The Hollow Ball

Chapter 3

My lungs burned. They burned so hot, that I was certain they were going to turn into dust.

Run! Run! They're going to get you!

As the sun emerged over the horizon, the forest erupted in fiery shades of maroon and gold, dew drops refracting yellow light into my eyes, nearly blinding me. Behind me, with long growls and excited barks, the wolves reveled in their chase. The sound of twigs snapping mixed with my labored breaths, and I forced my legs faster.

Move! my mind screamed. Move, dammit!

Time moved differently as I raced between the trees; branches grabbed my hair and tugged my dress as if to break the little stride I made. I barely managed to dodge their attacks and spared a foolish glance at the wolves, a move that nearly sent me tumbling down a hill. My knees paid for it. Something cracked when the misstep sent a shockwave up my shins.

Run! Your soul depends on it!

Like sheepdogs corralling their flocks at the end of the day, the wolves kept their distance. Confusion laced my panic. They had plenty of opportunities to catch me, but instead, their glowing red eyes scanned the land.

This could be a game, I thought with terror. You could be running into another trap.

Suddenly, the ground crumbled beneath me, and I tumbled onto the hard stone and loose rock dirt of the same road I had ventured down only a day earlier. For a moment, I couldn't believe my eyes. The road. I'd made it onto the road.

And ahead of me, like a miracle and a dream come to life, the trees parted into the citrine sky, and the black iron gates of Hunting Hollow glistened high into the clouds. Behind it, stone walls and spires, a clock tower, and the mismatched rooftops of houses reached for me through the morning haze. Lifting a hand, I reached back.

Home. Just a few more paces and I'd be home.

The wolves' growls dragged my gaze back to the forest. They stopped their chase. Lurking in the shadows, they lowered their heads and watched me, tails swishing as if to say, keep moving.

They weren't hunting me, after all. They were taking me home.

Sucking in deep lungs-fulls of air, I allowed myself a moment to breathe. "Oh thank goodness..."

Kian, I'm coming for you.

Above them, the trees rustled with their disdain. For this rare occasion, I would live, and the forest hated it—hated me—and wished nothing more than to burn it down if I could.

That will be my next quest.

Gathering my tattered skirts, I forced myself up. Sunlight stung my eyes and metallic blood soured my mouth when I staggered to the gates. Onward. Warning bells burst to life from the watchtower. Onward. The glints of rifles and swords flashed silver along the spiraling iron gates. Onward.

I'm home. I'm home. I'm home.

From the two watchtowers, nearly a dozen bodies poured onto the road, their rifles at the ready.

They weren't going to shoot me, were they?

"It's me," I rasped. "Help me."

But then the men lifted their rifles to the top of the gate. The clouds parted, pouring a single golden ray of sunshine onto the grounds, and what first seemed like the swirling crest of Hunting Hollow at the top of the gate blazed into focus.

I sobbed.

The nightmare, it seemed, was not over yet. Because hanging from the spike at the center of the twisting, metal grate, was Mr. Robert's headless body.

No. No. No. No.

A blood-curdling scream ripped across the landscape. "They're coming!"

I froze. Could it be?

"It's them!"

It was the second voice I heard right before the Shadow arrived.

Dorothea Chase, the mayor's granddaughter, and woman I had known since childhood, emerged from the trees not far from where I stood. "They're coming!" she screamed again, her ivory skin stained scarlet with fresh blood that leaked from her eyes. No. From where her eyes should have been.

"Miss Chase!" a guard shouted. "Miss Castellano!"

I had no time to react before Dorothea was in front of me, clutching my arms, screaming and sobbing as though I were the direct cause of her misery—and the only one capable of granting her mercy.

"Dorothea—" I gasped, fighting to get away. Her grip was a vice. Her teeth were stained scarlet."Let go of me!"

"You have to listen to me! They have a message!" she gasped. She pressed her jagged nails into my skin. "Listen to me!"

I felt myself falling into the dark voids where her crystalline blue eyes once were. "Tell me, Dorothea," I whimpered. "What is their message?"

Relief softened her blood-stained face. Pulling me close, she said with a new, deadly calm, "Death waits for Hunting Hollow. One we can no longer cheat. And if we seek our Lords and Ladies' protection, gather those who are Chosen and prepare them for another feast. One before the harvest moon. This is the price they seek."

This was not just any feast she spoke of.

It was the Hollow Ball. 

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