The Hollow: At The Edge (11 page)

Caellix sniffed. “We
don’t have time for this. Brant, Holly, grab any of those supplies
the Ferine took. Dogbreath, find us any weapons that aren’t broken.
Let’s get out of here before any more of these bastards show
up.”

“And Pointy?” Dogbreath
asked.

“He comes with us. And
if I find out he’s lying...”

“Yes, fed to your
dogs,” said the elf with a weak smile. “I understand.”

“Fresh Meat, watch
him.”

Serrel stood a safe
distance away, his staff pointed at the elf in a manner that he
hoped was threatening as the others began collecting up supplies. A
few moments later Caellix returned, a new Legion issue bow and a
quiver of arrows slung over one shoulder.

“All right, move out.
And don’t even think about getting clever with us, elf.”

“If I were clever,” the
elf replied sadly. “I do not think any of us would be here.”

Dogbreath kicked dirt
over the campfire, and doused the flames. In the darkness, Caellix
led the group out into the now black forest to where they had left
their packs. She had an amazing sense of direction, even in the
dark.

Then, with Dhulrael
watched by two dogs, and with a staff and at least two sharp
weapons aimed at his back, the group disappeared into the
shadows.

Part 3
:
Hunted.

Serrel found it was,
unsurprisingly, much harder to move through the forest at night
than it had been during the day. Even with the stars and the moon
shining brightly, he was still unprepared for the pure darkness
that was all around him.

And the noises the
forest made at night. In his youth, Serrel had ventured into the
woods near his home town many times after the sun had gone down.
But those woods were to the forests of the Faelands as a rock pool
was to the ocean. The sounds that he heard echoing through the
trees were nothing like that of the woods back home. Out in the
blackness, there were creatures that none of the group had ever had
experience with before. Every so often, Serrel swore he saw flashes
of green eyes in the shadows.

“Just animals, Fresh
Meat,” Caellix reassured him, when he pointed them out. “The Ferine
would have attacked us by now.”

Serrel wondered, and
not for the first time, why everything in the forest had to have
the same creepy green eyes.

After a long and
painful walk, Caellix finally called a halt.

“That’s far enough,”
she announced. “We can camp here for the night.”

“Thank the gods,”
Dhulrael breathed. He dropped to the ground and sat with his back
against a tree.

“No fire,” Caellix
ordered. “I don’t want to attract attention. There’ll be a two man
watch at all times. Dogbreath and Holly, you first. Then Brant and
Fresh Meat. I’ll take the last shift with the elf.”

“Does this mean you
might be willing to trust me?” Dhulrael asked.

“Depends on what you
say next,” she replied.

As Dogbreath and Holly
set out to keep watch, the others settled down amongst the roots of
a giant tree. Brant pulled out some of their rations of hard
biscuits and dried meat and handed them around. The elf took his
gladly, and ate ravenously.

Serrel took his food,
but couldn’t eat. He sat on a tree root, his head swimming with
thoughts, and not all of them good.

“Can I take this off
now, Sergeant?” he asked Caellix, pointing at the woad handprint on
his face.

He saw Caellix nod her
head in the dark. He found a spare piece of cloth in his pack, and
wet it with water from his canteen. He was wiping furiously at his
face when he realised Caellix was staring at him. He ignored
her.

“You should eat
something,” she told him.

“I’m not hungry,” he
replied.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s
going to be a long day tomorrow, and you need to keep up your
strength. Eat something.”

Serrel held a strip of
dried, salted beef in his hand but didn’t eat it.

“I can’t get that smell
out of my nose,” he said softly.

“What smell?”

“Burnt meat,” Serrel
replied.

“Oh, that. Yes. That
takes some getting used to.”

“Is it always like
this?” he asked weakly. He realised that he sounded like a
child.

Caellix shrugged. “The
first time is always hard. But the second time, that’s usually
worse, because you know what it’s like now, and you dread having to
go through it again. After that, it just gets easier and easier.
Look on the bright side. At least they were only Ferine.”

Serrel thought about
the elf woman, lying on the ground holding her guts in, cursing
Caellix with her last breaths.

“They were people,” he
muttered.

“They were not,” said a
voice sadly. They all looked at the elf. “Not anymore.”

“Not feeling a lot of
sympathy for your fallen brethren, Pointy?” asked Caellix.

“They were not my
brethren. They were hardly even elves anymore.”

“See,” said Caellix.
“The elf doesn’t even shed a tear for them.”

“They ate my friends,
Sergeant,” replied Dhulrael. “I have a great respect for all living
things, but there are limits.”

Caellix snorted an
amused laugh.

“What were those
things?” Serrel asked him.

“The Ferine?” Dhulrael
frowned. “We do not really know. They were elves, once upon a time.
But they have changed themselves somehow, using magic.”

“How?” Serrel pressed.
“How can someone change into something like that?”

“Never seen a werewolf,
Fresh Meat?” Caellix asked.

“Similar, but not quite
the same thing,” said Dhulrael. “I assume... And this is only a
theory, mind you. I cannot know for certain. But I assume that what
they must do, I mean the only thing that can make sense is for them
to somehow infect themselves with the primordial ether.”

Serrel looked at him.
“Do what with the what now?”

“Sorry. Let me try
again... You are a mage, correct? You know about the ether?”

“Of course.”

“Mages like yourself
are, shall we say, doorways to the ether. You are linked to it, and
act as reservoirs of its energy.”

“Yes, yes, I learnt
about all this on my first day of training. We’re permeable. I had
to look that word up.”

“Exactly. Permeable.
Some humans are permeable, absorbing energy from the ether. But
most of you are not, like the Sergeant here.”

“And thank the gods for
that,” said Caellix.

“We elves are
different. Here is this land, the world is thinner. The energy
passes from the ether much more easily. Have you performed any
weaving whilst you have been here?”

Serrel thought about
seared elf flesh. “Some.”

“Did you find it easier
than normal? That the energy flowed far quicker, and returned to
you more rapidly?”

Serrel tried to think
about that. The fight had happened so fast, and he’d acted almost
without thinking. He tended to find weaving to be easy in any case.
He was good at it. Then again, he was more weary from the act of
killing than he had been from weaving. He didn’t feel fatigued by
his spellcasting at all.

“I suppose,” he
said.

“The ether here in
Elsbareth has a tendency to... leak, as it were, into our world. As
a result, it shapes the world around it. It has shaped the elves
into what we are. All elves are able to tap into the ether, unlike
most humans. We vary in our abilities to a certain degree, but from
an early age, most elves are able to weave.”

Dhulrael paused. This
was apparently the most he had spoken in some time. He went on, “In
some places in Elsbareth, the ether leaks energy into our world.
Mostly the energy disperses itself as light, such as the Aurora
Ethereal. Sometimes it releases itself in other ways, causing what
we call ether storms. But in some places, very, very rare places,
the energy simply collects, and... I suppose you would say goes
stagnant. Some of these places have held energy for centuries,
possibly longer. The energy from these places is called primordial
ether. It comes from a time when humans were still nothing more
than animals, banging rocks together.”

“This is all very
interesting,” put in Caellix. “What does this have to do with the
Ferine?”

“Well, a mage uses
their energy, and then the ether fills them again. But can you
imagine if instead of tapping the ether, you allowed yourself to
absorb some of the primordial ether? That is what I believe the
Ferine have done. They have found somewhere in Elsbareth that
contains primordial ether from a time when we, the elves, were
ourselves still barely more than animals. They emptied themselves
of energy, to the point where they would have fallen into the
waking abyss, what Imperials call the Hollow, and they allowed the
primordial ether to fill them. As a result, they have changed,
regressed if you will, to a form more like that of our elvish
forbears. Something primitive and bestial.”

“So they turned
themselves into animals,” said Caellix impatiently. “You could have
just said that.”

“But not just animals,”
said Dhulrael darkly. “Animals hunt for food. For survival. The
Ferine, they pervert the natural order. They take pleasure in the
hunt, the kill. They like the blood and the violence. Their own
twisted desires have warped them into monsters.” He sighed. “Of
course, this is only a theory. Perhaps the truth will be something
far worse. It usually is.”

Caellix stared at him.
“You seem to know an awful lot about these things.”

“I have had little else
to think about, apart from having to listen to my friends being
brutally murdered, and awaiting my own violent and bloody end. It
pays to keep the mind busy. I hope that one day I might finance an
expedition to find the Ferine’s source of primordial ether. Then I
will take great pleasure in destroying it forever.” He fell silent.
“Should we survive upcoming events, of course.”

“Naturally. Speaking of
which, you were suppose to explain to us how you came to be all the
way out here. The Generals seemed to think you were leading a
resistance in Vollumir.”

Dhulrael almost
laughed. “Me? Leading an army? Sergeant, before I became Patrician,
I was a teacher. I am the last person who would be able to lead an
army, especially against Vharaes, and the Ferine.”

Caellix frowned. “So
the Ferine are working for Vharaes?”

“For or with. I do not
know for sure. To most people the Ferine were a myth. No one had
seen one for nearly a decade. Not since the first war with the
Empire. Then, not too long ago, they just appeared inside the
Fortress of Vollumir, and slaughtered everyone. I heard that
Vharaes was leading them. I do not know what happened, not for
sure, but I believe that someone in the city was working for
Vharaes. It is the only way he could have entered the city and
deployed his forces so quickly. Someone told him about all the
secret entrances.”

“So how did you
escape?”

“I was not in the
fortress at the time. I was visiting a friend in the market
district when the attack occurred. I spent most of the siege hiding
in various basements. I managed to escape the city through an old
smuggler’s tunnel. Thank the gods for Vollumir’s old criminal
underworld. Vharaes must have found out about me though, because
the Ferine pursued me across the country. Fool that I was, I
thought a childhood of travelling and adventures would give me an
advantage. You cannot escape a creature for whom hunting is as easy
as breathing. I came here to the south because I reasoned this
would be where the Legion would land. I thought I could meet with
you, and give you information about the attack. But it did not take
long for the Ferine to find me, and take me prisoner. I was
surprised they did not rip me limb from limb the moment they had
me. Vharaes must want me alive,” he added bitterly.

“Why?”

“I do not know. Perhaps
he has a soft spot for an old friend.” He gave a bitter laugh.
“That seems out of character for him.”

“And the two elves with
you? Who were they?”

“Friends from Vollumir.
They gave me shelter, helped me hide when Vharaes attacked. They
did not want me to go roaming the countryside by myself, so they
volunteered to accompany me. I should have...” The elf lowered his
head. “I should not have brought them. But I was afraid. The Ferine
took them alive but over the last two days they... They tortured
them. I had to listen to it all.”

“I’m sorry,” said
Serrel gently.

“There is no one to
blame but myself. I was responsible for Vollumir, for the people.
For my friend’s lives. And I am the one who let Vharaes take it,
right under my nose. Everything that has happened has been my
fault.”

“I suppose you would
know,” replied Caellix. “But credit where it’s due, some of the
blame has to fall to Vharaes. Just now, you said you knew him. An
old friend.”

“I did,” Dhulrael
admitted. “We grew up together. When we were younger we travelled
across the length and breadth of Elsbareth together. But that was a
long, long time ago. I had not seen him for years, not until he
appeared in Vollumir, holding the head of your Imperial Ambassador.
That was rather unexpected. He was always so driven. And arrogant.
But the man he has become, this power hungry lunatic, is just so
unlike the boy I remembered. He always coveted power and knowledge,
but this announcement of his to reclaim the throne borders of the
ludicrous. He is not even next in line. There are at least four or
five others who would inherit the kingship before he would.”

“People change. Your
history isn’t going to complicate anything is it?” Caellix asked
suspiciously. “You aren’t going to do something stupid like try and
convince him of the error of his ways?”

“Sergeant,” Dhulrael
said sternly. “When last I saw him, he was holding a disembodied
head. I am quite sure I lack the necessary powers of persuasion.
Whether he chooses to surrender to you, or whether he chooses to
die fighting, it is beyond my control. But he will be held
accountable for all he has done.”