“No,” the growled response wasn’t their usual bantering conversations. It was as if seeing the other Dread had turned him into someone else. Someone colder, and far more dangerous than before. “You are not here to be introduced to the Dread. You are here to learn how to fight.”
“Of course.” Danielle’s stomach sank.
She shouldn’t be surprised when he wanted to keep this land to himself. They mistrusted her people. She assumed for good reason, considering who her father was.
Still. She was disappointed.
Danielle nodded and stepped closer to the edge once again. “All right then. Where are we going?”
He didn’t respond. Danielle furrowed her brows and turned to look back at him, only to find a wicked grin on his face. Fangs poked up from his bottom jaw, eyes narrowed upon her, wings suddenly spread wide.
Her heart picked up pace again. “Dread?”
He launched himself at her. Claws outstretched, movement so quick she couldn’t even stumble away before he’d caught her in his arms and sent them careening over the edge.
Cold air tugged at her clothing and hair. Danielle threw her arms around his neck, staring up at the ledge they’d fallen from.
They plummeted toward the ground. She had only a few moments to catch tiny details of the kingdom fl
ying past her eyes. Colored candles on one house, with dripping wax creating patterns of flowers. Doors woven with such intricacy she could see patterns of winged beasts flying across their surface. The savory scent of cooking meat in the air.
She tangled her legs around the Dread’s waist. A scream stuck in her throat. She’d always thought, in the moment of her imminent death, that she would scream to the high heavens. But she was shocked and terrified into silence.
At the last moment, when she was certain they would strike the ground, the Dread opened his wings wide.
A sharp snap echoed in her ears just as her entire body jolted with the sudden force of stopping in mid air. She used every limb to hold on to the creature, but he had her. One strong arm surrounded her shoulders, and the other clamped down on one of her thighs.
Danielle snapped her eyes open. When had she squeezed them shut? She stared up at beautiful lavender wings. Each beat revealed pieces of his world. An open door with three baby Dread staring at her, round cheeks filled with something gooey and smudged all over their chins. Their eyes were round as dinner plates.
Another beat. She saw a weaver sitting on a ledge next to what must have been her home. The strands of her long, dark hair were braided. She held river reeds, dried and soaked in a basket next to her that leaked water down the stone.
The wings remained open then, and they glided down toward an unseen destination. She could still see peeks of the world through holes in his wings. The whistling sound of air rushed through them, but this time it sounded like a flute.
He flapped his wings a few times more, strong and powerful, before she felt his feet touch land again.
The Dread released his hold on her leg and shoulders. He lowered her to the ground then took a step away.
He bowed, but she could see the wicked glint in his eyes. “Your chariot, princess.”
“A fine chariot,” she replied, still breathless. “But perhaps next time you might warn me before we go on such a journey.”
“Ah, but where is the fun in that?”
She’d never anticipated the beast who had tried to drown her in a stream would be so… charming. And funny. He made her laugh while still terrifying her and that was a heady combination.
He didn’t see her as the princess to be preserved at all costs because their kingdom required a leader who was perfection personified.
Danielle hadn’t realized how intoxicating that could be. He went to her head like a fine wine. Made her drunk on his presence simply because he was otherworldly, wholly strange and wonderfully different.
The Dread snapped his wings close to his back, and she marveled at how much it looked like a cloak. “Come, princess.”
Danielle followed him into the cave which looked much like the others. The outside was slick with algae and running water. She’d never been in a cave before, but had seen them with her sister at the ocean once.
She could remember the cool air and the sound of waves rumbling in the distance. They’d been so careful clambering over the seaweed to get near the cave, but neither had dared step foot into the open maw of shadows.
Light filtered through the reed door at the entrance to this cave. She watched a shadow pass before it. Warm light, red and glowing like the rest of the caves. She wondered if that meant it would be warm within.
The Dread seemed made of stone. She wondered if they felt the cold the same way humans did.
Or if they felt cold at all.
Her Dread moved aside the door and tendrils of warm air reached for her. They coiled around her shoulders and pulled her deeper into the glowing red cave where she could iron her shivers away.
Danielle stepped into the cave and her eyes opened wide with wonder yet again. This was not a home, as she had thought, but a blacksmith. A great forge stood in the center, bellows heaving at its side. Smoke disappeared through a hole in the ceiling, going somewhere she couldn’t guess.
To her left, a wall of swords stood tall and proud. The sharp blades were a sight to behold, perfectly made and curved. She’d never seen swords like that before. They looked heavy and blunt, but still sharp enough to cleave a head from shoulders.
The glow of the forge reflected in their sharp edges. They were so polished, Danielle could see her own reflection in them.
Someone cleared their throat and she jumped.
A Dread stood behind the fires. Flames licked at his hands which were plunged into molten steel. He swirled them in the bath of liquid metal and stared at her with so much hatred she wondered how she didn’t burst into flame.
“Hello,” she said, dipping into a curtsey while berating herself at the same time. They probably didn’t know what a curtsey was, and she looked like a fool.
The Dread behind the forge didn’t reply. Instead, he looked toward the beast behind her and grumbled, “You brought her here?”
“Where else, Blacksmith?” Her Dread shifted, his wings opening and closing with each slow breath.
She looked back to the other Dread and saw this one’s wings didn’t match. One was dark, the other was pale. She hadn’t thought such a thing possible, but she didn’t know much about these people. She thought they might all look like her Dread, but instead, they were all so very different. At least it would make keeping track of them a little easier.
“Lord… Blacksmith.” Danielle pressed a hand against her chest, hoping she looked sincere. “It’s a great honor to meet you.”
The Dread froze, his hands still plunged into metal, then a slow smile spread across his face. Silver tipped fangs glinted in the light. “Lord Blacksmith? Aren’t you a noble little thing?”
Danielle frowned. “I-”
Her Dread stepped in immediately, clearing his throat before she could release her scathing retort. “I’m teaching her to fight, Blacksmith.”
“So she can kill one of us?”
“Perhaps.”
“Seems foolish.” Blacksmith shook his head. He popped a bubble forming in the metal. “Humans never had a hard time killing us before. No need to teach them how to do it better.”
Her Dread bristled at the tone. She’d seen such a look in his eye before, and only when his hands were wrapped around her throat. For some strange reason, she felt the desperate need to distract the two Dread before they came to blows.
Moving away from the wall, she cleared her throat and stepped between them. She directed her question toward her Dread. “Lord Blacksmith has a name. I’m afraid you’ve never told me yours.”
“You’ve never asked,” her Dread replied.
“I’m asking now.”
Again, laughter echoed from behind her. Danielle turned to look at Blacksmith, who had finally pulled his hands from the metal. “That’s because he doesn’t have a name, princess.”
“You know I’m a princess?” She shook herself. That wasn’t the question she wanted to ask. Instead, she turned back toward her Dread. “Why don’t you have a name?”
He opened his mouth, but was interrupted before he could speak.
“He didn’t take one after the first war with the humans. We lost a lot of Dread, but some of us realized the use in having names when in battle. Calling out Dread when there are hundreds of us doesn’t exactly make fighting easier. We’re named for our occupation. And he doesn’t have one.”
Blacksmith plunged his hands into a bucket of water next to the forge. Steam sizzled and coiled toward his face, looking all the much like smoke from hellfire. He locked his eyes with hers, never looking away from what must have been excruciating pain.
Or perhaps he didn’t feel it at all.
Her Dread stepped closer until she could feel the heat of his chest against her back. “That’s enough with the theatrics, Blacksmith.”
“Of course. We’re supposed to let humans think we’re mindless, slavering beasts.” He shook his head. “You remember what that Dread from Little Marsh was like when she visited, don’t you? It’s only a matter of time before we lose all sense of being.”
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“That was a different tribe, led by a different Dread.”
They argued in earnest, but she didn’t understand what they were saying. Mindless beasts? Creatures who only hunted for the thrill of the hunt, and yet they knew to visit? She didn’t understand, although it sounded very much like they were arguing over distant cousins who were struggling in their lives.
Cousins who had suspiciously gone silent in recent years.
Danielle took a step away, then another, until she was back to the wall of swords which had first caught her eye. Let the Dread argue about the subject. At least the beasts weren’t staring at her with heated gazes anymore.
Besides, she wanted to look at the weapons. The metal had been hammered so many times she couldn’t even see the marks. It was as if they had been molded into perfection with no one ever touching them. Even the hilts were beautiful. Some smooth and without a single fingerprint. Others, intricately wrapped with wire and gemstones.
She reached up a hand and almost touched one before she realized both the Dread had gone silent behind her. Danielle lowered her hand.
Her Dread’s voice, warm and amused, rang through the air. “We’re here to get her a sword.”
“You want me to forge a sword for a human princess?” Blacksmith snapped.
“That’s exactly what I want you to do. No human blade is good enough for such royalty.”
Danielle turned at that comment. She placed her hands on her hips with twin thuds. “Excuse me? A human sword is what I fought you with the first and second time. I thought I did just fine.”
“I defeated you easily both times because the sword was far too heavy for your delicate arms.”
She resisted the urge to put her hands on her biceps. “They aren’t delicate.”
“You’ve been a pampered princess your entire life,” he corrected, leaning a hip against the forge. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Fighting is about more than strength, but if I give you a boulder to lift over your head, you’ll drop it on yourself. See the logic?”
No, she didn’t at all. Mostly because she didn’t want to believe she was weak. Danielle glanced over at Blacksmith as though he would help her win this battle.