The Edge of Strange Hollow Gabrielle Byrne (best love story novels in english .TXT) 📖

“No way,” Poppy said.

“Umm, no,” Mack said at the same time.

Nula laughed. “Anyway, there are stones all along the edge of the wood if you know where to look,” she interjected. “But there are some really old ones in the deep … and I guess in other parts of the wood too.”

The sun was above them, beating down through the trees, and Poppy stopped to catch her breath. She watched a purple and neon-blue tentacular as it bent long arms to its mouth one at a time, wiping them clean of the pollen that dusted the air.

Poppy’s throat felt raw and sweat dripped into her eyes. They had come around a second bend in the river. If they left the Grimwood here, just beyond the edge of the forest, she thought they’d come to Golden Hollow. It was as good a time as any to rest a minute.

A bead of sweat ran down her back. “So … they’re landmarks to keep you from getting lost? It would be cool if there was a map of them. If someone can figure out how the magic works, they could use them to get around.” She leaned against a birch and lifted her canteen, guzzling the cool water, then handed it to Nula. Mack had his own, and she knew he was happy to share with Dog.

Nula blew a raspberry. “They might keep you from getting yourself lost, but that doesn’t mean they keep the Grimwood from getting you lost.” She lifted the canteen and took a sip. “And who knows if you’d get back in one piece.” She paused, then shot Poppy a grin. “Might be fun.”

Suddenly, Mack froze, his posture so sharp that the rest of them froze too. The elf was listening so hard Poppy could feel it—danger, acute and tangible. A bolt of adrenaline ran down her back.

“I hear footsteps,” Mack mouthed, pointing down to where his toes dug into the soil. “And I think I hear voices.”

Nula shifted. “I don’t hear anything except—”

And then the tree behind her exploded in flame.

Dog started barking, all three heads wild with fury and fear, but before anyone else could react, a whistling sound raced through the trees. Another tree burst into fire.

“Let’s go!” Poppy called, and ran toward the river. Mack was by her side in an instant. “Where’s Nula?” she asked.

“Bird,” Mack said, careening into her as a tree to his right blew up. They toppled to the ground, Dog barking and lunging to tug at their sleeves.

Poppy stumbled to her feet and helped Mack up. They ran again. The air was full of whistles now, each followed by a tree exploding.

Heat filled the air, and something sharp hit Poppy’s cheek. She cried out.

Crackling sounds surrounded them as another impact knocked them down. The soil began to sizzle, turning dark behind them, the color seeping over the ground toward them, withering the plants. A sparkling black thorn tree pushed out of the earth, twisting into itself. The fire around it went out.

“Look out!” Poppy cried and scuttled back, tugging Mack with her.

Poppy’s cheek stung. She lifted her hand and it came away red.

Nula appeared a few feet away, deeper in the wood. “This way!” she called, waving them on. “Hurry!”

They stumbled to their feet and raced for Nula.

They had only gone a few steps when Poppy heard a whooshing sound, followed by more sizzling. She skidded to a stop, turning back to look.

Her mouth fell open. “Mack!” she called forward. “Mack, look!”

He spun around in time to see thorn trees rising next to each of the burning trees.

Everywhere the black soil touched, the ground sizzled and crackled, plumes of dark smoke shot into the air—and the fire went out.

The normal trees blackened and crumbled like charcoal. A grove of thorn trees had emerged, fully grown and darkly sparkling. The fire was gone, but the burnt trees were withering—turning brown and falling to ash.

Poppy’s throat tightened as the giant maple tree Mack had leaned on blackened and died.

Mack stood behind her, with one hand on her shoulder. “The thorn trees protect the Grimwood. They always have.”

Nula, who had become the small blue bird again, perched on his shoulder.

“Thorns!” Poppy swore. “What was that? Where did those fires come from? They … they shot through the air.” She looked at Mack. “Have you seen that before? Was it lightning?”

“No. I don’t know,” Mack said in a low voice.

“Was that … it seemed like an attack. Did someone just attack us?”

Mack pressed his lips together. “I don’t know. I heard those footsteps, but … I don’t think so … maybe.” He dug his toes into the dirt. “Something doesn’t feel right though. Let’s get out of here,” he added.

“Agreed.”

They moved west as fast as they could. No one spoke a word. It was as if any sound might shatter everything that remained.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The sun was starting to set. As the light turned golden, Poppy thought of her house, a picture of it flashing in her mind, gleaming in the morning sunshine, the roots turned warm as honey. The image made her heart skip a beat.

For the first time, she missed it. It was true, she had been lonely there, but the thought of Jute, there by himself with no one to look after, made her heart ache. He must be worried sick. Her parents’ faces flashed in her mind. She could see her mother bent over a book, with her hair wild from her pushing her hands into it. She remembered an image of her father, stirring a pot of some potion in the lab, his thousand-yard stare making it clear his mind was elsewhere. They weren’t around much, but they were hers, and she wanted them back—all of them, together.

Poppy knelt down and cuddled Dog’s three heads. “Maybe I should have left you at home with Jute,” she said, pressing her face into Eta’s, then Two’s, and finally Brutus’s. Predictably, he slobbered her cheek. Mack laughed as she stood to scrub at it with