The Edge of Strange Hollow Read online

  It was strange. There were no windows, but somehow there was light shifting over the smooth bark of the inner tree. It looked like sunshine. How? She moved up the shallow rooted steps. It wasn’t just light moving over the surface, it was shadow too, as if something moved just under the surface. She reached out to touch it and fell back with a shout.

  Bright hazel eyes looked down at her. The bark shifted with a sound like a sigh, and a narrow face pushed from the surface. Her skin looked soft—not like bark at all, and was golden and brown, like warmed honey. Long dark tendrils hung around her face like tiny branches. A delicate crown of sparkling black thorns and red holly berries rested on her head.

  Nula’s voice came in a whisper. “Now she is fancy.”

  Poppy glanced at Mack and almost laughed. She could have knocked him down with a breath, he was so enthralled. She nudged him and he straightened, closing his mouth.

  The Holly Oak’s smooth shoulders appeared next, followed by her arms, which lifted into a graceful stretch. A rustling sound, and the bark below her collarbones shifted into a gown of russet and gold leaves.

  The Holly Oak smiled, her hazel eyes sparkling with amusement. She lifted one arm to point directly at Poppy. “You are Pandora Sunshine Bright. I can see your mother and your father in you. Come here.” Her voice was deep and rough.

  Poppy swallowed and stepped back up on the dais. “Just Poppy,” she whispered.

  The tree gave her a gentle smile. “Poppy, then. Come closer. I won’t bite.” The Holly Oak lifted one hand to shield her mouth so the others couldn’t see. “I don’t have to,” she confided.

  Poppy’s mouth twitched. She did as she was asked.

  The Holly Oak reached up and took Poppy’s chin in her fingers. Her grip was gentle, but firm—strong. Poppy held very still. She could sense the care the Holly Oak used, as if in other circumstances, she could choose to snap bone with her bare fingers.

  The Oak turned Poppy’s face first to one side, and then the other. She let go, and Poppy fell back a step. “You have your parents’ bravery, I think.” She smiled as her hazel eyes narrowed. “But I think … not yet their wisdom.” She leaned forward from the tree, as though peeling herself away from it. “So, why are you here, Poppy Sunshine? Did your parents send you?”

  “Send me? My—my parents? No. They’re in the wood too though, hunting something called the Soul Jar. They think it’s a malediction that was maybe altered by—”

  Poppy sputtered to a halt as the smile melted off the Holly Oak’s face. “I’m familiar with that rumor. But I think you must be mistaken.”

  Dark clouds appeared to roll over the Holly Oak’s face. Poppy faltered. “You—you mean it’s not a malediction? They can’t be changed to have an altered purpose?”

  “No, your parents are right about that. I don’t know who has learned to change a malediction’s purpose and bind it with their blood. It must be a creature with great power. Nonetheless, that is certainly what this Soul Jar is.” She paused. “What I meant was, your parents aren’t hunting the Soul Jar. They aren’t in the Grimwood at all.”

  “What?” Poppy shook her head. “No, they have to be. Where else would they be? Jute said they were.”

  The Holly Oak leaned farther out, until Poppy was forced to step back off the dais to make way for the folds of her gown. “I cannot see them, or sense them. That can mean only one of two things.”

  Poppy’s stomach dropped through the floor.

  “It means they are dead, or they have crossed the fog.”

  A small cry escaped Poppy’s lips, but the Holly Oak only straightened. Her eyes never left Poppy’s face. “I am sorry to be the bearer of these tidings.”

  “No. That’s wrong.”

  “It is not.”

  “They can’t be dead.”

  “Then they are outside the fog.”

  “Why would they leave?” Mack asked, stepping forward. “I don’t think they’d do that. You said … you said the Soul Jar was real. What does it do?”

  The tree cocked her head at him. “Hello, elf.”

  Mack flushed and dropped his head. “Mackintosh nee Gala, ma’am. I go by Mack.”

  “Mack,” the Oak acknowledged. “What does the Soul Jar do? Though I have not beheld it, I expect that, as its name implies, it traps souls—or the energy of souls.”

  “That’s what we thought too.” Mack agreed.

  Nula stepped up on Poppy’s other side. “So, could they be in there, then? Could Poppy’s parents have gotten caught in the Soul Jar? Would that explain why you can’t see them?”

  Poppy’s heart raced. If her parents were stuck in the Soul Jar … then there was a chance she could get them out. Wasn’t there? She held her breath.

  “Greetings, pooka.” Nula blushed dark blue under the Oak’s scrutiny. “Trapped inside a malediction. That is an interesting theory…”

  Dog, sensing Poppy’s anxiety, leaned into her leg. Poppy dropped one cold hand down against Eta’s warm neck.

  “It seems unlikely,” the tree finished.

  “But—” Nula and Poppy said in unison.

  Nula whipped the air with her tail. “Maybe you just don’t know as much as you think you do,” she snapped.

  The Holly Oak’s hazel eyes focused on Nula. “And maybe, little pooka … maybe I know more than you think I do.”

  “Stop it,” Mack hissed at Nula. “You’re not helping.”

  Nula’s ears flattened.

  “Can you see my house?” Poppy asked.

  “Your home is of the wood, and so within my sight and sense.”

  “And they’re not there?”

  The tree shook her head, sending her leafy gown rustling.

  “What about the Hollows?” Mack asked. “Can you see there?”

  The gold-brown skin of the Holly Oak’s face darkened. “I cannot.”

  Poppy scowled. “My parents aren’t welcome in Strange Hollow—not in any of the Hollows, especially now that Governor Gale is in charge.”

  Mack grimaced. “That leaves the fog.”

  “The fog does not belong to me,” the Holly Oak said. “My magic called it, and maintains it, but it is a free being. I cannot see within, or beyond it.”

  Poppy felt the blood drain from her face. Mack looked queasy. “The fog … is really alive?”

  “Its very nature is to obscure. Its task is to hold the Grimwood and the Hollows together, bound by my magic, and bound to it as well.”

  The tree held up one hand as Poppy opened her mouth to speak. “Peace. I can only tell you what I know to be true. My power extends to all the trees and soil of the forest—only as far as the edge of Strange Hollow. If they are in the wood, this Soul Jar is the only place I know of where I might not know of their presence. Perhaps they are not dead.”

  The wave of relief that washed over Poppy was so strong she thought she might be sick. Her parents weren’t dead. They couldn’t be. She wouldn’t let it be. And they weren’t gone forever into the outside world either—or lost in the fog. They would never leave the Grimwood behind. They were caught. And that meant they could be freed.

  The Holly Oak’s dark brows furrowed. “Be careful, Poppy. Hope is food for the soul of every living being—yours included, but it can lead us astray. What you hope for is possible. The Soul Jar might have your parents. It is also possible this has not taken place.”

  Poppy swallowed the bitterness in her throat, grateful to have Mack and Nula at her side. “If they’re trapped I’ll find them,” Poppy insisted. She wouldn’t allow even a sliver of doubt to ring in her words. They were alive and they needed her help. She would help them. That had to be the end of it. If she heard even the tiniest bit of doubt in her own voice, she might stop believing she could do it.

  The tree considered her and frowned. “The Grimwood is no place for children. My advice to you—go home and wait. This forest is perilous during the day, and even more so at night.”

  Poppy shook her head. “I’m not goi
ng home. I’m going to find the Soul Jar and get my parents out.” Mack’s breath caught at the brazenness of her tone, but it was only the truth. To give the Holly Oak less would be wrong.

  “Very well…” The tree gave an amused snort that was so unexpected, it made Nula snort too. “I will not force you. To do so would cost me more than I can spare. You must make your own choices, and suffer your own consequences.”

  Poppy gritted her teeth. “Can you explain how the maledictions work or—or who might have altered one? Can you do anything to help? What about the Soul Jar? Do you know anything more about that? Will you?”

  For a moment, the Holly Oak looked almost sad. “Will I what?”

  “Will you help?”

  “I am many things, Poppy Sunshine. I am not without power, but I am rooted here. There is very little I can do to help you.” The tree brushed one hand over her lap, sending the leaves rustling as if in a breeze. “What I can do, I will.” She paused. “When I first met your parents, I acknowledged their right to hunt maledictions. Permission was not mine to withhold, and it seemed only fair. To show that I understood their reasoning, I even acknowledged their bravery, and sacrifice, as only I am able.”

  Poppy and Mack shared a look. She had always wondered if the Holly Oak made her house. Now she knew.

  “As to your other questions,” the Oak continued. “The answers are: I cannot, I could only guess, I will try, what about it, no, and as I said … if I can.”

  Poppy scowled, trying to remember what she’d asked to match up the answers. Her chest grew tight, but when she looked up into the Holly Oak’s face, she was surprised to find the tree’s hazel eyes glistening with sap. “I’ve not had dealings with many of your people, but David and Jasmine have my respect—they are better than most. I would like to help you.

  “You asked about the nature of the maledictions. I am sorry that I cannot give you more of the answers you’re seeking. There are things I cannot say.”

  Mack reached to grip Poppy’s shoulder. “Cannot, or will not?”

  The Holly Oak shifted, lifting her sap-stained face to Mack. “Cannot.” She grimaced. “What I have told you already was uncomfortable for me.”

  Mack gave a stiff nod. “I understand.”

  A smile played over the Holly Oak’s mouth, never quite landing. “I’ve always liked elves. You are wise observers. Almost as wise as trees.” She held out her palms. “I am rooted. My senses allow me knowledge, but my magic lies in the trees and soil. I have done what I can.”

  Poppy clenched her fists. “But you haven’t done anything!”

  The Holly Oak smiled gently at her. “Your parents did not share with me how clever you are. Stubborn, disobedient, impulsive … all those qualities they told me of, but they left out how clever you are.”

  Poppy sputtered, unsure whether she was being complimented or insulted.

  The tree considered her, tapping her chin with one long finger. The gesture made her look strangely human. She gave Poppy a meaningful look. “I told you it is my magic that holds us all together. You must understand that all magic comes with a cost.” She stiffened and gave a small sudden gasp. Her slender fingers clutched at her head.

  Poppy reached out. “Are you all right?”

  A shiver of leaves, and the tree slowly straightened. Poppy gasped. The Oak’s face was streaked in sparkling black.

  “I am fine. Thank you.” But the Holly Oak’s voice was ragged, and Poppy couldn’t stop looking at the streaks that now marred her face.

  The Holly Oak turned to consider Mack, and then Nula. Her eyes rested for some time on Dog. “Your parents gave you a gift that is fit for a queen,” she said, and Poppy caught a fleeting look of sorrow, or perhaps regret, cross her face. It was gone before she could be sure.

  “I’m not certain you were wise to bring them,” the tree added, and Poppy wondered whether she was referring to Dog, or to Mack and Nula. Regardless, she knew the Holly Oak was right. It had been selfish of her to want them with her.

  The Holly Oak pointed one finger at her. “Do not get yourself killed, Poppy Sunshine. If your parents are not dead—if they escape and you are not alive to see it, I will never hear the end of it.”

  Poppy flushed. Before she could stop herself, one more question slipped out. “What now?” she asked.

  The tree shifted, her form moving in and out of the bark of the tree as if she were speaking from behind a thin veil—a breeze shifting it so that Poppy had to narrow her eyes to track her. She was much taller than Poppy had realized.

  “Well,” the Holly Oak’s voice began to fade as her form sank back from the surface. “Since you will not do what you should, the decision is yours. You must decide.” She turned away, disappearing behind walls of bark.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The night was full and dark by the time they left the Holly Oak’s chamber, this time by the front doors, which swung open onto a wide, comfortable platform.

  “Well, that was weird,” Nula said, turning to Mack. “Her face … did you get the feeling—”

  Mack raised one eyebrow. “I definitely did.”

  “What do you think it was?” Nula asked.

  “Let’s get out of here first,” Mack insisted, leading the way down the curved stair.

  Poppy couldn’t follow what they were talking about and she couldn’t stop thinking about her parents. By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, her heart had squeezed into a tiny knot. Mack cast a concerned look at her as she took a shuddering breath.

  She had to force the fear out of her head. She couldn’t allow herself to doubt. If fear dug its claws into her, she’d crumble right here and not get up again. They were alive. She would find them, and free them. She ran the words through her head like a warning.

  Under the pavilions, food had been laid out, and all the creatures still waiting for an audience with the Holly Oak milled around. Some chatted softly with one another, but all fell silent when Poppy and her friends arrived. Eyes of all colors turned to watch them pass. Two of the werewolves standing on their hind legs let out low snarls, and Dog instantly bristled.

  “Easy, Dog,” Poppy murmured. She turned slowly. Every face, without exception, seemed angry. Apparently, jumping the line was not to be forgiven. Her gaze fell on the hobbled old woman with the clawed hand. Gnarled and bent, she looked back with sparkling ice-blue eyes that were so full of malignant intent that a cold sweat burst across Poppy’s forehead. When the woman smiled, she felt the blood drain from her face. Her teeth were sharp—and there were too many.

  Poppy stumbled back. “Maybe we should…”

  “Go somewhere else?” Mack suggested, tugging at Dog’s collar. “Yeah. Nula already went.”

  Poppy backed up, moving away from the pavilion until, afraid of falling, she turned. Nula’s tufted ears were just visible beyond a mass of roots at the edge of the meadow, where the cobbles of the Alcyon rose to meet it. Poppy shivered. She wished she’d remembered to pack a jacket.

  “Make any friends?” Nula quipped as they joined her, ducking down behind the roots.

  Mack’s mouth twitched as he settled to the ground, his back against the biggest section of root. Poppy pulled a face and flopped to sit against the tree.

  Mack scooted closer and nudged her. “You okay?”

  Nula shifted nearer. “I wonder who has them!”

  Mack scrubbed a hand over his face. “And why!”

  “Can’t be anything good,” Nula muttered.

  Poppy didn’t answer either of them as she fought back a wave of nausea. Instead, she dug the last of the sandwiches out of her pack and passed them around. She gave the last one to Dog. “We just have to find them, that’s all. That’s what we need to focus on.” Her voice hitched. “We … we just need to find them.”

  Mack gave her a sympathetic look and changed the subject, unwrapping his sandwich. “Well, one thing’s for sure. The Holly Oak is under a geis. I’m sure of it.”

  Nula took a vigorou
s bite of her sandwich. “Defnutluh.”

  Poppy squinted at her, then turned to Mack. “What’s a geis … wait, is that … is that like a spell or something?” She rooted around in her backpack.

  “Sort of,” Mack began.

  “Wait, I think I remember that. It’s in my glossary.” She pulled out her notebook and flipped to the back.

  “Geis—a vow or curse. Wait.” She flipped the page. “That’s it?” She closed the book with a sigh. “That’s it.”

  Mack held up a finger as he finished chewing. After a moment he explained, “It means she made a promise.”

  Nula spoke through another bite of sandwich. “Made of stone.”

  “Huh?”

  The pooka swallowed. “Promises—they’re made of stone in the Grimwood. That’s what they say.”

  “Made of … stone?”

  “It means they’re unbreakable. Promises can’t be broken.”

  “What kind of promise did the Holly Oak make?” Poppy wondered.

  Mack’s eyes cracked open. “Something she knows that she’s not allowed to tell.”

  “I agree.” Nula’s face grew somber. It made her look older, and stranger.

  Poppy fell quiet for a moment, thinking. “What do you think it’s about?”

  Mack took a deep breath. “Hard to know for sure. What did she say, again? Right before she went weird?”

  Nula snorted. “Well, she told Poppy she was clever. Maybe that’s what made her go weird.”

  “Hey!”

  Nula smiled. “Sorry. Couldn’t help it. She said … uh … she said her magic holds us together, and that magic has a cost. Blah blah blah … Every tree … blah blah.”

  “That’s right!” Mack sat up. “She said all magic comes with a cost.”

  Poppy chewed, considering the Oak’s words. She said her power was in the trees and the soil … That would mean that her power was in everything in the wood.

  “What does it matter?” Nula shook off the gloom and took a happy bite of her sandwich. “I don’t see how any of that helps. If we went to the faeries … but I know you won’t do that.” She lay back and laced her fingers under her head. “So, what now, oh stubborn one?” she asked.