The Hollow: At The Edge (19 page)

“Done,” she said
simply.

Caellix’s laughter rent
through the stunned silence. “Oh, I like her. Why couldn’t I get
her in the Hounds?”

“Excuse me for
breathing, Sergeant,” Serrel replied, offended.

“Get over it, Fresh
Meat. Is everyone still alive?”

“Yes,” replied Brant.
“Some of us even have a few extra holes to breath through.” He was
squatted by Dhulrael, who groaned.

“Is it bad?” asked the
elf.

“It’s barely a scratch.
We’ll have you patched up in no time, don’t you worry. Don’t know
why you didn’t just run away.”

“You think I got this
injury from
fighting
?” Dhulrael exclaimed. “I
was
running away!”

Caellix shook her head
in disgust. She turned to give Victor and his companion a long hard
stare. “Black clothes. No rank. No insignias. You smell something,
Dogbreath?”

Dogbreath sniffed the
air. “Blood. With just a hint of rat shit, Caellix.”

“Me too. Which can only
mean one thing: Nightblades. I’d recognise those knives of yours
anywhere, Annabella Kincade. What the hell are you doing here?”

Victor’s companion
pulled off her own hood and mask, revealing a woman with tan skin
and long black hair tied in a neat braid. She smiled sweetly at
Caellix and replied, “Saving your arse, dear Sergeant.”

Caellix sniffed. “The
day my arse needs saving from the likes of you, Kincade, is the day
I deserve to die.”

“You’re welcome
anyway,” said Victor drily.

Caellix turned her
glare onto him. “This one of yours, Fresh Meat?”

“Yes,” said Serrel. “He
trained with Mouse and me.”

“He was also Pond
Scum,” Mouse added helpfully.

“Do you actually have
to tell people that?” Victor asked her with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” said Mouse
innocently. “We were Pond Scum.”

Victor and Serrel
exchanged a glance.

“Pond Scum,” repeated
Caellix. “Wish I’d thought of that.” She turned back to Annabella.
“So, Kincade, where are the rest of your lowlifes? Don’t tell me
the Killer went and got himself... What was that phrase you lot
love so much? Oh, yes.
Removed from relevance
.”

“No such luck,
Caellix,” said Annabella. “And since you’re still standing, thanks
in no small way to the timely arrival of us lowlifes, I shall take
you to him.”

“As much as I would
enjoy telling that evil old bastard where to shove it, I have more
important people to kill. So if you’ll excuse me...”

Annabella sighed.
“Caellix, please. Stop being so high and mighty for one second, and
just hear us out. Trust me, this is important.”

“Trust an assassin?
That’s a big ask, Kincade.” Caellix glanced at Dhulrael, who was
being bandaged by Brant, and Mouse whose sleeve was bloody from her
knife wound. “I’ll need a few minutes while my people tend to their
wounds and catch their breath. You can give me your spiel then. But
when we’re ready to go, we’re going.”

“Good enough for me,”
Annabella said happily. She held out her hands towards the forest
in an
after you
gesture. “Shall we, then?”

Caellix snorted. “One
moment.” She turned and whistled loudly. A moment passed, and her
dogs didn’t return. She frowned, and shouted, “
Vut
!”

On the edge of his
hearing, Serrel heard a dog whimpering.

Caellix’s face went
hard. “Oh, no...”

She broke into a
sprint, the others running hard to catch up.

They found the dogs
besides the bodies of two Ferine with their throats ripped out.
Vost stood forlornly beside Ripper, who lay on the ground, his body
sliced to ribbons, his blood pooling into the black earth. Ripper
tried to lift his head at Caellix’s arrival, but dropped it flat
with a whimper of pain.

“Oh, my boy,” Caellix
whispered. She shushed Ripper gently as she knelt down beside him.
“Shh. It’s all right, boy. Don’t struggle. That’s a good boy,
Ripper.”

Ripper pawed at the
ground uselessly. She stroked his head softly with one hand, and
pulled a dagger from her boot with the other. “You were good dog,
Ripper. The best. Thank you. You can rest now.”

The dagger moved out of
sight, and there was one single thrust. Then Ripper was still.

There was silence as
Caellix slid the dagger back into its sheath, then muttered a small
prayer in Norwen Drallic, her own language. She pressed her fingers
into her dog’s blood, and gently painted a streak across her
forehead. With one deep calming breath, she stood up and looked
back at group.

“I’m sorry, Caellix,”
said Annabella sincerely.

“Somebody scrape up the
elf,” Caellix said coldly. “We’re leaving.”

She pushed past
Annabella and stormed away. Dogbreath shrugged, and led the others
after her. Only Serrel paused and lingered behind. He looked back
at Vost, still standing behind Ripper’s body. The dog glanced up at
him once, as if asking for help understanding what had
happened.

“I’m sorry, boy,”
Serrel said gently. “But he’s gone. You can’t stay here.”

Vost whimpered
sadly.

“Come on, boy. Let’s
go.”

With one final glance
back, Vost obediently followed Serrel away.

They followed the
mysterious Annabella’s directions to the place where they would
find her commanding officer. Caellix walked in silence far ahead of
the group. Dhulrael walked slowly, supported by Brant, who regaled
him with tales of gory and grotesque injuries he and acquaintances
of his had received, all of which, he told the elf, were far more
bloody and life threatening than the tiny cat scratches the Ferine
had given him. It didn’t take long to make the elf vomit.

Serrel walked around
the puddle, and fell in step besides Mouse, who was staring airily
around the forest.

“It’s pretty here,” she
said.

“Only because there
aren’t any giant spiders here,” Serrel replied.

“Giant spiders?” Mouse
asked. “I would have liked to have seen those.”

“Sure,” said Serrel
slowly. “One day. So... If you don’t mind talking about it, what
happened last night? Where is everyone?”

“I don’t really know. I
was about to go to sleep when an alarm call went out. We had to
form up and prepare for an attack. Everyone was getting into
formation, when suddenly there was this beam of red light, shooting
up into the sky. Then someone started firing fireballs and huge
bolts of ether energy onto us. A lot of them broke right through
our shields... Not mine though,” she added as an afterthought.
“After that our lines broke, and the elves stormed into camp. I
don’t know how long we were fighting. Then the group I was with got
cut off, and we tried to take shelter in the woods. But it was
dark, and the Ferine were chasing us, and I couldn’t see anything.
I could hear them though, hunting for us, and killing people. When
they finally found me, I thought I was going to die. I killed as
many as I could, but then, I think something hit me on the head.
When I woke up, there were bodies everywhere, and the camp was
empty apart from Theo and Snell. I was going to look for others,
but then you and your group showed. That was lucky, I suppose. I
think I like your sergeant.”

She said all this
completely devoid of emotion or feeling. It was the most Serrel had
ever heard her say in one sitting.

He looked at her.
“Gods, Mouse. Are you all right?”

“No,” Mouse said
simply. “Oh. You meant, am I physically all right. Well then, yes.
My head’s a little sore, and my arm got cut back there, but I
managed to stop the bleeding, which has ruined my uniform,
unfortunately. I never used to be any good at healing spells. You
remember? I never threw up on anyone like Kaitlin did, but I was
rather useless. I’ve gotten better over the last few days. I’ve had
plenty of practice. Everyone bleeds eventually.”

Serrel looked at her.
“I didn’t mean physically. I meant:
are you all right
?”

Mouse was silent. “No.
I’m not,” she said. “But what can we do? You know, I used to be
scared all the time. But then a giant sea monster ripped apart the
boat I was on, and tried to eat me. Then I was in the water, and I
nearly drowned. I can’t swim, you know, so there was that. Only
three other people got rescued. Everyone else died. So I guess I
shouldn’t complain. Then last night... it was like the sky was
falling on us, and people were burning, then the elves were killing
everyone, and eating them...” She sighed in resignation. “I’m
tired. I just don’t have the strength to be scared any more.”

Serrel didn’t know what
to say to that. He settled on, “For what it’s worth, Mouse. I’m
very
glad to see you again.”

Mouse gave him a look.
“Oh. Well. I’m glad to see you too, Serrel.”

“And you shouldn’t be
afraid anymore. If anything, everyone else should be afraid of
you.”

“Oh. That’s sweet.”

“I don’t suppose you
met anyone else from Pond Scum?”

Mouse nodded. “I met
Kaitlin when we landed on the beach. She said Justin was driving
her crazy, but that her new commanding officer was nice. I saw
Timmy at our last camp. He was being told off for gambling. I
didn’t see Edgar or Bull anywhere, and I just met you and Victor
again.”

“Do you think they’re
all all right?”

Mouse shrugged. “I
don’t know. I hope they made it to safety. Even Justin... well,
maybe Justin. He could be such an arse.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know why you
two are being so maudlin,” said Victor, making them both jump. He’d
appeared right behind them without a sound.

“That’s a good way to
get blown to pieces, Victor,” Serrel told him. “Wear a bell or
something.”

“Jumpy, aren’t we? The
Faelands really has a way of putting everyone on edge. I mean, look
at you two. Getting all misty about the rest of our alumni, and
we’ve only been separated a few days.”

“They’ve been rather
eventful days,” said Mouse. “And we don’t what’s happened to
them.”

“And worrying about it
won’t change that. You should just focus on the events at
hand.”

“That’s what I missed
about you, Victor,” said Serrel with a sigh. “Your unwavering
ability to be an apathetic git about more or less anything.”

“I’m not apathetic,”
Victor replied. “I just don’t see the point in dwelling on things I
can’t control. That just distracts you, and in case you haven’t
noticed, distractions in this place can get us killed.”

“We’re glad you’re
alive too, Victor,” said Mouse sincerely. “And you’re right. It is
stupid to worry. I’m sure Kaitlin’s fine.”

“I wasn’t worried about
Kaitlin.”

“Liar,” Mouse replied
simply.

“I’m not,” Victor told
her. He paused. “You did say you spoke to her before?”

“Oh, yes. About a lot
of things.”

“Did she... mention
me?”

“No,” Mouse said
flatly. “She hasn’t mentioned you, talked about you, or even
stopped to think about you for even a moment.”

“Really?” Victor
asked.

“Yes. In fact she went
to great pains to point out that she hadn’t talked about or thought
about you in the slightest. Quite forcefully. Several times.”

Serrel caught the tiny
smirk that flashed briefly across Victor’s otherwise cool and
collected face.

“There is something I’d
like to know,” said Serrel. “Tell me, how the hell did you manage
to weave without a staff?”

“Pure willpower,”
Victor replied. He gave them what he considered to be an innocent
smile.

“No, really. How?”
Serrel insisted.

“You don’t think I’m a
good enough mage to be able weave without a staff, just because
you
can’t?”

“No,” joined in Mouse.
“You were never that good.”

“True. All right, you
got me. I don’t have a staff, but I can still weave. But I can’t
tell you how.”

“Oh, come on,” said
Serrel impatiently. “Tell us.”

“Please,” added Mouse
politely.

Victor glanced ahead,
and saw his fellow Nightblade, Annabella, talking to Caellix.

“All right,” he
conceded rather easily. “But you can’t tell anyone you saw this.
It’s meant to be an Imperial secret.”

He stopped to pull the
glove off his left hand, and held his palm up for them to see. His
enthusiasm suggested that despite his forced nonchalance, he had a
really amazing secret he really,
really
wanted to share with
someone.

On Victor’s palm was a
large tattoo of an unusual mystic rune. Smaller tattoos of other
runes dotted the fleshy pads on each of his first knuckles. The
skin around them was still red, suggesting the tattoo was fairly
recent.

“What does it mean?”
Mouse asked.

“It’s the Ithieric rune
for the word of power
Tael
. It means channel. The tattoo ink
was mixed with my supply of Vorkeph’s Elixir, so its embedded with
ether energy.”

“And you can weave with
that?” asked Serrel in amazement.

Victor nodded, as close
to excited as the others two had ever seen him. “It works just like
a staff, allowing the ether to flow out through you.”

“Is it as good as a
staff?”

“Unfortunately, no. It
takes more effort to get the energy out, and more energy to weave
effectively. Plus, before you can weave anything, the rune has to
be activated. That takes energy as well, and you need to get in the
habit of using
Tael
before you cast anything else. Otherwise
you end up waving your hand around like an idiot before someone
cuts it off. But on the bright side, I don’t need to carry my staff
around. That’s important if you’re a Nightblade.”

“I want one,” said
Mouse.

“Like I said, it’s a
secret trick. But maybe I could convince Annabella to give you two
one.”

“She gave you yours?”
asked Serrel as Victor pulled his glove back on and the three
started off after the rest of the group.