The Edge of Strange Hollow

She whipped a tiny silver sickle out of her sleeve.
Mack moved to block her way.
“Take it easy!” Nula rolled her eyes. “It’s just my herb knife. Now”—she turned to Poppy—“give me your hand.”
“Uh…”
“Do you want me to help you break the blood ward or not? Blood for blood. It’s the only way in the Grimwood.”
Poppy swallowed and held out her hand.
“You don’t have to do this,” Mack said. “We can go back—see if Jute will make cookies.”
Poppy didn’t need to consider. Another few steps and she’d be in the forbidden part of the Grimwood. Farther than she’d ever been. Free.
Nula must have seen the decision in her eyes because she gave Poppy a nod and took her hand in a firm grip. Poppy gasped as Nula swiped the sickle across her hand. It was a small cut, but blood bloomed to the surface, pooling in her palm.
“Sorry,” Nula said, not sounding the least bit sorry. She brushed away the leaves and twigs with her foot. “Now. Squeeze your hand tight and let the blood fall onto the Grimwood soil.”
Mack groaned as Poppy stared at her palm. She shook off a wave of dizziness, and did what the pooka said.
Nula gripped her elbow and gave her a reassuring smile. “Repeat after me, okay?”
Poppy nodded and met the pooka’s bright gold eyes.
“Let. Me. In.”
Poppy blinked, then repeated after Nula. “Let. Me. In.”
“Now, twice more. Everything is thrice in this bloody wood.”
Poppy grinned. “Let. Me. In. Let. Me. In.”
Nula let go and looked up. “Right. That’s done. Got a bandage?”
Poppy stared. “Wait, what? That … that’s it?”
Mack’s face was full of storm clouds as he handed Poppy a roll of self-sticking bandages.
Nula snatched it out of her hand, wound Poppy’s palm. “Blood wards on people can only take root with consent … or on those who aren’t strong enough to give permission. Your parents probably did it when you were little, right?”
Poppy nodded.
“So. You’ve taken back your consent. Done.”
Poppy turned her attention to her body. Nula was right. Although her hand was throbbing, the buzzing in her head had stopped … the pins and needles were … gone! All that was left was the pain where her hand had been cut. She let out a peal of laughter and ran across the invisible boundary. Dog leaped after her with a bark.
“Poppy, wait!” Mack shouted.
She skidded to a stop and tipped her head back to look up into the trees. The air was soft on her skin, as familiar as the touch of a friend.
Everything smelled sharp and golden—promising, like the scent of apples, and crushed pine needles under her feet, and of the heat rising off her skin. She was in the Grimwood! She could go as far as she wanted. Nothing could stop her. She spun in a circle until the dizziness came back, as Dog frolicked and barked around her, giddy and joyful.
She fell to the ground, looking up at the sky through the trees with her arms spread wide, as if she could hug the world.
Nula stood back, watching with an expression of startled bewilderment.
“Feel better?” Mack chuckled, snatching Poppy’s injured hand from where she waved it in a sunbeam. He checked Nula’s wrapping and gave a grim nod.
“I feel great!” Poppy shouted. “Mack!” She jumped to her feet and gripped his arms, shaking him. “We did it! I’m in the Grimwood. I’m really here.”
He flushed, and his smile twitched. “Yup. You, me, and Pooka McStabby, over there.” He rolled his eyes. “Really though,” he said as he turned back to Poppy. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
“Now we just have to find a way to get you into Strange Hollow. Then we’ll both have our wishes!”
Mack’s cheeks grew redder.
Nula grimaced. “You’re welcome, by the way. Why do you want to be in here so bad anyway?”
Poppy shook her head. “I—I can’t explain.”
How could she explain what the Grimwood meant to her? She had been hearing stories about it all her life … had held it up as the someday answer to every question. How could she tell a stranger that even though she’d never been past the edge of the wood, it was like family to her. The Grimwood had given her everything she loved. Mack! And Jute! And Dog! Even their home!
And now she could pursue things to the fullest, all her questions … every single one—even the ones she hadn’t thought of yet—would be resolved and explored. She couldn’t wait to write down how to break a blood ward in her journal.
Everything was perfect.
The Grimwood was perfect.
Mack let out a low grumble that she’d never heard before.
“What is it?” Poppy stared at her friend as the tips of his ears twitched.
“Something’s coming.” He turned to her, his copper eyes wide. “Something big.”
As if echoing his words, she felt a strange drumming sound rise through the soles of her feet.
She looked up, but there was no storm—only a canopy of green and shadow.
“Hide, Poppy.” Mack scoured the wood. He grabbed hold of Dog’s collar. “Whatever it is, it’s huge! Hide now.”
“What is it?” Nula flattened herself into a low crouch.
Poppy could hear the drumming now—growing louder with every passing moment.
The ground began to shake and even the trees shivered in place. Poppy’s stomach dropped. She pulled her knife from her boot.
Nula met Poppy’s eyes and poofed into a small blue bird, rising to a high tree branch above Poppy.
“Shouldn’t we run?” Poppy called to Mack, holding out one arm for balance.
He shook his head. “It’s too late for that. And some things it’s best not to run from. Just please—hide, like I said. Get behind a tree and try not to move. Hold on to it if you have to.” He picked up Dog and slung them over his shoulder.
Poppy’s pulse leaped as she leaned her back into an enormous beech tree and waited. Its leaves quaked and rustled all around her.
They stared into the forest—waiting as the drumming grew louder and louder. Dog whined, only to be hushed by Mack.
The flashes of light were the