The Hollow: At The Edge (30 page)

“I didn’t think so
either at first. But now, I think he just convinces himself he
doesn’t care, so he can keep doing all the things he has to do. But
he isn’t like that. Not really.”

“You know, if I had
known people were picking on you, I’d have broken their arm
too.”

“No you wouldn’t,”
replied Mouse flatly.

“Yes, I would,” Serrel
insisted. “I would have definitely walked up to them and punched
them in the face.”

“No. You wouldn’t have.
That’s not who you were.” She sighed. “If I had had any sense, I’d
have done it myself. But I was too busy trying not to attract
attention. Trying not to be afraid of my own shadow. I should have
set a few people on fire, then I could have saved myself a lot of
bother.”

“Uh, Mouse... You did
set a few people on fire.”

“Oh. That’s right. I
did.” She smiled at the memory. “It was
fun
.”

Serrel resisted the
urge to take a step away from her. “But my point still stands. If
you don’t want to go ahead with this, you don’t have to. You don’t
have to do it for my sake, or Victor’s sake. Do you really want to
do this?”

Mouse thought about it.
“You know what, Serrel? I do. I really do. And if the elves get in
our way, I’m going to kill them. I think they deserve to die, don’t
you?”

A few days ago, Serrel
had disagreed. Taking a life the first time had been sickening. But
he thought about the soldiers, ripped apart and eaten alive. The
camp site, blackened and littered with bodies. Holly Wells with a
sword stuck right through her. Tentacles ripping ships to pieces
and dragging people down into the sea.

“Yes,” he agreed, the
rage simmering inside. “They do. They all do.”

Mouse nodded in
understanding.

Then a hand landed on
his shoulder, and made him jump.

“Bloody hell, Victor!”
Serrel snapped. “Stop doing that!”

“Two words, Serrel:
situational awareness,” replied Victor. “Really, you have to be the
jumpiest person I have ever met.”

“Victor, I’m serious.
Get a bell.”

“I think that would
defeat the whole purpose of being stealthy.” He looked from one of
them to the other. “How are you two doing?”

Mouse shot Serrel a
knowing look that said,
See
?

“We’re fine,” she
replied. “Serrel’s worrying as usual, but we’re both ready for
what’s coming. You?”

Victor shrugged. “I was
made for this sort of thing.”

“You aren’t the
slightest bit nervous?” asked Serrel.

For a moment, it seemed
like Victor was going to say something else, but instead, “No. It
is what it is. I didn’t join the Legion for the food. Speaking of
which, I’m going to see if there’s anything left to eat, then get
some sleep. You two should do the same.”

“We will,” said Mouse.
“Have you talked to Kaitlin yet?”

“I’ll...” Victor said
slowly. “I’ll see her when this is over.”

“But this might be the
last chance you get.”

“In that case, maybe
it’s better that I don’t see her. I mean, when we last spoke, we
ended it well enough.”

“You gave her a knife,
and then you ran off when we weren’t looking,” Serrel reminded
him.

“I gave her my
best
knife, and then I retreated before things got awkward.”
He shook his head. “I’d just mess things up for her,” he said
unexpectedly.

That surprised the
other two.

Mouse tried, “You
know-”

“I’m tired,” Victor cut
her off. “I’ll see you both in the morning.”

He went off without
another word.

Mouse sighed loudly.
“You see what I mean?” she said. She slapped the end of her staff
in her palm pointedly. “They can be so
aggravating
.”

“I know, Mouse,” Serrel
patted her shoulder consolingly. “I know.”

Part 6
: To Leap, or to
Fall.

The elf called Vharaes
stood on the very top of the fortress tower, looking out over the
black and unlit city below, seemingly oblivious to the wind and
rain, as well as the forks of lightning that could have cooked him
to a crisp. With every flash of lightning, he had a glimpse of the
Legion outside the city gates.

Right on schedule.

At the sound of
footsteps, he turned to find the Ferine Ghoraes approaching.

“Lord,” the Ferine
ducked his head reverently. “We are making preparations for the
attack.”

“How soon will our
people be ready?”

“The mages assure me
all will be set by sunrise.”

Vharaes wondered if
that was fast enough. No matter, he supposed.

“Ghoraes,” he said
slowly. “That matter we discussed earlier, I’m afraid it is
time.”

The Ferine looked
unhappy. “I am prepared to lead your forces into glorious battle. I
am ready to return to the earth a true elf.”

“I know. But this is
more important. If the Patrician is with the Legion, he will tell
them of the secret passages, and that stuck up bastard never did
tell me all of their locations. You need to leave, now, before
they’re all blocked.”

Ghoraes opened his
mouth to argue.

“The Master needs you
to do this,” Vharaes cut him off with the one argument the Ferine
couldn’t win.

Ghoraes sighed. “Very
well. I shall go.”

“The package is in the
war-room. Take it, and go north. Do not make contact with anyone,
and do not get seen.”

“I will not.” The
Ferine lingered. “Good luck, My Lord.”

“You too, Ghoraes. When
the sun rises, we’ll either stand in a free and properous
Elsbareth, or we shall all return to the earth.”

Vharaes turned back to
the black landscape as the Ferine retreated. He looked out to the
Legion beyond, and silently dared them to come and get him.

Sorry,
Arch-General
, he thought.
I have other plans
.

Serrel drifted in and
out of sleep. It was hard to relax, unsurprisingly. The Hounds had
managed to get a hold of a tent to themselves, and took the time to
rest there, out of the weather. The rain had started up with a
vengeance around midnight, and drummed on the roof of the tent
angrily. And just to top it off, Serrel found himself next to
Dogbreath, who snored the same way he did everything in life, as
loud and as obnoxiously as possible.

When he finally did
drift off, he was awoken not long later by Caellix once again
prodding him roughly with her boot.

“Rise and shine, Fresh
Meat,” she said. “Death or glory awaits.”

“Death or glory can’t
wait five extra minutes?” grumbled Brant.

“Look at it like this,”
said Dogbreath. “Maybe the elves will be too tired to fight
us.”

“I should think so. Who
wants to fight at this time of day? Crazy people, that’s who.”

“Where do you think you
are, Brant?” asked Caellix.

“Oh, right. With crazy
people. Must have slipped my mind.”

They ate a brief
breakfast of cold porridge, and made last minute preparations.
Caellix passed around another bowl of woad for them to put on.

“Need help?” Caellix
said with an evil grin as it reached Serrel.

Serrel dipped his hand
into the dye, and painted a simple, thick streak across his face.
He looked at her expectantly.

“Now you could be a
true Norwen raider,” Caellix said sarcastically.

Mouse was watching
them. “Can I have some?” she asked.

Caellix held out the
bowl. When Mouse dipped her finger in the woad experimentally, she
rolled her eyes.

“Come here.” Caellix
slapped her hand in the bowl, then slapped Mouse on the face,
leaving a giant blue handprint.

“How do I look?” Mouse
asked.

“As if you weren’t
scary enough,” replied Serrel, to which Mouse smiled in
satisfaction.

It was still pitch
black and raining heavily when they went outside. That was good
thing, in that it made being spotted that much harder. But it also
meant yet another day that Serrel had to spend soaking wet. He was
having a hard time remembering when he had last been properly
dry.

Snow and Jurgen were
waiting for them with Dhulrael.

“Last chance for anyone
to change their mind and turn away from this act of pure
foolishness,” said Snow. “No one? Jolly good. Well then, Patrician,
lead on.”

Dhulrael lead them away
from Vollumir, to an ancient oak tree growing unmolested in a
nearby field. He searched about the roots of the tree, then started
digging through the mud. It wasn’t long until he unearthed a thick
wooden trapdoor. With Snow’s help, he heaved it open to reveal a
dark space below.

“There is no ladder,
but there are rungs cut into the stone wall beneath us,” explained
Dhulrael. “It is a fairly straight run into Vollumir, but I am
afraid it is rather narrow. We will have to go single file.”

Snow nodded. “Caellix,
take point. Hawthorne, you next. Give us some light. The Patrician
will follow after you and give you directions.”

Caellix nodded.
“Dogbreath, take Vost with you.” Then she lowered herself to the
ground, and slid into the hole. There was a quiet splash as she
landed.

Dogbreath and Vost
exchanged distrustful glances.

“Don’t try anything,”
Dogbreath warned.

The dog cocked his head
as if to say,
Right back at you, you weirdo
.

“Seems solid,”
Caellix’s voice hissed up at them. “Fresh Meat.”

Serrel lowered himself
over the ledge and dropped down. He fell two metres or so, and
landed up to his ankles in water.

“Light,” Caellix
ordered.

Serrel lifted his
staff, and weaved a tiny pinprick of green light that emanated from
the tip of his staff. It was very dim, but more economical than a
flame, and hopefully wouldn’t be seen from outside.

They stood in a square
chamber, with rough stone walls. A very narrow tunnel led off into
darkness in front of them. In the dim light they saw the tunnel was
partially flooded, but not a great deal. There was just enough room
for one person to walk comfortably, but not enough room should they
run into any trouble, especially with sixteen other people coming
up behind them.

Caellix pursed her
lips. “We’re going ahead,” she whispered upwards. “Send the elf,
then the others one at a time once every two seconds. Everyone keep
moving, we don’t want to get blocked in here.” She turned to
Serrel. “One pace behind me at all times, you move when I move and
step where I step.”

Serrel nodded. He
followed Caellix into the tunnel. He walked fairly easily, but she
had to stoop slightly to avoid banging her head on the ceiling and
on the thick roots that broke through from the tree above. Behind
them, Serrel heard a loud grunt and a splash, followed by several
muttered words in elvish that Serrel assumed correctly were swear
words.

The ground beneath the
layer of water was rough and uneven. Serrel could feel ruts in the
stone, carved by the wheels of countless small carts, running up
and down the tunnels in days past, carrying all manner of illicit
goods. He stumbled a couple of times, but fortunately didn’t fall
and have to be on the receiving end of Caellix’s scorn.

The dim light from his
staff didn’t progress far into the darkness ahead, but there wasn’t
that much to see. The tunnel continued in a long steady
progression, with just a slight curve to the left. His magical
light gave everything that creepy green glow of the ether. It
reminded him of shining eyes in the shadows.

Behind him, he heard
Dhulrael grumble, “I should have let Huirril fix these tunnels. If
those fools on the council had not been so mean with their
money...”

Caellix shushed him
irritably. Apart from the thud and splash of Legion issue boots
trudging through the tunnel, they continued their journey in edgy
silence.

They came to a fork in
the tunnel. Their original way led to the left, and began to slope
upwards, whilst a second tunnel diverted off to the right. From
there came the faint sound of running water.

“To the left,” Dhulrael
instructed.

“What’s that way?”
Caellix asked, nodding towards the diverging tunnel.

“Sewers.”

Caellix went left. The
upwards slope thankfully left the water behind. After a while, they
emerged from the tunnel into a wide chamber. Serrel let the light
on his staff increase in luminosity, revealing a nondescript stone
room. Besides the tunnel they had come from, there didn’t appear to
be a way out.

Dhulrael walked around
the perimeter of the room, examining the walls.

“Well?” asked
Caellix.

“I think... Yes, here.
Give me a hand.” He pulled out his knife, and wedge it into the
cracks between two otherwise identical bricks. With Caellix’s help,
the two of them levered it loose, and pulled it from the wall.

Dhulrael slid his hand
into the gap in the wall, and felt around. He smiled, and activated
some hidden switch with a muffled click. A section of wall about a
metre or so square slid out of place. With a heave, Caellix pulled
it out, and swung the hidden passage open. It revealed a short
crawlspace ending in what looked like a wooden doorway.

She crawled inside, and
pressed her ear against it. When she heard nothing, she glanced
back inquiringly at Dhulrael, who made a pushing motion with his
hands. Caellix placed both hands on the flat piece of wood, and
pushed. The barrier shifted with a squeak of rusty hinges. She
paused and listened intently, but when only silence met her, she
pushed again. The barrier moved on carefully crafted bearings, and
opened wide enough for her to slip out. She gestured for Serrel to
follow her.

Serrel doused the light
on his staff, and crawled through the passage to join Caellix in a
new room. It was someone’s cellar, transformed into a cosy little
office. The barrier hiding the hidden passage was a large and heavy
bookshelf that occupied one wall. A large section of it opened like
a door, and when need be closed without showing a trace.