Chapter Nineteen
The colour makes my knees weak as the dread settles in my stomach. The thin ring of violet light in his eyes is back…just like my dream. For a heartbeat, I cannot breathe, I cannot think. My body freezes as if my feet are stuck in an invisible quicksand.
He blinks, and it’s gone.
I let out a shaky breath, still hesitant to approach him, then River stumbles to my left, clutching his temples, the same sharp wince on his features.
“W-whats happening?” Panic claims my tone as he arches himself over a tree, retching.
“The pain,” River retches again. “h-his pain. I can feel it.”
Both boys wince as though a blade has struck straight through their skulls. This isn’t the first time indigo has reclaimed the dark whirl in Ryder’s eyes since the mountain, but it is the first time he’s reacted like this—like the serum is clawing at him from the inside out.
For a heartbeat, I’m torn between them, frozen by the impossible choice of who to comfort first. Nala rushes to River’s side, and I take a hesitant step toward Ryder—but he lifts a hand, urging me back.
“Stop.” He warns, keeping me at arm’s length.
“Ryder?” My voice catches, each breath pinching my lungs, but he breaks away, clutching his head as if he can drown out the pain.
“What’s happening?” I ask, trembling, my heart lurching against my ribs.
“The serum,” Ryder says between ragged breaths. “I’m fighting it.”
“W-what can I do?” Panic thins my voice. I glance at Nala, who mirrors my fear.
“You can leave me alone.” His tone is cold, final, though the pain has eased its grip on his face.
“I told you this was a bad idea. You mess with my emotions—” He swallows hard.
“It’s too dangerous. I’m too dangerous. I need you to keep your distance.
” His words cut me, and I know his throat pinches tighter with every word, each syllable a regret.
“How am I supposed to keep my distance? We’re stuck in the Hollow together.”
“I don’t care,” Ryder snaps, pushing himself to his feet and stalking a few steps away. “Figure it out.”
I move to follow, but Nala’s hand closes around my arm, holding me back.
“Just give him some space,” she murmurs.
Every instinct in me screams to chase him anyway.
River straightens, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Fuck this twin bond,” he growls, spitting into the grass.
The air feels thinner the deeper we go, and the cracks in the canopy are next to none.
If the sun came up now, at its weakened state, I don’t know if we’d know about it.
Though the light can’t pierce through its cracks, everything is still visible.
I can’t tell if it’s my eyes finally adjusting, or if the Hollow has its own kind of light—one that only reflects in shades of deep blues and muted greens, as if the darkness itself learned how to glow.
I haven’t spoken to Ryder since he told me to stay away, and the tension is still thick amidst the group. Every time I look at him, my chest feels like it’s being carved out, and the ground is being swiped from under me.
He’s right—he is dangerous.
But he was dangerous long before the serum seeped into his bones, and I accepted that. I don’t know what terrifies me more: the memory of his hands around my neck, or the thought of losing him all over again.
The twisted trees make eyes at me, every gnarled limb stretched out and beckoning us further into the Hollow.
Some resemble figures more than I would care to admit, their indents and marks likening to sunken, tormented faces that seem to be frozen mid-scream, and it’s hard to work out what’s a real threat and what is my eyes just playing tricks on me.
“Think you can help me move this?” Ryder asks, his eyes flicking only to River as he gestures at the fallen tree blocking our way. So this is what it’s going to be now. I might as well not even be here.
The two of them combine their strength to shift the trunk. Ryder barely strains—I guess he doesn’t have to, not with the serpent strength running through that arm. It’s funny, if the Hollow hadn’t swallowed our Gifts whole, River could have Influenced it out of the way with a single thought.
We keep walking until River missteps and suddenly drops out of sight, falling into some kind of hole. My heart dives with him.
“Are you okay?” I call, hurrying to the edge, the rest of my group at my side. Peering down, I see him sitting on the mud, looking more startled than hurt. When he stands, I realise the hole isn’t actually that deep.
“Shit! I did not see that there.” River exclaims from the dip, his fingers disturbing the strands in his mousy blonde hair. Ryder extends his hand, the veins in his arm pulsing lightly as he pulls River up.
The hole… It’s strange—too clean, too deliberate—and beside it is another, and another.
There must be a hundred of them. Not too wide, and not too deep.
I step over to the one that mirrors it, crouching to examine it more closely.
Each one sits a sensible distance from the next, spaced with precision, as if they were created in perfect tandem with one another.
Then my heart stops.
“What are they?” Nala asks, following my glare.
“I think they’re tracks,” I state, my mouth going dry at the realisation.
A heavy silence follows.
“Are you sure?” River asks, shaking his head. “B-but there’s so many of them.”
“She’s right, they look too organised, and look how they mirror each other.” Nala points at the indents. “They have to have come from the same creature.”
River gulps. “Gods, if that’s true, then it must be huge.”
“I think it’s best we don’t think about that,” I breathe, but a small glance at Ryder tells me he knows something.
“What is it?” I ask, but he shakes his head, barely catching my gaze. “‘If you know something, you should say it.” I walk the distance between us, but he turns on his heels to confront me.
“Dammit, Asha, I don’t. Okay.” He snaps, and I freeze momentarily. “Let’s just keep going.” He walks ahead, his blade carving the way. I know what he is doing… trying to push me away so I don’t get close.
I grit my teeth and look away, anger bubbling beneath my skin. He won’t even look at me.
He tried to kill me. He did.
And somehow, I’m the one who feels punished all over again.
I want to tell him I’d rather endure a million nightmares than spend a single second without him—because that’s all they are, nightmares. They’re not real.
But what we have is.
Still, I know he won’t hear any of it. Not really.
Not until we have the gem.
So as much as it hurts to bite my tongue, I do it.
Hell, I’d bite it clean off if it meant he would forgive himself.
“Massive tracks in the ground, sure, let’s walk towards them….why not?” River shrugs his shoulders, sarcasm oozing from his words.
More footprints appear the deeper the Hollow devours us, and soon the earth begins to tremble, groaning like something alive beneath our feet. River crouches down, his hand flat on the ground, trembling with the earth.
“Does the Hollow have a pulse?” he asks, his fingers sifting through the soil, though he is not met by an answer, just three pairs of furrowed brows.
“It feels like it’s… breathing.” his face contorts with a twisted mixture of shock and awe, wide-eyed at the subtle quaking of the ground.
We all feel it, the way it ebbs and flows beneath our feet, as if a current runs through it.
I wouldn’t be surprised if it were alive.
After the first trial, I’m sure it is sentient in some way.
“Everyone, stay very still,” Ryder says sternly, his eyes watching me carefully, the first time he has actually looked at me in a while. I avert my gaze quickly, noticing Nala trembling with the ground.
A sickly smell rises, damp and rotting, piercing through my senses. As buried roots unearth only an inch away from us, and we are forced to hang onto each other as the surface tilts and the trees creak in agony.
Then I hear it.
Scraping, dragging, screeching.
The earth uproots under my feet, like something long is moving beneath us, creating a patchwork of tunnels underground. Something huge.
A dark red, monstrous creature erupts from the ground, its long, rigid body armoured in plates that rasp together like sandpaper—one touch and it feels like it could flay the flesh from my bones.
Hundreds of spindly legs unfurl from each segment, moving in horrifying, perfect unison, stamping the same footprints we saw scattered across the forest floor.
Its head shines like a steel bowling ball, antennae slicing through the air, pincers snapping like tiny, vicious forearms.
I tilt my head, stunned. It’s a centipede, like the ones preserved in jars in the healing quarters, but I’ve never seen one this colossal. My body can’t process the creature fast enough, and I freeze inside its barbarous silhouette.
Nala yanks my arm to the left, and we tumble together, her panic throwing us to the earth. Salt-and-pepper spots flare in my vision, fading as quickly as they came. I spit out the dirt lodged in my mouth and slam the heel of my palm to the ground, hauling myself upright.
“Get behind me.” River orders as he stands in front of Nala and me. Ryder flashes me a look of concern, but I quickly avert his gaze.
A sudden roar tears through the air, a fierce claim on our souls, shaking the ground as violently as the trees it tore down.
“Everyone, be as still as possible…It can’t see you.” Ryder says, in a low whisper, and my heart pounds so loudly it is all I can hear. Nala’s hand still rests on my jacket, and I gently squeeze it in mine.
The creature rumbles toward us, each click of its jointed legs turning my stomach.
Its head snakes forward, tasting the air as though it can smell our fear.
Two massive pincers hover at its sides—silent promises of how easily it could tear us apart.
We stand together, rigid, feigning smallness and insignificance… yet still the monster leans closer.
Now we’re eye to eye with it. A wet, rotting breath washes over me, burning my eyes. Its antennae droop, questing through the air until their tips hover inches from my cheek. And then—
A sharp noise cracks through the dark behind it. The creature jolts, whips around, and in a blur of thrashing limbs, it dives into the earth, disappearing as if swallowed whole.
Only then do I realise I’ve been holding my breath. I let it out in a shaky rush.
My legs tremble as I remember how to stand, dragging in a steadying breath. We remain frozen a moment longer, listening, waiting—until the last faint tremor in the earth fades into nothing.
Before any of us can settle, River shoves a hand against Ryder’s chest, but he doesn’t budge, not nearly as much as River anticipated.
“You knew something, didn’t you?” River’s eyes narrow, sharp as blades. “Asha was right.” He jerks his chin toward me, and heat flares in my cheeks. “You knew what that thing was.”
He stalks toward Ryder, face flushed with anger, squaring up to him.
“Alright, alright…” Ryder lifts his hands, a crooked smirk tugging at his mouth. “You don’t have to do… whatever this is.” He gestures at River’s puffed-up stance. “I had a theory. I just didn’t want it to be true.”
“And you kept it to yourself!” River shoves him again, but Ryder shoves back, harder.
“River, stop.” I wedge myself between them, trying to diffuse their anger.
“No, Asha,” he snaps, eyes blazing. “We almost got fucking killed. What the fuck was that thing?!”
“A tenari. The giant centipede. They’re in Moon lore, but I thought they were extinct.” Ryder confesses. “I didn’t want to worry you all for no reason.”
“That seemed like one hell of a reason!” He gestures to the forest where the creature disappeared. “Giant eel then centipede, is everything in the Hollow on fucking steroids or something!?”
“It’s okay…” I say, my eyes locking on River’s.
“No. First the Nightboat, and now this?” River snaps. “What else isn’t he telling us? Does he have some kind of manual on the Hollow that we don’t know about?!”
“That’s fucking ridiculous,” Ryder says, rolling his eyes.
“Is it?” Nala steps forward, voice low but steady.
“‘Cause from where I’m standing, I’ve seen stranger things.”
Silence slams down between us, and my thoughts scatter. Part of me wants to believe Ryder, but this seems too much of a coincidence.
“Asha,” Ryder says, finally looking at me for the first time all day. “Tell me you don’t believe this bullshit.”
“Well…” I pause in thought, my eyes dancing over his. “How did you know about the Nightboat?”
“I just did, okay?” His jaw tightens. “Do I need to remind you that I saved all your lives? Again!”
“If you’d told us the truth in the first place,” River growls, “we wouldn’t have needed saving.”
“Oh, great. I’m the bad guy again.” Ryder knits his brow. “Why does it matter how I know, aren’t you glad I did… We would be six feet underground right now.”
He’s right. Maybe we should just be thankful for his knowledge, but I can’t help but think that he is hiding something and the way things are between us, it doesn’t look like I am going to find out anytime soon.
River crosses his arms. “Is there anything else you ‘just know’ that you conveniently forgot to mention?”
“No, that’s it, but I’ll make sure to tell you next time the thought of a prehistoric creature comes into mind.” He grabs his sword and marches into the brush, the blade whispering with every swipe.