A Hollow in the Hills

by Ruth Frances Long

‘It’s okay. You’re safe now. I have you. You’ll—’

  The knife flashed between them and Reaper froze for a second, shock and horror spreading over his face with the same speed as the blood gushing from his throat. He sank to his knees, his hands trying to stop the flow and failing.

  Holly smiled, not even sparing him a glance. ‘Good, Coal. Well done. A clean kill. Welcome to my kith. Now that’s out of the way, let’s see to you, shall we my hound? After all, you wouldn’t want to miss your moment, would you?’

  ‘Leave him alone!’ said Izzy. She stepped between them, furious and fearless, her hands balled to fists in that way she did when she was picking a hopeless fight. Jinx wanted to tell her to run, to get away, but he couldn’t. He was lost in Holly’s magic, woven around him, through him, inside his skin.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ Holly sneered. ‘I’ll get to you in a minute. First we have someone to fetch here. Someone we’re missing. Stay right there. Shan’t be a minute.’

  She waved her hand at them and Izzy let out a shocked gasp. He could see her struggle, but she was helpless as he was, locked in position, held in a web of Holly’s magic.

  ‘What have you done?’

  ‘Me? Silly girl. Don’t you know not to take gifts from strange men?’ She flicked one finger under the pendant at Izzy’s neck. ‘I like you on your knees, Grigori. It’s more fitting, don’t you think?’ Izzy’s legs gave way and she dropped before Holly, who laughed as she turned away, ignoring the girl’s sob of frustration and Jinx’s silent, impotent rage. ‘Meridian? Where are they?’

  Her daughter Meridian, as beautiful as Holly and Silver, as all of them, smiled a cruel smile. ‘Osprey is just rounding them up now.’

  Mist curled around the grass, freezing it where it touched. Dylan pressed against the shadows of the hunting lodge, trying to hide himself and Clodagh. That was how he found the bonfire, a stack of old pallets and bits of furniture, odds and ends gathered together to make an as yet unlit Halloween bonfire.

  But it should have been lit by now, shouldn’t it? Like the thousands blazing in the city below them. Bonfires were as ancient as the land, an old tradition of harvest and spring. A celebration. A sacrifice.

  With a screech like a demon a firework went up, bursting in a shower of scarlet and yellow. Others followed, the city of Dublin throwing fire into the sky.

  A terrible feeling of dread swept over him and he knew he shouldn’t be here, that he shouldn’t be on this hillside, that they should never have split up. Holly was here. It was a trap.

  A thud and a snarl sent Dylan to the ground in a tangle of limbs and teeth as something dark as night slammed into his side. He fought, trying to throw the thing off, but was caught in battle so savage that there wasn’t time. Clodagh screamed his name.

  The figure hoisted him to his feet and dragged him across the grass. He could see Clodagh in the creature’s other hand. His fingers knotted in her hair as he hauled her after them, kicking and struggling, in spite of the futility. The ground turned rougher, pitted with overgrown rocks and banks as they were dragged to the remains of the cairn.

  ‘Enough, Osprey,’ said Holly, her voice coloured with amusement. ‘Don’t kill him. He’s valuable, you know.’ Dylan’s captor dropped him and left him to find to his own feet. The tall Aes Sídhe dressed in shining feathers dusted himself off, preening as he re-joined his mistress.

  Another firework sent shards of blue light through the sky overhead and Holly stood there, watching, her arms folded, her eyes like nails in the night, her mouth a hard line of triumph. Izzy was on her knees, Jinx standing helpless beside her. The Cú Sídhe were imprisoned and angel was gone.

  For help. He had to hope they’d gone for help.

  ‘Here we are.’ She smiled. ‘All alone. Did you think you were going to stop me all by yourselves?’ Her guards spread out of the shadows, mostly Aes Sídhe, cruel and beautiful, sleek predators. Dylan and Clodagh were quickly surrounded. Holly approached them, reaching out to lift Clodagh’s chin, studying her face the way a butcher studies a calf. ‘I’ve never understood how humans work. It doesn’t matter how many I’ve taken apart to find out. Who knows though, maybe you will provide the answer.’

  ‘Leave her alone,’ said Dylan, sounding braver than he felt.

  ‘Welcome, Dylan O’Neill. I’ve been expecting you. Awaiting you, in fact. You’re just in time for the main event. In fact, we couldn’t start without you.’

  ‘Isn’t he just delicious?’ said Meridian, joining her mother and smiling like a vixen in the henhouse. They both eyed him hungrily. ‘All that power in him.’

  ‘All my power,’ said Holly, a note of warning in her tone. ‘And all Silver’s too. Stupid girl. What a colossal mistake. And then she just leaves you wandering around in the dark where … well … anything could happen. If it was me, I’d have you locked up where you’d never see the light of day again. In fact …’ She clicked her fingers and the guards stepped forward.

  Dylan grabbed Clodagh’s wrist. If he darted to the left there was a sort of gap. They might make it though. If he was fast enough, if Clodagh could keep up, because he couldn’t leave her. If he could get to Izzy. If he could just distract—

  ‘Oh, don’t run,’ Holly told them in a bored voice, and started to check her manicure instead. The others stiffened, like hounds on point, ready and eager for the hunt. ‘We’d only have to chase you. And that never ends well.’ She raised her voice, calling over the hillside. ‘Are you here, Lord King?’

  And Eochaid’s voice rippled over the hillside, mocking and laughing, loathsome.

  ‘Come out, little Grigori. It is the appointed place and time. We should end this. Be mine or die. It is time.’

  ‘No,’ Jinx said, the words harsh and guttural, forced through his tight throat. ‘You can’t do this.’

  ‘Jinx, my dearest, surely you know by now I can do whatever I want. Bring him here.’

  Osprey seized Dylan again, throwing him to his knees before Holly and holding him there. His grip felt like metal, fingers digging into Dylan’s skin through his clothes. Holly circled him, studying him with that cool, terrifying gaze. She stopped behind him.

  ‘Now, let’s see how this works,’ she murmured. ‘It may hurt …’ She paused, as if considering that. ‘A lot.’

  She pressed her hands on either side of Dylan’s head, dug her fingers into his hair and scalp, and dived into the well of power inside him.

  Mist rolled up the hillside, filling the last gap in the flames and Eochaid materialised out of the darkness, horribly real. He unsheathed a sword and pointed at Izzy where she knelt in the middle of the shattered cairn.

  ‘It is time.’

  ‘Take her,’ said Holly. ‘She’s yours. Just as I promised.’

  Eochaid reached for her, one clawed hand closing around her neck. He lifted her until her feet left the ground. She hung there, helpless as the King of the Fear pulled her face towards him, his fetid breath washing over her.

  ‘So at last we are here.’ The sword hung from his free hand. He wasn’t even bothered using it. Izzy choked, tried to keep breathing, but his touch robbed her strength. He drained her life, making it his own. She could feel herself fading away, even as he got stronger. She would be the ghost and he would be free.

  ‘No!’ Jinx’s voice came out in a strangled cry. From the corner of her eye, Izzy saw him surge forward, from human form to hound in seconds. He lunged at her, snarling and leaped for them, jaws wide. Eochaid staggered back and Jinx slammed Izzy down to the ground. The air burst from her lungs and she stared up into his face, the growling striped wolf-like creature, a different kind of terror making her blood surge through her like flames.

  He transformed again, her Jinx once more and grabbed the necklace from her neck, breaking the chain. He hurled it away.

  ‘Izzy, remember … remember that I …’

  A black shape in a flurry of wings burst through the air. Osprey grabbed Jinx, and the two of them rolled acros
s the ground in a whirlwind of kicks and punches.

  And in an instant, Izzy could move again. She pushed herself onto her feet. Her bag lay not far away and inside it… inside it … She threw herself for it. But too late, Eochaid moved to intercept.

  A blade of fire burst from her hand. As Eochaid lunged at her, she parried and twisted away.

  Jinx, where was Jinx? She tried to look for him but didn’t dare take her eyes off the king.

  Izzy’s blood sang in her veins, laughed with an unearthly joy she had never known. She knew it wasn’t right, that she shouldn’t be feeling this. She shouldn’t be able to move like this. Training with Dad was one thing, but a few months didn’t make you into a fighter. It certainly didn’t make you into a killer. But she wanted to kill him. She wanted him dead. It didn’t sound like her or indeed feel like her. But her body seemed primed, the moves so easy, so fluid and the energy that coursed through her overwhelmed the small voice of common sense still straining to be heard.

  She couldn’t kill him. She had to remember that. Kill him and the Shining Ones would be out. Kill him and they’d take Jinx and she’d lose him forever. And if she used the Blade to kill, that was all it would do and she’d never be able to help Jinx anyway. She had to think. She just needed a moment to think.

  The sweep of his sword made the air scream. Something tangled around her feet, like mist suddenly turned tangible and she stumbled. Just in time, she brought the Blade up to stop his blow taking her head off. It caught her shoulder as she rolled away and the shock of pain as it cut her made reality slam back into her brain. Hot blood soaked into her shirt.

  She landed heavily, stones biting into her, and saw what else she’d fallen on. Her bag. The strap still twisted around her foot.

  This was real life. What was she doing? No amount of training with Dad had prepared her for this because Dad would never actually hurt her and she knew it. But Eochaid would. Eochaid would enjoy it.

  He lunged towards her. ‘Ready to end this now?’

  She couldn’t answer. She had to focus, to get away from him. She had to—

  He struck and she parried, letting the fiery Blade move for her. And within her she could feel it directing her. The Blade that Cuts, the weapon of angels, one of the oldest weapons there was. It was part of her. She could feel it, sense what it wanted and could move with it, anticipating his movement.

  Her other hand pulled the iron knife from her bag, the bone handle fitting into her left hand flawlessly. She could only use the Blade that Cuts once. But this one … this one was an old friend. She’d thrown it at him once and it hadn’t been able to hurt him. But that was then. He was solid now. Proximity to her, the life – hers and how knew how many others – he’d drained through terror, his feet on this earth, rock strewn and unstable as it was … it made him vulnerable. It wouldn’t be enough to kill him, but she could hurt him. She could drive him off.

  She led with the sword made of flames, but she struck with the knife made of iron.

  Eochaid screamed, a terrible cry that shook the world around them. The knife cut through skin, muscle and sinew. He flung her away with a strength she couldn’t hope to withstand. Izzy fell back, staggering, but keept her footing on the icy stones and grass, taking the moment to regain strength and catch her breath. The cairn shuddered beneath them, rock grinding against rock.

  For a moment the air shook with his scream and then something else took over. The air trembled and with the concussion of a silent detonation, a shockwave bursting around them, they were no longer alone.

  The gate opened and Silver burst through, followed by a group of Cú Sídhe and other fae, an army. The rest of the Fear turned on them, savage on the attack.

  Eochaid moved faster than she thought possible, his sword slicing towards her. She jerked herself back, but not fast enough. Her foot slipped on a stone. The tip of his sword caught her shirt and tore through, sliding across the skin of her stomach beneath.

  ‘Never stop. Go for the kill. If you rest so does your enemy,’ said the king. ‘Didn’t he teach you that one basic lesson?’

  Pain followed, white hot and acidic. She gasped, no time or energy to cry out. Her knees went from under her and she fell.

  ‘Isabel!’ Far off she could hear her someone shouting her name. Dad. How was Dad here?

  Izzy struggled to roll, but made her body move. Sound distorted around her. Her own breathing sounded loud and ragged, almost deafening. ‘Get up, Izzy!’ Dad’s voice, as clear as if he stood beside her. ‘You have to get up or he’ll kill you. Keep moving Izzy. Keep moving!’

  The blade in her hand pulsed with magical fire, warning her, waking her from her dazed state. The energy hummed back into her, stirring up the flames in her blood that came from Brí. The bone handled knife felt so cold.

  Get up. Get up. You have to get up!

  Why wouldn’t her body do as she said? Was it Holly again? It didn’t feel like Sidhe magic. Not this time. This was pain, exhaustion. This was dying. She pushed her hands into the earth and tried to force herself up, but she hurt everywhere, her shoulder and stomach most of all. Why had she ever thought she could do this? She was going to fail. She was going to die.

  Eochaid’s feet crunched the frozen grass as he came nearer. Solid now, so solid, feeding off her death, becoming real as she faded from life.

  ‘You would never have done it,’ he said. ‘You should have just let me drain you and become the ghost I was. But at least when you die, Holly won’t be able to raise Crom. She can’t do it without you.’

  ‘Without me? Why not?’

  ‘You and I are part of it. Always have been. It took our combined efforts – Míl’s and mine – to lay the Shining Ones to rest. And he betrayed me. Such are the ways of mankind. To me. To the Sídhe. To yourselves. So it will take our combined blood to free them again.’

  He reached down and picked her up, his hand around her throat again. A solid grip, she couldn’t escape. ‘Look at them.’ He swept his other hand towards the battle around them. ‘Do you know why the Grigori hid the Sídhe? Why they built Dubh Linn and separated the fae from the humans?’

  She waited for the answer. She didn’t have breath to form words and he’d give it anyway. And it hurt too much to speak. Her soul ached, thin and stretched too far inside her. She was a bag of skin and bones, and he would drain every scrap of energy from her.

  ‘To protect the Sídhe,’ he whispered, his voice soft as a lover. ‘Look at all humankind has done – your weapons, your knowledge, your lust for bloody devastation. Can you imagine if the world at large found out about them? About their beauty, and their talents, their devious nature and terrible deeds … The world is going to find out, Isabel Gregory. I’m going to show them. I’m going to unleash my army of ghosts on the human world and the fae with it. What we did in Dublin this evening was just a taste. We’ll feed on them all. No more hiding. No more imprisonment. And the fae can take the blame.’

  Over his shoulder she could see the Sídhe who had arrived through the gate. They hated the Fear and came with weapons ready, holding Eochaid’s troops back. Silver was there, moving like a queen at the head of an army, beautiful and terrible. She saw other faces she knew – angel, demon and fae …

  But she couldn’t see Jinx. She couldn’t see him anywhere.

  If the Fear attacked the human world, so many people would die or go insane. And it would only get worse.

  She could imagine what the world would do if they found out about the Sídhe, things none of the fae would believe – hunt them, prostitute them, experiment on them, dissect them, destroy them.

  What it always did to something it didn’t understand.

  She couldn’t let that happen. Finally she understood why Dad and Gran had tried to teach her so many of those old stories. Finally.

  But Eochaid didn’t care about keeping the otherworld secret. He wanted to see everything burn. She couldn’t let him. But she only had one way left to stop him.

  ‘N
o,’ she whispered and reached out a hand, her fingers splaying against the rotten finery of his robes.

  He froze, staring at her in bewilderment.

  Take the weapon. Make it yours. That’s what Donn had meant.

  Kill him.

  She could only use it once. Use it to heal or use it to kill. Kill him and the Shining Ones would be free to take possession of Jinx, loose in the world with only Holly to control them. But if she didn’t kill Eochaid, it was over for all of them. For the human world, for Dubh Linn and all its inhabitants. They’d know everything, and destroy it all. War was coming, no matter what. That was the sacrifice he spoke of. That was what she had to give up. It had to have value or it was worth nothing. She had to give up everything. And everything was Jinx.

  ‘No,’ she said again, and let the blade go. Something no one thought she would do. You didn’t release the Blade that Cuts. You didn’t let it have its own will. But she did. She let go, let it decide what it was, what it would do. And she hated herself for that. It shot forward from her hand right into his chest, light exploding inside him, not a sword, but a bomb.

  It wanted to kill.

  Trade one evil for another, maybe. Face the danger here now before her, rather than the danger down the road. Hope and pray that she was right, and trust. Trust Jinx, because that was all she had.

  The Shining Ones might be worse, but they weren’t here yet and Eochaid was. The Fear had to be stopped now. ‘Cut off the head and the rest will fall’ Donn had said. She just prayed he was right.

  The King of the Fear flung her away from him, but too late, far too late.

  Izzy crashed onto the ground as Eochaid flailed backwards and burst into flames.

  Izzy staggered as she rose, head reeling; the king fell, the fire consuming him joining Holly’s barrier holding back the others. The blaze drenched the hilltop in heat and infernal light.

  Dylan was on his knees, helpless while Holly held his head in her hands, channelling power from him. His face strained in agony, mouth and eyes wide, a silent scream as he twisted beneath her touch.