Hollow: Isa Fae paranormal romance (Fallen Sorcery Book 2)

by Steffanie Holmes

  Another fae came at them, and another, each one fresh to the fight, their skin gleaming, their faces aglow with the joy of battle. Aisling’s arms screamed. She swung clumsily, her sword flailing. Even Niall looked tired, his face streaked with the blood of those he’d felled. It was only by the awkwardness of their position that they continued to hold ground.

  “Fall back!” he hissed at her. Aisling dropped the heavy sword and raced for the end of the hall, Niall hot on her heels. Four fae vaulted the table and raced after them, their feet pounding against the marble.

  “Argh!” one of them yelled as his foot hit one of the statues, and he went down, bringing the fae behind him down as well. The other two leapt over their comrades, not even slowing down.

  “Quick, into the dining room!” Niall yelled as loud as he could, loud enough for all the fae to hear. Aisling poured on speed, her feet slipping against the marble, slick now with the blood caking the bottom of her shoes. She reached the end of the hall, where the dining room door gaped open, the inky blackness inside snaking its tendrils around the edge of the wooden door.

  Fear rose in her chest as they reached out toward it. One wrong move, one foot out of place, and she’d fall right into the void.

  Niall grabbed her hand. At the last possible second, he yanked her hard. The cold of the void grazed her cheek, and then it was gone. Aisling caught the corner of the cellar doorframe and swung herself around, crouching down as she found her footing on the narrow steps.

  The fae were not so lucky. They couldn’t slow their momentum, and crashed into the door, sending it swinging inwards, where it disappeared into the black void waiting just beyond the threshold. The fae didn’t have time to scream before they too were swallowed, just the way her mother had been.

  The warriors who followed directly behind them managed to stop themselves just in time. Theirs eyes grew wide as they stared directly into the void itself. That was when Aisling and Niall hit them with knives and daggers. They had the element of surprise. Within moments they had cut down the last of the fae.

  “Where now?” Aisling puffed, her stomach retching as she regarded the bodies littering the hall.

  “I think—” Niall began, then clutched his shoulder, wincing as a deep cut opened across his skin. An arrow stuck out of the wall just behind him.

  “This is pointless, witch.” A single fae stood at the end of the hall, his bow stretched between his long fingers, pointed directly at them. “This house, and all of its power, will be ours.”

  He raised the bow. Aisling’s breath froze in her chest. Niall squeezed her hand. She stared down the hall at death himself.

  She grinned.

  The door beside the fae flew open, and an invisible wind plucked him from the hallway and dragged him inside. The door slammed shut again. From inside the room, they heard the fae screaming.

  Niall turned to her, his eyes wide with surprise. “What did you do?”

  “It’s the house! It’s fighting for us.”

  “Quick!” Niall yanked her back. “That was only the first wave.”

  As if on cue, the picture frame on the wall behind them shattered, glass shards raining down on them. Niall shoved Aisling to the ground. Her knee hit the marble floor with a painful crack. Two more arrows sunk into the wall where they’d been standing.

  A moment later, Niall was tugging on her hand. “Run!” he yelled.

  Aisling scrambled to her feet. Arrows whizzed around her head, slamming into the walls as she streamed past, their felches still quivering from their flight. She pitched herself toward the library.

  Niall yanked her into the library, and slammed the door behind them. “Help me move this.” He started pushing on the large oak desk they’d already moved next to the door. Aisling took the other end, and together, they managed to drag it across the carpet and barricade the door.

  Aisling sprinkled a line of salt around the desk, and cast a protection spell around the door. Her hands felt cold again, and she knew the spell was weak. Just the act of performing it made her feel woozy. “I need to sit down.”

  While she slumped against the side of the desk, listening to the banging and voices in the hall as the fae ravaged her home, Niall paced across the room, over the bright square on the faded carpet where the desk had sat.

  “We’re trapped in here,” she said, her head throbbing. “It’s a dead end.”

  “Better than being dead out there,” Niall said. “We’ll wait them out. See if you can get the house to give you more power.”

  Aisling raised her hand to the ceiling, trying to force all thought from her mind. It was hard, given how the loud banging in the hall was occupying her mind right now, but she tried to focus on the house, on the memory of her grandmother. Please, give me more. I just need enough to stop them. Please, give me more power.

  Nothing happened. The warm feeling in her hands didn’t come back. Aisling lowered her arm. “It’s not working. Maybe it doesn’t have any more power to give. Did you find anything in those books?”

  “Yes!” Niall grabbed one of the open volumes off the stack by the window, and thrust it under her nose. Aisling stared at the diagram of sigils, trying to focus on the words DRAWING DOWN SPELL. Her fear made the lines wobble. Nothing made sense. A lump rose in her throat. How was she going to do this?

  You have to do this. You have to stop this from happening.

  Aisling reached for the book, but as she did so, the whole desk started to shake. The door banged against its hinges.

  “Niall.” Aisling planted her feet into the carpet, and strained her whole body against the desk. “They’re trying to move it!”

  No. I won’t let you take her.

  In a flash, Niall was beside her, his whole body leaning into the desk. Together, they managed to shove the desk back against the door. The magic book slid across the floor, just out of reach.

  Bang.

  A huge force shoved against the door. The desk hurtled across the room. Aisling was pitched out of the way. Her body slammed into one of the bookshelves. Pain arced across her skull. Books tumbled on top of her, their heavy corners pummeling her skin. White lights grew large and heavy across her eyes, stealing away her vision as she swam in an ocean of agony.

  The pain subsided, and she managed to pry open her eyes. Remnants of the desk lay scattered across the floor. Books littered the carpet like bodies on a battlefield, their spines torn open, ripped pages fluttering on a cold breeze. Niall lay near the fireplace, his body covered in books.

  I’ll never find that spellbook now.

  Niall raised his head and stared toward the door. Aisling followed her gaze, her stomach tight with dread.

  In the doorway stood a fae. Tall and majestic, his body shimmered with a pulsing blue aura so vivid even Aisling could see it. He carried no weapon, but if he alone had pushed the door open, he didn’t need one.

  That must be Laneth.

  The fae glared at Niall with cold, calculating eyes. Then, his gaze fixed on Aisling, and he smiled.

  “Good evening, Niall,” he said, his tone light, friendly. It made every word he said all the more sinister. “You didn’t think you could keep this place from me, did you? I’ve come for what’s mine.”

  “This isn’t your house, Laneth.” Niall said. “It isn’t your power, and it isn’t mine, either.”

  “Tsk, tsk, that’s not a fae talking.” The man’s eyes finally rested on Aisling’s face. “You’ve been corrupted, I see. Bewitched by this.”

  He indicated Aisling with a flip of his hand. She dragged her body up, pain clawing at her limbs. Magic burned in her fingers once more. Above their heads, the house groaned.

  “I speak of my own free will.” Niall spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. His voice cut the air like a blade. “You’re one to talk about corruption. You’ve stolen from our own people, Laneth. You’ve taken everything for yourself, and deprived Scitis of—”

  “They did nothing with it!” Laneth yelled. “Do
n’t you see? Power shared is power diminished. The Quaesitors were so obsessed with pushing their own ideas and gaining station, they didn’t think about what would happen if they combined their forces. So I did it for them. With this power, I can perform spells of untold magnitude. I have made Scitis more powerful than any other fae faction. And with the power of the Hollow at my disposal, we’ll soon triumph across all the realms. We’ll be the rulers of all, Niall. There’s still a chance for you to be part of it, if you join me now.”

  “Will any of this power be shared?” Niall demanded. “Are you going to give back what you stole from our own people?”

  “Of course.” Laneth holds up his hands. “I’m not greedy. I’m not keeping all this forever, just until we conquer the void, dispel the endless winter, and take all of the Isa realm for ourselves.”

  “Oh, of course!” Niall took a step toward Laneth. Aisling noticed his hand shoved behind his back, his fingers clasped around a thin dagger. “You’re the picture of selflessness, Laneth. You’re just doing this for the good of Scitis. Never mind that hundreds of fae have already died because you took away their atern. Never mind you killed my oldest and best friend, or that you’ve destroyed the most sacred institution we had—”

  “Sacred?” Laneth scoffed. “I’ve done what the Quaesitors have failed to do for the last fifty years. Me, an Aedifex? I’ve shown the whole system our faction is built on is a lie. Rebellion always comes at a cost, Niall. Now, will you join me in draining this witch?”

  Niall’s face twisted into an unreadable expression. He stepped forward, extending his hand to Laneth in friendship.

  As Laneth reached out to take his hand, Niall whipped his other arm out from behind his back. He plunged the dagger into Laneth’s chest, driving it in right up to the hilt. Laneth’s eyes bugged out, and he stared down at the handle protruding from his broad stomach.

  His chin quivered. Aisling leaned forward, ready to watch him fall. Instead, Laneth’s face broke into a wide grin.

  “It will take more than that to stop me,” Laneth said, his voice calm. He grabbed the handle of the knife, dragging it from his chest. It made a sickening plop sound as the tip of the blade pulled free. Laneth tossed the blade on the floor. The wound on his stomach closed over, leaving only a tiny smudge of blood.

  Laneth grabbed Niall by the throat. He lifted Niall off the ground, grinning wickedly as Niall struggled against his grip.

  “Let him go!” Aisling yelled. She rushed forward, but Laneth held up another hand. Aisling slammed against an invisible wall. She slammed her fists in the air, but as much as she struggled, she couldn’t get any closer. Niall’s face was turning white. Laneth’s grin grew wider.

  Aisling’s hands burned. She raised them in front of her face, and for the first time noticed tendrils of blue smoke swirling from the tips of her fingers. It wasn’t as strong as the blue shimmering around Laneth, but it gave her a surge of hope.

  She thrust her fingers out, pushing out the energy inside her. This time, her hand sailed right through the invisible wall. The heat burned in her hands, then surged outward, heading for Laneth. He dropped Niall and grabbed his arm, wincing as the heat seared his skin. A dark burn mark encircled his bicep, and Aisling caught the scent of burning flesh.

  “Get out of my house,” Aisling growled, the power surging through her body, boiling in her veins. She held out her hand, preparing to strike again.

  Laneth tossed his head back and laughed, the sound reverberating through the library. He swiped his fist through the air. Books rained from the shelves, scattering across the floor.

  With another swipe of his arm, the books rose from the floor, their pages unfurling as they circled the room in a wild dance, slamming against her body. Page after page tore away as Aisling’s most precious possessions became her tormentors.

  “No.” Aisling raised her own arm. She pulled up all the power within her, dragging every last ounce of energy. She forced up a great cone inside of her, the power churning, desperate for release. She threw all her rage and anger and pain behind it, all the memories of her childhood trapped inside this house, all the stolen moments of her life that she would never get to experience, all the loneliness and longing and regret, and she threw it all at Laneth.

  The power fled through her fingers, pouring from her into him. Laneth doubled over, clutching his stomach, his face twisting in agony. Niall managed to pull himself up, and he battled through the flapping books to wrap his arms around Aisling.

  “You got him!” he cried, slamming his fist into the attacking books as he pulled her toward the door.

  The blue aura around Laneth’s body pulsed, fading away, then returning, stronger than ever. He raised his head, and instead of the pain of Aisling’s strike, he looked triumphant.

  “You can’t touch me,” he cried, standing up and throwing his arms wide.

  With another wave of his wrist, the pages in the air turned into birds. Huge, white birds, their wings made from words, their talons the barbs of sonnets. They opened their wide sharp beaks and dove at Aisling and Niall.

  They ducked to avoid the first strike, scrambling across the room as the birds turned about and dove at them again. Aisling leapt left, her body slamming into the bookshelf. Some of the birds couldn’t turn fast enough, and they slammed against the barricade, their beaks sticking into the wood.

  Laneth surged forward, his hands raised high, a wicked grin on his face. Aisling raised her hand to her face, her other hand seeking Niall’s, wanting to die in his arms. Laneth lunged at them, his hands glowing blue. Aisling steeled herself for the end.

  The shelf behind her opened up, and swallowed them whole, collapsing the library into inky blackness.

  24

  Niall

  The birds had gone.

  Niall opened his eyes. He was lying on a hard, cold surface, a cloud of dust settling around him. A few feet away, he could see the outline of Aisling’s body, sprawled on her back, her head bent toward them. His chest tightened. Is she alive? Please let her be alive.

  Aisling blinked. Niall’s heart surged. She groaned and rolled over, crawling toward him. Niall managed to move his own arm, reaching out to clasp her fingers in his. His whole body ached.

  Aisling’s skin felt warm. She was alive. That meant they were both alive. But how? Niall’s head pounded. The last thing he remembered was being pummeled by books, and Laneth advancing on them with a malicious determination gleaming in his eyes. So what happened? Where was Laneth? Where were they?

  Niall rubbed his eyes, and lifted himself up to a sitting position, staring around them in surprise. They were lying in a dark hall, similar to other halls on the ground floor – dark wood panelling, with a light wash on the walls, and gilded portraits hanging from every surface. Candles burned from bronze sconces. Here and there were oak side tables covered with gilded dog statuettes. The marble floor beneath them was made in the same checkerboard pattern as the ballroom and entrance hall.

  But this wasn’t an ordinary hallway. For one thing, it extended in both directions, on and on into a dark infinity. For another, he had explored every inch of the Hollow that was still accessible, and he had never seen this corridor before.

  “Where are we?” he croaked out. His throat burned from where Laneth had tried to choke him.

  “I’ve never seen this hallway before in my life,” Aisling said, pulling herself to her feet, and helping Niall up.

  “Meerrrrw!” Something furry brushed against Niall’s leg. Aisling’s face lit up as she bent down and picked up Widdershins, cradling him to her chest like he was a baby. His yellow eyes closed and he tipped his head back in ecstasy as his whole body shuddered with purrs.

  Niall gave him a scratch under the chin. “I’ve never been so glad to see a black cat in my life,” he said. “You’re one of a kind, buddy.”

  “Meerrw!” Widdershins bolted forward, leaping down from Aisling’s arms and darting away into the darkness. Aisling called him, but he di
dn’t return. From somewhere in the distance, Niall heard him meow again.

  Aisling looked ready to go after him, but Niall held her hand. “Look.” Niall pointed to the gilded frame above. It was an image of Lady Greymouth he’d never seen before. She was wearing the emerald green dress from his dreams, and sitting at the piano in the ballroom. But instead of playing, she was staring out at him, her eyes seeming to move in the flickering candlelight. Her left arm was extended, her finger pointing down the hallway to their right, the same way Widdershins had gone. “This sounds crazy, but it’s almost as if she’s trying to help us, tell us where to go.”

  “And the floor.” Aisling shuffled her feet. “It’s the same pattern as the ballroom.”

  “Maybe that means we’re nearby.” Niall squeezed her hand. “Maybe the house is giving us a shortcut.”

  “What good will that do?” Aisling said. “The entrance hall is swarming with fae. If we end up in the ballroom, we still won’t be able to escape.”

  “We were trapped in the library, and now we’re not,” Niall said, tugging her hand. “I can’t pretend I understand this at all, but I think the house is showing us a way. It’s worth a shot.”

  Aisling squeezed his hand back. “Agreed,” she said. “Take me to the ball, fae.”

  Hand in hand, they made their way down the hallway, glancing at all the portraits. All of them showed Lady Greymouth in different clothes, in different rooms or out on the grounds. In every picture she stared directly at him, her painted eyes unblinking, and pointed the way ahead. The silence swirled around them. Niall could no longer hear the fae crashing through the house, or the flap of those vicious birds. He’d assumed the library was just through the wall, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe this hallway wasn’t really a place at all. He rubbed Aisling’s arm, where her bare skin had risen in goosebumps.