The Hollows, page 7
“That is not important. And I plead with you to have a little more tact,” Day grumbled. Sevens rubbed against my side and looked up at me, each eye crinkled in what I could only determine as a smile.
“No, NO! Not today, Day. Never, ever again. Go away!” A skinny, shirtless humanoid with long pointy ears and hairy in places that I didn’t think possible to grow hair in.
Day’s demeanor became soft, “My friend, it is time. I need that favor you owe me.”
“Take that favor and shove it up your cloak,” The thing said and spat a large green glob at Day’s feet. Those around started to make their way to the farther corners away from the confrontation.
“Freyr, you bought information for a favor,” Day’s voice was back to his typical velvet steel.
Freyr hung his head and let out a course of obscenities that would make a Scotsman blush, “Fine, am I to kill someone? Rob someone?”
Day laughed, “No, nothing like that. I just need information on the current opening to Mordecai.”
Freyr’s eyes bulged and he jumped backward, slamming his back against the farthest wall. Seven’s bumped into me in time for me to realize that every creature, every beast, was now in a dead silence, staring with terror in their eyes in our direction.
Freyr’s hands and legs shook and he stared at the ground, “Please, no.”
“Do you or do you not know where his wall sits?”
The creature nodded, “You know what will happen to me if I tell you.”
Day almost sounded sincere, “I do. My deepest apologies, but you know the code. Information for a favor. That is my favor.”
Freyr’s eyes lit up, “But wait! This is no favor! This is information! You bartered the wrong thing, dearest Day. Therefore, a new bargain must be struck. If you had asked me to take you there, that would have been entirely different, but you did not. You want information.”
Day stood to his fullest height, and never had he been so menacing. He towered above anything that walked the market, twelve feet high and five feet in diameter, his cloak folded and expanded taking up nearly the entire expanse between him and Freyr.
When he spoke, Day sounded like a god, voice vibrating off the stone and ground, “The favor is you enduring the outcome of giving me his location. The favor is you going through that pain and agony, that fear and loneliness. My favor is you swallowing your fear.”
Freyr gulped and shaded his eyes that were no dripping heavily with newly formed tears.
Day’s shadow shrank back to its original size, now no taller or wider than a normal man, “I am truly sorry, Freyr. But this is what is best. And, as of this moment, this is what I need most.”
Freyr nodded, “So you will be okay, sending me to my death?”
“There is no guarantee you will die.”
The creature slouched on the grounded and sighed, “He’s next to the weystones. It won’t be there for long, maybe another hour or two before changing again. Fourteen doors down, three turns, by the smallest weystone down the smallest street. Hurry. The Gray will be here soon,” he said looking around at the mass crowd growing restless. “Now go and let me die in peace.”
After we managed to weave our way to the outer skirts of the marketplace, I walked beside Day, “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”
Day was silent for a moment, deep in thought and morose, “Everything has a price.”
I rolled my eyes as we walked; the darkness swallowed the path behind us as if to force us to forget where we came from and drive us like cattle to the slaughter.
Chapter 4.5:
Lungs Full of Water
The fall took her breath from her chest and dropped her stomach. There wasn’t a scream, there was no time. It came more of a gasp as the stairs opened underneath dropping her like a stone. Ground, grass, and dirt skyrocketed upwards, leaving dust and soot shooting up her nostrils.
Within a blink, the dirt became open air, a black sky surrounding her as the world screeched away. The sky enveloped her for seconds, minutes, maybe hours. With a curt gust forced against her face, taking in breath was impossible as her lungs burned with her descent. Her hair and her dress flowing upwards, flapping painfully against her skin with the unseen wind; her limbs flailing and reaching for anything in the swirling chaos.
It felt like concrete when her legs hit the surface of the water. Midst the fall, she found herself at an angle at the point of impact, saving the bones in her ankles and knees from being shattered. Icy water wrapped around her as she crashed below the surface, her arms flailing against the current, desperate for the air above the water. The girl pulled against the water, pushing the dress away from her face as she swam upwards, lungs burning, eyes stinging, and muscles aching with the lack of oxygen.
When her fingertips broke into the open air, the last bit of strength forced her face upward, arching her back, craning midair before sinking back to the water. The air rushed into her lungs, sending a shudder of relief through her limbs.
Time was elusive as it usually is when trying catching your breath after the fear of drowning set in. She took the time to collect herself, treading in the water to catch her breath before lying afloat on her back. Her eyes had not yet fully adjusted, leaving the world in its darkness, no light in the sky to see the breaks in the water. Waves grew higher, splashing over her face. The girl’s head dipped below the water and resurfaced again, rubbing out the pain in her sides where she connected hard with the surface.
Dim lights began to give lines to the world above, “No,” She pleaded. “Please, no.”
At first, she was sure it was just her imagination. It had to be. It was just the night playing tricks on the mind like it always does. Green pulsed, slowly the lights grew vague mirages above her. Lighter, darker, lighter, darker, the lights pulsed like a vein. She could hear the beat in her head, the same beat that pulsed in tandem with the rate of her heart, flickering the world above her. With each thump, it gave a dim distinction of a vast maze, stretching out farther than her eyes could adjust to. The curves and jagged walls filled the night, each turn and winding pathway. Walls shifted, moving with the fluidity of a living being. The labyrinth with no end stood above her, taunting and laughing with her quickening throbbing heart.
The water level rose and fell around her, splashing against her chest and treading arms, leaving a black oozy film covering her skin.
The water. Not water. The bile, the liquid, the blood…her mind was frantic with possibilities. Rancid smells and tastes attacked her, closing up her throat and burning her lips. The girl choked out a cough, trying desperately not to breathe it in, but in doing so, singed her nostrils and made her woozy.
Her eyes followed to the maze above, illuminating the different floors and hallways as though looking through opaque glass. A section caught her attention and forced her breath to hold in her lungs. In doing so, her heartbeat increased, as did the time between the lights pulsing above, making the single, large section of shadow all the more evident. It moved back and forth, dowsing the light around it. It tracked directly above her as if sniffing her scent in the opening with which she fell.
She exhaled slowly, ignoring the putrid stench, letting her heartbeat slow, “What are you?”
Something hard bumped against her body beneath the water’s surface.
A gasp escaped her as she flinched, splashing water as she came upright, treading again. Leathery scales slithered by her ankles. The kneejerk reaction caused her to scream, paddling and swimming away from the unseen invader. Although, to the thing beneath the surface, the splashing water and the new-found sounds made her the intruder. It made it curious. And, if not fed or cared for, might have made it hungry.
She peddled faster, deeper into the ocean. She was not terribly much younger than she was at that moment when she first acquired her fear of water. Well, not necessarily the water itself, that was not immensely dangerous if you had figured out the skill of floating and treading. No, it was the things beneath the surface. The girl remembered being pushed in, by whom she could not recollect. Regardless, there she found herself, head and body beneath the surface as ice covered over the top and things bumped and ground against her body. Finding a way out as the air drained from her chest proved taxing as tentacles or weeds tangled around her ankles. The girl remembered being pulled out, breathing deeply and cold, with lacerations leading all the way up her thigh. She was sick for weeks after the incident. Waking up in the comfort of home was all well and good, but she found herself avoiding bodies of water, often subconsciously, mostly on purpose, not able to control the fear of what lies beneath.
Now treading, coming to a halt, the girl stayed as stoic as her body would allow while keeping her head afloat. The water’s waves, self-caused, splashed against her face. She could feel the slime and mud sticking to her cheeks and covering her mouth. A small splash swept over her eyes, leaving residue on her pupils, making them water, blinking furiously and painfully for a clear view.
Fingernails scratched at her calf.
She jerked way, but the pain seared up her leg. Warmth surrounded her legs where the flesh tore, stinging with the salt and grunge mixing with the freshly opened wound. Flashbacks of her entrapment from years before liquefied her strength.
Her eyes swept the water around her in each direction. Doing 360-degree turns, her hair whipped in the water until she became still, watching the barely visible surface. The water stilled. Waves ceased and the air stopped circulating. The ocean was placid and still, the calm before the storm, the complete tranquility before a calamity. She held her breath, watching the liquid become a still sheet of glass, like the ice caked on the lake during a particularly frozen afternoon, not giving away the movements beneath it.
In her stomach and chest, she could feel the beast around her, something old and lonely, daring and ravenous. Something forgotten in the black waters beneath the Labyrinth.
“Go away,” She whispered to only herself, the still in the world barely caring her whisper to her own ears.
Gurgles and the sound of a splash rippled behind her. Turning quickly, the only glimpse she caught was that of the rippling effects slowly sending waves towards her. A swell of water rose and fell as sights of black skin and broken scales sank beneath a few feet ahead of her. Backpedaling, she pushed herself the other direction, not wanting to cause too much indication of her location. Another wrinkle, subtle, rose and fell heading toward her. Then another, larger, gurgling ripple broke the surface as it lunged outward and upward. The girl knew she could not retreat far enough or fast enough. As the final splash rippled in front of her, she screamed.
The slithers clasped around her ankle and pulled her under. The water swallowed her.
She made desperate swipes at her ankles to free herself from its grasp. In her fruitless attempt, the girl blew out bubbles of frustration. Her fingertips felt the surface being pulled away from her as she battled for the break in the water. Her muscles ached, wildly trying to pull her upward as she sank deeper into the black. There was nothing to stop her from screaming. The tears stung as it mixed with the liquid around her as she cried inaudible gurgles for help. Water filled her mouth and her lungs were empty, arms growing painfully tired. Slowly, her lungs filled with a burn that spread from her chest to her back and down her legs.
Her eyes searched, pleaded, and cried into nothingness. The final convulsions caused her to draw in a breath full of the black water. The pain was unbearable, coughing up lungs full of water back into the ocean only to be refilled.
Sobbing beneath the surface, she felt the water rushing upwards while she was dragged deeper and deeper. The girl thought for a brief, surrendering moment about how she took for granted a single gasp, how a simple breath, in the middle of drowning, would be more valuable than anything in this world. She wondered how many felt that way, how desperation and hopelessness can shine a light on all the small, forgotten things that give us all life and beauty. The girl wanted to think about those moments that she let all pass her by, of all those misplaced trinkets and blips of beautiful simplicity that are torn from our grasp in a frightfully fast world. She wanted to hold on to those little things tight to her chest, embracing them just one more time. Convulsing, she choked and began to vomit, being pulled deeper and deeper into the void.
Interlude III
Ethan and Maggie followed the old woman and her two cohorts from a distance, keeping to the dark corners and avoiding open areas. If memory served, the market was up this direction. His father had taken him many times, but he was adamant about never bringing his mother or Maggie. Maybe it was for their protection, maybe it was for something else.
They had kept behind them at a leisurely pace, not wanting to act as pursuers, but not wanting to lose sight of any of them. He could hear the crowds from a distance as scrutinizing the best way to approach the old lady. Maggie interrupted his thoughts.
“Do you remember the times before the Woman in Red? Before that night?” Maggie asked.
“Yes,” He whispered.
Maggie stood next to him, staring at nothing, “I don’t.”
Ethan sat and thought, wondering why she was bringing up the past, especially right now. For several months, they had not thought about anything but the future. Finding the Woman in Red. He wondered why she was becoming so nostalgic. She did not have the look of sentiment or remembrance, but he could tell that something was digging at her.
To feed his curiosity he spoke to her about things he would never forget. Things that he would hope that, even with the extensive emotional trauma, she could not forget either.
“Father always taking us to the water outside of town, making sure we kept distance from the water’s edge. I remember,” He continued, “He used to gather up little bugs in the dark, ones that were harmless but were good for catching larger animals to eat. Don’t you remember having those brown boxes that were full of them? We would keep them in our room with the ticks and tatters. You used to tell me you loved having the sound in the background as you slept.”
Maggie did not answer.
He was worried about her. Acting withdrawn was one thing, acting empty was another problem altogether, “Please tell me you at least remember when dad and mom would pull up the least coarse grass and old crunched leaves and pile them up for us,” He laughed. “You ran as fast as you could and dove headfirst into them and refused to come out for a solid twenty minutes. It was a game to you. We would dig you out, redo the pile, and you would just dive in again, giggling at the top of your lungs. You were a happy kid back then, Maggie. Remember?”
She stared forward, picking up the pace. Her face was completely deadpan, void of any emotion. Ethan’s stomach twisted, nearly creating a small lump in his throat. But, he swallowed it down. It was not the time to think about that.
The crowds around the market thickened. Their backs were turned as Ethan reached over and grabbed a half-rotten piece of food off a cart, quickly blending back into the crowds as to not be sighted. He bit into the long stalk, tearing apart the mush and chewing it loudly, letting some of the juices from the rot drip down his chin. He swallowed the rest, leaving behind the stalk wrapping on the ground and continuing on the direction of the old woman.
He looked around wildly, suddenly losing sight of her hunched back as passing creatures blocked his view.
“Where did she go?” Ethan said frustrated.
He looked through the market. With his height, beasts and things were obscuring his view. He stood on his tiptoes before climbing an old wooden crate. All the creatures looked the same, faces blurred or molded with despair.
“How do you lose an old lady with a cart?” Maggie asked.
He craned his neck, “It’s not like I meant to. Can’t keep track of anything with this crowd.”
Maggie did not bother to help. She stood there, contrasting the world around her with her bright pink dress and beautiful blonde hair. Emotionless and undisturbed, she stood still. Creatures moved close by but never touched her.
Ethan ground his teeth until his jaw hurt. He needed to find the old lady, for no other reason than to satisfy his and Maggie’s curiosity. He did not understand why it dug into him so deep the fact he lost her.
“We can’t stay here,” Maggie said.
“I know, but we have to find her,” He said. Then, creatures started staring over to a small corner of the market at the far end. A loud argument had occurred, not long but enough to cause a disruption in the flow of things. “Wait, that’s the girl that talked to her.”
Ethan saw her there with a seven-limbed creature and a Shade. They were surrounding a small and peculiar looking man who looked to be begging. Begging for what, he did not know. They were just out of earshot and he dared not be seen by them. Not yet.
He climbed down the box slowly, maneuvering through hips, legs, hooves, and claws to move closer.
“Smallest weystone,” The peculiar man said.
There were muffled noises as creatures started to move on, attempting to mind their own business. Ethan could see them talking, now, but the conversation seemed to have come to an end.
“Just leave me to die in peace,” The man said sitting on the wall, and the Shade seemed to do just that. Leave him, broken and crying.
Maggie put her hand in his, she felt light to the touch and cold.
“We need to follow them,” Ethan said.
Maggie nodded.
“The Shade and the girl looked like they knew the woman. If they do, then they could lead us back to her.”
Ethan knew the weystones. He knew everything around this town. It comes with the territory being stuck to a place with no intention of leaving. You learn every crack, every hovel, and every bone. To get to the Weystone, they’d pass through a familiar alley of his.
An arm grabbed him from behind.
A handful of little men with thick beards and pointed noses glowered at him, “He is the one. I saw him steal from the cart.”
