Silver Hollow

by Jennifer Silverwood

  “Is this it?” she deadpanned.

  “You have to actually look, ye ken…”

  With a shrug Amie turned down her grin and obeyed. Almost instantly her eyes caught the details she’d missed. Frozen rain had given the leaves a crisp curl and this was not just a creepy enchanted forest. There were layers to this place, Amie decided, which, if studied carefully, turned into a natural cathedral.

  As if they had been called by magic, they came with the sound of bells. Faeries, tinier than the ones from Periwinkle’s garden suddenly appeared flying in swarms so thick she could feel the pulse of their nixy.

  “Emrys?” Her voice sounded distant to her own ears. Was it the effect of the rains? The air was much cooler than it had been even yesterday. Amie hadn’t expected autumn to come so quickly, especially as the leaves were always an unnatural black shade of green. When she turned her head to find him she bit her lip and called out, “Emrys?”

  The faeries scattered at the sound of her voice, winking out of existence, and one thing was for certain. She was alone.

  He can’t be too far away. I swear if he’s just trying to freak me out, I’m going to nix his pale arse back to America.

  With a forced laugh, she called out, “Okay, very funny! I’m convinced. You’ve got some wicked awesome Robin Hood skills.”

  Amie paced through the underbrush, almost tripped on a stray root and kicked it back. “Stupid trees,” she grumbled, then noticed the endless ring of faerie lights dancing in the distance. Shivering, Amie sought for shelter. She stepped cautiously around a perfect ring of silvery mushrooms. Twisting her father’s ring around her finger in a nervous gesture, she tried not to panic.

  “It’s all good, Wenderdowne. This is all just a test, a really stupid, cruel test!” The last she spoke loud and clear in case he was nearby. He had to be nearby, hadn’t he? He was her protector and a whole string of explicatives Amie wouldn’t bother naming out loud. Her anger grew with each passing cadence of the faeries’ song.

  With every step she took off the path Emrys led her through, her panic increased. Amie knew too well how easy it was to get lost in the woods and how dangerous. People went crazy in places like this. Already Amie could see herself in a shabby version of her dress, skin caked with mud and twigs in her hair, scavenging for berries. She gripped both sides of her head and breathed. “Whoa, not helping…”

  During the following hours, as teatime and lunchtime passed with the turn of the sun, Amie tripped at least twelve times.

  Not because I’m a vampire-loving awkward chick with a marble fetish.

  Only her pride kept her from shouting out threats at Emrys. By this point Amie was so mad she loathed herself for trusting him. Had he orchestrated this whole thing? Was he playing them all along? What for? To lead her out in the middle of the woods after supposedly helping her, so he could leave her to fester with the mulch at her feet.

  “Wait till I get a hold of him…”

  Whatever romantic notions Amie had imagined in those charged moments their nixies clashed was washed away by the reality of a hard rain currently soaking through her flexible corset and shift beneath it. Amie had the luck of finding a hollowed-out tree trunk big enough to squeeze inside of. It was oddly devoid of the usual insects. Back home she would have run into a hornets’ nest, a mound of fire ants or worse a rattlesnake’s den.

  But here in jolly old England we have the finest bug-free accommodations money can buy!

  She laughed to herself, mind replaying the events of this past week to forget her body was going numb with cold and throat swelling with unbroken sobs. Beyond the natural shelter, the clouds broke loose their fury till even the forest couldn’t shield the world below. The faerie lights had dimmed, their songs faded and without a doubt she knew she was totally alone.

  I can’t believe I came here without telling anyone!

  Amie blinked through the haze of her thoughts and the constant drum of the rains. A golden light swung back and forth in the distance like a pendulum and every second drew closer. Finally, Amie could tell it wasn’t a faerie light but a lantern, carried by a small green-cloaked person.

  She held her breath, uncertain as to why she should be afraid. Her trembling fingers clutched her skirts in a bone-white grip and she wondered if she should stay hidden. The mysterious figure found her first. Lantern light blinded her eyes, its enclosed warmth suddenly at her feet, and the voluminous hooded creature watched on. She could feel those piercing eyes even if she couldn’t see what hid inside the cloak.

  A strong clear feminine voice called out with a crook of a finger. “You are soaked to the bone, dear. Come, before it is too late!”

  Amie saw a flash of aquamarine orbs as the lantern revealed its mistress again. When Amie crawled out of her cave, she stood at least a head taller than the strange little woman. Momentarily lost to the ache and chill of her bones, she was surprised to see the creature didn’t wait for her to keep up.

  “Come!” the woman beckoned.

  A bushel full of fresh questions filled her and might have escaped if Amie’s jaw wasn’t clenched to keep from chattering. Most upsetting was no matter how quickly she walked, Amie could barely keep up. The thought crossed her mind more than once.

  What the heck is this chick walking alone in the woods at night for?

  As if she could hear Amie’s thoughts the woman said, “You are the Lady of the House, are you not?” The crystalline voice sounded disembodied, echoing off the trees, the rain itself. “I have heard much of your coming as the trees created quite a stir.” She added, “My name is Dameri.”

  A strange feeling passed over Amie as she listened to the smooth, almost familiar voice.

  Dameri twisted the lantern to hover betwixt them, continuing, “I already know your name. I told you we heard of your coming, yes? You should not be wandering these woods alone, Jessamiene Wenderdowne.” With grave foreboding, she said, “He did not tell you what dwells in the shadows. It was the ring that marked and saved you…and your eyes, of course.”

  Of course. Amie rolled the aforementioned eyes.

  Amie didn’t recognize any of the paths they took. She was too exhausted by this point to care if the woman led her off the edge of a cliff. Dameri paused the moment the trees began to thin and something of the countryside could be found again. Amie turned to face her, shivering, and the strange woman laughed.

  “You know you would feel better if you would simply fix it. You have the gift. I thought you might have used it by now.”

  Amie didn’t want to think about Emrys and his teachings at the moment, but she was sort of dealing with the effects of hypothermia by this point. Seeing as the idgit tried to kill her, the least she could do was use his own lessons and thwart his plans. Closing her eyes, she concentrated until she could almost see the burning coal smoking deeply within her. Amie plunged herself in its warmth, felt it grow from a coal into comforting flames and felt immensely better.

  Dameri’s next statement nearly threw her train of thought for a triple loop. “Tonight is the perfect night to catch gremlins, so I’ll be off now. Keep walking straight until you reach the edge of your pasture lands, milady.”

  Opening her eyes and her mouth to thank her new friend, Amie found herself standing alone at the edge of the clearing and threw up her hands. “Doesn’t anyone come and go normally here?”

  …

  The chill was melted with each pound of her heart as she broke the cursed tree line and ran to the stables. Eddie’s nightly watch had already begun, with his lantern, a beacon Amie gravitated to gladly.

  On every other occasion their paths crossed, she had avoided his blue-eyed stare. Now Amie willingly dashed into the cavernous structure of his domain. Like every other time, he sat on his short stool, working on some odd but necessary project, dressed in breeches, oversized boots and a brown overcoat.

  Slaine must not have brought him his dinner yet, was her fleeting thought as she tripped and braced her fall with her m
ud-stained hands. Amie had a strong idea of how she must look, a heap of rain-plastered clothes, her mane featuring more leaves and twigs than hair. After her evening spent in the hollow of a tree, she was enough a stranger that Eddie leapt up in alarm, faster than she had seen him move the entire visit. Boundless energy charged the air before Amie lifted her chin to look at him.

  Eddie’s arm was reared back, his hammer in hand and a cry on his lips.

  Chapter 26

  Forbidden Friendships

  “Don’t shoot!” Amie threw up her hands, stumbled and landed smack on her derrière. “I mean…wait! It’s me, Amie!” She choked on her own words, flung her hair off her face in time to watch the steel hammer pause mere inches from her cheek.

  The lantern above them swung on its hook, cast peculiar shadows over his strong features. With his cap pulled over his mop of ginger hair, it had been difficult to note his features before. His nose was straight and long but not overpowering his round, evenly spaced blue eyes. His strong golden eyebrows twitched then relaxed.

  Now that Amie could see him up close she realized he couldn’t possibly be younger than her. Perhaps it was his slightly curling hair which made him look so much younger? It fell into his eyes, squashed down by his gray weather-stained cap. His shoulders were square and sharp beneath his coat, broad in the way hard labor broke a stone figure of a man’s mold. His frame shivered with the effort to knock back some of his adrenaline rush. No one with such a young face should have such cold, ancient eyes. The fire in those eyes dulled considerably the moment he recognized her. A flicker of annoyance passed through them for her appraisal.

  Without a word his lips pursed together. Hooking the hammer to his belt, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her up against him. Amie gasped at the burn his touch sent straight to the scar on her chest. Eddie grimaced but continued to lead her past his scattered work station and deeper into the stables.

  On a quick glance, she spotted her horse, Jellybean, in his stall beside Ambrose. Horses, cattle and a few small sheep brayed from this well-known part of the stables. But then Eddie walked right up to the wall, the wall, where she often saw lights shining from its high windows and heard the oddest of sounds on rainy nights. Pressing his palm to a jutting piece of wood, he twisted it. The snap and shift of locks and gears filled their ears. Transfixed by the sliding door, she didn’t see Eddie observe her reaction with the faintest trace of bemusement. The moment the door cracked open he pushed through, hand still supporting Amie’s waist.

  No candles or lanterns lit the inside of this vast cavern, but strange beacons hovered in rows down the many bridges. Here was a cave beneath the hill, one possibly stretching far into the forest beyond, and somehow it was much bigger than she had expected. Already she could hear the abnormal roars and grunts that kept her from spending too much time near the stables and tried to follow the source of the cacophony until Eddie Cutterworthy nudged her gently to the side.

  In this first part of the cave, wood had been laid down over stone, branching into what seemed a glowing round-topped cabin built against the wall. Never once did he let go, continuing the slow burning sensation crawling up Amie’s skin. Once they made it past the circular door, she began to wonder if there really were such things as hobbits.

  Maybe Tolkien got stuck here on holiday once…would explain a lot.

  What initially seemed miniscule was in fact a spacious apartment filled with warmth though none of the grandeur of the castle. Eddie only let her go to set her in a large rocking chair by an empty fire pit. Then he went to work, wrestling the coals from their ashen slumber, piling on the kindling and freshly cut wood, breathing the sparks back to life. For a moment his hair seemed to glow a bright copper, his skin glowed and from the tips of his fingers sparks dripped and caught the wood with magical flame. All this he did without a glance for her. Still the boy gave Amie the oddest feeling of being watched even when his eyes were focused anywhere but.

  In silence he waited until the flames fanned brighter, higher. When he did look at her again he carried the heat of the fire within his blue eyes, glanced over her wet form and grimaced. Then Eddie did the one thing Amie had never expected, or heard once before.

  He spoke. “You should take off your clothes, unless you want to die in them.” His voice was deep but still young and so matter-of-fact it was chilling. Amie froze.

  Undress in front of the creepiest guy I’ve met so far?

  Amie started when his eyes lifted briefly to hers, dark and emotionless, empty, and knew there was no argument here. With a half-hearted grin, she said, “I can make my own heat, thanks.”

  “It’s not good enough,” he said.

  The full force of Eddie’s attention was a bewitching thing, Amie decided. It pierced through you and grabbed at something compelling you to obey. Against her better judgment she found herself agreeing.

  “Okay, but could you turn around at least? You’re making me nervous.”

  He didn’t laugh with her, didn’t shrug, only turned back to the fire, hunched over his bent knees, and waited. Amie’s fingers trembled as she fumbled over the buttons at the back of her dress. She’d mastered the art of hooking the row herself over the last two weeks. Numb fingers were useless, however, wore at her patience because the hooks were soaked through and clung to each button. After her third frustrated attempt she stamped her foot and apparently wore out Cutterworthy’s patience too.

  Glancing up at her from behind his auburn bangs, he rose and came behind her. Her hands fell lifeless at her sides while he unhooked her buttons for her far faster than she could have. The heat from his hands now pressed to her back from the space between them. His breath brushed the back of her neck, making her shiver. She pulled her thick wet locks over her shoulder, picked the twigs and leaves to keep her mind from the track of his touch. Lower, just to the end of her waist coat, above her backside, he fumbled and moved aside so quickly she was unprepared for the cold air left in his wake. Coming round to face her, he pulled the fabric over her shoulders and down her arms where it clung stubbornly.

  Amie stared at him curiously, wondering why he said nothing, why she said nothing when her big fat mouth was infamous in her home town. The quiet did not seem forced, but natural, as much a part of him as his ridiculous woolen cap. She wanted him to look at her again now, to reconcile the difference she felt in him when he was apart from everyone else.

  What he did next broke whatever spell she imagined he had, because he threw her coat on top of the fire. Sparks flew up the brick chimney, high above to a metal-lined hole sticking out of the hill itself, illuminating their tiny world.

  “What the heck do you think you’re doing? That wasn’t even my coat, you know.” She dashed past him to save the fabric but he barred the way with his hard chest. “Ouch!” After bouncing off the button of his coat she lifted her chin to look at him.

  When did he get so tall?

  He was waiting for her with an eerily brilliant smile on his face, eyes still devoid of feeling. “It was ruined. The faerie leaves you rolled in out there do be lethal to hobgoblins.”

  Amie’s eyes widened and she took a step back. “Excuse me?” Only because the last forty-eight hours were still very real in her mind did she not laugh. It wasn’t logical to not believe the impossible anymore.

  He pointed to her skirts. “Better get rid of those too. Throw them in the fire. I’ll get you something else.” As he turned Amie reached out to stop him and hesitated just shy of his arm.

  “Do I have to throw away my underwear too?” she asked.

  Eddie’s grin was a mile wide. It split his face in two and this time nearly reached his eyes. Instead of answering his brow rose, and with a glance for the raging flames, he left for another room.

  She made quick work of her clothes until she stood naked, save her shift. For a modernista of the twenty-first century, Amie felt seriously over-exposed. She wondered why she was listening to Eddie Cutterworthy of all people, the one person in
the Hollow she had made an effort to keep away from. Once again her thoughts turned to Emrys…stupid idgit…and blamed him for getting her into this mess.

  “Henry better get back a.s.a.p. because either we’re going to have some serious words, or he may find himself with one less guardian for hire.” She jumped out her skin when Eddie came from behind her with a pile of clothes in his arms.

  “This should do.” His eyes took in the sight before him, because he was male even if he wasn’t technically human. Amie tried not to notice as she slipped the fabric at once over her shift. Though it cinched snugly at her waist and the sleeves were a bit short, the dress was an ideal match. She frowned as she pulled the striped stockings up her thighs. These were similar to the maid uniform except the green stripes were faded and the style subtly different. Amie wondered why Eddie would own woman’s clothes at all and eyed him from beneath her lashes as he held his hands out to the fire.

  He doesn’t look like a cross-dresser.

  What remained of her clothes was melted in a sudden fit of multicolored flames. When nothing but ashes remained, the tea kettle sounded.

  There was no gold and silver here, no elaborate mosaic or tapestries adorned its walls like the castle. Instead every piece of furniture and accent had been hand-carved a time apart. What caught her eye was the mantel above the hearth, great bat-like wings wrapped around it, forbidding and enveloping at once. Pure artistry, the former art major mused within her.

  Eddie brought all the usual ingredients in on an ornately carved wooden tray. “How many gooseberries you want in your tea?” His accent was so peculiar, closer to Slaine’s brogue yet not as crass, so distracting to her, he had to repeat himself. Annoyance flickered in his eyes again before it was beaten back down.

  “Two, please,” she said, taking the cup shoved beneath her nose. She drank nervously while he merely watched, hands folded beneath his chin. The tea was perfect of course. Gooseberry was the sweetest thing Amie had tasted in her life, hands down. She was convinced they could market this and sell it if they wanted to.