Hollows of the Nox

by Matthew E Nordin

  All would be revealed from the pages of the book that smoldered in Sayeh’s blood and in his mind. He could not ignore its power. He had to see the book again. He had to meet the source behind the voice creeping in the corners of his mind. The voice that gave him the power to heal Sayeh. The voice that, if he listened intently, whispered to him now.

  “At the middle of the day, the light is full. In the middle of the night, we are full. Seek us to find us. A worthy man of the book. You understand us. You can bring us here. Free us. We wait for you. When the moon peaks. When the harvest is ripe. Reap the rewards we have for you. Find us as we found you. In time, all comes to clarity. We wait, we watch, we are prepared.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The bookshop seemed to peer back at him, waiting to receive its guest like it knew he was coming. An unknown aura hung around it.

  “Is this truly what I want?” he whispered to the old building.

  Although the voice was terrifying, it knew about the fae, perhaps it was part of the magic in the forest. The fae had been his desire, his drive for knowledge since he learned of them. Their unearthly ways surpassed those of the elves and humans alike. They spoke to the elements, and the elements listened.

  Eldritch pushed on the door, ready to unlock it. It creaked open without the key.

  The room sat dark with no candle or smell of a recent flame. He paused, letting his senses adjust to the dank room. The scent of the ancient books filled his nostrils in a euphoric way. The nostalgia of years lost between their pages. Secrets none had seen for decades, centuries.

  Even with the aid of his herbal blend, the totality of night made it hard to see anything at all. He would navigate by memory. The wooden floor gave its groans of weight upon it. The oldest boards could be avoided. He remembered those.

  Moving like a shadow through the building, he made his way to the back wall. As he came upon the shelf leading to the underground passage, his hand slipped forward. It had been pushed back already.

  He gasped.

  “Who’s in here?” he whispered into the abyss.

  Not the slightest breeze or shifting of temperature gave him an indication to what might be lurking in the recesses of the building, only darkness. He stretched his legs into the opening and hunched over, stepping farther into the passageway he dreamed of since discovering it.

  The silence was aggressive. His ears wanted to hear the boiling book or the creaking of the ceiling heating and cooling above the chamber. He tried to steady his heartbeat and held his breath to listen, but the complete silence of the room amplified every sound.

  He reached into his bag and slid his fingers across the waxy surface of the small candle he brought. He stopped.

  Whatever entered before him could still be down there. Maybe it too was blind in the dark and waiting for a glimmer of light to show where to attack.

  He trembled and stalked forward.

  At last, his outstretched hands found the old wood of the center table. He ran his fingers through the ash and dried blood where the ceiling had collapsed. It hardened into a crust and then, nothing.

  The book was gone.

  Whoever opened the shelves must have taken it and ran out.

  “What now?” he asked the empty room. “Where are you when I am seeking you?”

  The voice that once directed him gave not the slightest hint as to where the book could be. In fact, he almost felt it mocking him from beyond the shadows, watching in amusement at his foolishness. He had to be certain it was gone.

  He quickly drew his knife and flicked it across a piece of flint. The flash of light from it made him stumble back. The candle’s wick ignited and glowed brightly into the room, to his dismay.

  The book he once had within his grasp was nowhere to be found.

  He pounded his fist on the indentation where the book used to be. There had to be something useful he could use. Something like the other book of plants that could increase his powers.

  His gaze fell across some open papers on the shelf beside the table, a map of the area north by the sea.

  Although the old diagram was missing some roads, it had markings across the area where the fairy forest lay. As if someone had tried to discover the secret to entry into the fairy realm or maybe even succeeded.

  Eldritch traced his fingers over the intersecting lines along the border of the trees. He rolled up the map and stuffed it into a nearby case. Another book flipped open when he pulled the strap out from under it. It too contained spells and unusual patterns of words. In fact, each book he looked through held hidden secrets too powerful for an untrained eye.

  He sighed. Too much knowledge.

  There was no way to keep them all in his bag let alone memorize them. And he knew the lure of the dark book bent his destiny down a greater path.

  “It is a shame to keep these hidden,” he said to himself. “Maybe others could find a use for them.”

  He sorted through the ancient parcels containing charms and spells to find ones small enough to fit in his bag. Some of them were so decrepit, they crumbled in his hand. Their tattered pieces fell onto the ruble of discarded books forming around the areas where he rummaged.

  Through the ruffling of pages and the beating of his heart, a strange noise echoed down the stairs. Although faint, he’d heard it before―when he pulled Sayeh out of the broken floor. Her conscious was somehow reaching out for his.

  Her cry repeated in his mind. A cry of surprise and terror. He could almost see her in his mind’s eye, waiting for him at her home. She needed him.

  He emerged from the passage and slid the entrance closed.

  The darkness no longer hindered him as he ran outside. It drove him in the direction to Sayeh’s home, pushing him faster through the shadows.

  Chapter Six

  Eldritch stopped to catch his breath when he reached Sayeh’s house. His lungs burned as he looked inside the windows. No light came from within, but strange shadows peaked around the corners of the house from behind. The shapes of trees reached toward him with an evil intensity.

  Eldritch’s body shook from the adrenaline and the sense of dread coursing through his veins. He hoped to find Sayeh in the small grove behind the home.

  There she was, looming over a book in the middle of the violent flickering of a candle ring. Her face twisted with terror and excitement. The same silk robe she wore from their night in the cellar had been shredded into strips like ribbons. Her skin shone through the thin scraps of fabric in the moonlight.

  Eldritch moved closer but stopped at the glint of a blade. Sayeh pressed the edge of a knife to her hand. It pierced her skin and cut deep inside the flesh. She clenched her teeth through the apparent pain.

  Her cheeks ran with tears, but her hand did not run with blood. She muttered something through her grunts of pain. A scar bubbled open and spewed blood onto a piece of parchment next to the book she read from.

  The book. The one missing from before. She stole it.

  The dark tree on the cover wrapped around the bloody paper while its roots entered the ground, leaving rings of dead grass wherever they touched.

  “He will come, he will obey,” Sayeh chanted. “Our love will never fester or bleed.”

  The scar on her hand smoked until it completely boiled off. Her skin looked new when the white smoke lifted away.

  “Sayeh?” Eldritch stammered and stepped into the candlelight. “What is this?”

  “You’re here?” Her eyes did not meet with his. “Are you really here? Who are you?”

  “It’s me, Eldritch. What are you doing?”

  “The shadows, they have freed me. They have freed us. Our love will not be held back now. See how my leg is free?” She moved the shards of silk to show him the fresh skin. The horrid scar no longer marred her leg. It glistened softly in the candles’ glow. “Come, feel it, feel me.”

  The flames reflected in her eyes as her hair hung wildly around her face like the strips of her once whole robe.

  “
We can’t, not here.” Eldritch glance at the large window of her parent’s house directly behind them. “Let’s go somewhere private.”

  “There is no one here.” She moaned softly.

  “Where are they?” Eldritch tried to look into her eyes again, but she kept looking down to the book. “Sayeh, where are your parents?”

  “They are no longer with us.” Her glare struck Eldritch like the knife that pierced her hand. “I had to be free of the scar. It was the only way. They were holding us back anyway. I knew they didn’t want us together.” She looked over her shoulder. “They were cruel and deserved it.”

  Eldritch gasped at the charred remains on the grass. The size of two bodies.

  “Sayeh, they were your parents!”

  “Our love is unhindered. We can be together forever, with my new friends.”

  Eldritch covered his mouth to keep from heaving. He’d read of dark spells consuming and destroying someone’s thoughts, a never-ending thirst for more power and corruption, driving one mad in a wake of bodies.

  “She does not understand,” the voice returned to Eldritch’s mind. “She hinders what we could be, what you are capable of. Do not listen to her. She lies. She is a killer.”

  The flames of the candles twirled in small circles.

  “Look at it.” She pointed to the paper. “Look what I have made for us, we will live forever now. Together in love.”

  The spots of blood faded into the background as the paper grew larger. The bottom of the page stretched toward his feet, scorching the ground beneath him. Eldritch tried to flee but was being pulled into a trance.

  Words from the spell began to wrap around his mind. It would take over him like he had taken over the other man’s mind with the rope. Escaping such a dark spell would take a skilled mage or a more complex pattern of magic.

  A phrase deep inside Eldritch came out of his mouth. A spell in an ancient tongue he remembered grabbing in the cellar. He could secure his own will and block it from any spell or caster that tried to invade.

  He smiled. He could use this ability to control the force of the dark book. They could not command him or tell him what to do, no one would again. The voices knew nothing of this spell, he hoped.

  His mind cleared while the pages finished wrapping around him.

  The solid ground became like liquid as he slipped into an engulfing darkness. His mind swam under the surface of the earth and pulled his body along. As one would peel off the blankets from a long rest, he removed the shadows and reformed to the physical realm.

  Reaching into his pouch, he grabbed a handful of the powder he used on his parents. It would force anyone to sleep if consumed. It was less than he hoped but enough for him to escape.

  Sayeh faced the cocoon of pages that formed around him earlier. It twitched in confusion. She turned as he was almost upon her. Her eyes regained their focus.

  “Eldritch, is that you? What happened? I feel as if I was dreaming. When did you get here?”

  His hand moved up to her mouth while she spoke, spilling part of the mixture on the ground. Her confused look slumped down into an expressionless state. She closed her eyes and wilted to the ground.

  “I’m sorry Sayeh.” He wiped his hands on her robe. “I do love you, and I will return for you.” He bent down and kissed her forehead. “Someday.”

  He whispered a prayer for her safety to whatever might be listening. But on that night, the only presence listening waited with an open cover at the center of the candles. Eldritch picked up the dark book and set out for Caetheal―the border city to the fae.

  ~ ~ ~

  No one recognized Eldritch on the path to Caetheal and hopefully, no one would when he arrived. He used the maps he found to guide him along the old roads. Although they were overgrown, they were less traveled and brought less chance of robberies.

  He laughed.

  No one would be that foolish to rob him. They would meet a fitting end with the spells he carried.

  He looked deep into the small fire he had created for warmth. There was less than a day’s journey left to Caetheal. Although he could construct a spell to keep him immune to the cooler night air, he enjoyed the fire.

  The flames mimicked his burning thoughts. He could not return to Raikrune. Sayeh was likely accused of murder, and his parents would never understand. He hoped he traveled faster than the news of his disappearance and the victims on Sayeh's farm.

  “Those farmers talk,” he said to himself. “That's all they do. I need to become someone else. Someone like Grinley.”

  He smiled at the thought of the elf. Surely he too could create a potion or spell to change his appearance. A simple enough incantation would likely be in the first few chapters of the dark book. Yet, he hadn't opened it. It remained hidden inside the inner linings of his vest.

  “I need to steel my mind. Then I can steal the powers.”

  He fumbled through the other book of herbs, pulling from it the items necessary for the concoction to transform his body. The plants dissolved together in the vial of water produced at the last page and he drank the bitter liquid. It did not burn or turn sour in his stomach. The sharp spices expanded inside of him, changing his throat and tongue. A metamorphosis of his vocal cords.

  His hand swelled when he rubbed his throat.

  “I hope I measured enough,” his voice changed to a deeper pitch.

  He did not want it to wear off without warning or stay longer than he planned. Although he told Sayeh he would return, he doubted it would happen. Sayeh would likely wait for him, if she had not run away. Perhaps she followed him.

  He ran his hands through his hair that continued to grow longer. For now, he needed to press on. Leave behind his thoughts of Raikrune and focus on the town ahead of him.

  ~ ~ ~

  The town of Caetheal seemed to float before him in ways he heard about but could never imagine. Architectural wonders were strung together by some sort of invisible wire holding them aloft. Each building he passed was more fanciful than the one before it.

  Even in his disguise, the best way of not being seen would be to act like the commoners of the town. But this proved difficult as the people were dressed in different collaborations of cultures more wonderful than he found in his readings. Such whimsical displays only possible through fae disguises and tricks.

  “I say, you’re dressed for a funeral procession aren’t you?” a lady wearing a large brassier of fish scales and a furred dress said. She stepped away and studied him with her gaze.

  “Apologies, my lady,” Eldritch said and brushed his long hair back. “I am looking for lodging. Where would be a good place to have an extended stay?”

  “You’ll want to follow this road farther in, turn at the statue toward the cathedral, and follow that road past it until you get to the showroom. You should find what you’re looking for there. If you are looking for anything that is. But if not, I’m sure you'll find something there you fancy.” The lady laughed and turned to ogle the fresh pastries in the shop behind her.

  She looked back one last time at Eldritch. He tried to smile, but his grin felt more sinister than friendly.

  “What do I look like?” he muttered to himself.

  In the transfusion, he didn’t have the ability to see how he had changed. He hoped he resembled a human and slipped the cloak over his head.

  He needed to blend in somewhere else.

  The alleyways of the city had plenty of shade for him to use his cloak’s ability to become one with the dark places. He didn’t want to raise any more suspicion, and he was starting to prefer the solitude of the darkness.

  He turned off the road into an alley. The shadows melded with his cloak, causing him to slip in and out of sight. If anyone saw him, it would be like a glance out of the corner of their eye. With phantom speed he moved to the cathedral, slipping farther away from the main path.

  “Such places as these are not for slinking into,” a voice whispered beside him.

  Eld
ritch wheeled around to see another man who stood in the shadows, fading in and out of his vision. His cloak had similar markings on it.

  “I am curious,” the stranger continued. “Where did you receive your cloak? The craftsmanship is weak at best, but it has powerful enchantments on it.”

  “It is my own creation.” Eldritch proudly stepped out to show his work.

  “Interesting. I assumed you had stolen it from one of us.”

  “And who are you exactly?” Eldritch said more to himself than to the stranger.

  The shadows bulged with hoods. More cloaked figures stepped in full view while others peered out from under their shaded covers.

  “Travelers like yourself, I assume.” The man paced as he spoke. “Forgive me for not introducing myself, but I fear you will not get that luxury. You see, you are in for all sorts of disappointment today.” The shadows around Eldritch erupted with more of the hooded men, surrounding him. “It is nothing personal. I admire your craft. We rarely find others who travel from the western ports, but when we do, they often travel in the shadows to carry large amounts of treasures with them. Treasures they try to hide from the petty thieves who lurk about these parts.”

  Eldritch wanted to run but the way the man studied him, it would end in disaster. He had to have something that could help him escape. His mind went blank.

  “So, you’re not thieves?” he said, trying to remember a spell, any spell.

  “Oh yes, we are thieves―just not petty ones.” The man’s laughter caused those around him to jeer as well. “If you would be kind enough to remove any valuables you may be carrying, we assure you your passage from here will be safe. If you will not be so kind, neither will we.”

  The other thieves pulled daggers and other weapons out of the shadows that concealed their forms.

  Eldritch glared as he slipped his hand into his pouch. He had a powerful enough spell to stop all of them. . . somewhere.

  “Let’s keep your hands in front of you so we can see them.” The stranger rested his hand on the sword dangling from his belt. “We wouldn’t want you doing anything foolish.”