The Hollow

Qarittu

A hand grasped his shoulder from behind. "Of course I'm here for you," Shanayn said. "Here, and always."

Nom turned and tapped his fingers to his heart in gratitude. The men took their shoes off at the door. The main room of Nom's home was filled with a table and chairs, a cooking fireplace, plus cushions to the side for lounging. He was going to offer the cushions to Shanayn, but old Saythi was laying there, looking at them and wagging her tail. He didn't have the heart to move her, since she was frail these days, so he cleared off a chair. Shanayn batted a hand at him in refusal and sat down with Saythi. Nom walked past the pantry, and up to the second floor.

The bedroom was neat, sparse. A spare room on the far side was filled with extra junk. Saqu sat at her dresser, staring out the window. Her hand lay there holding a hairbrush, but she had not used it, nor the washbasin sitting half full, or the makeup sitting out. She never wore much makeup—they couldn't afford much anyway—but she used to enjoy wearing some. Nom had laid out her dresser, hoping that grooming would help her feel better.

"I brought you a new book," he said. He placed it next to a pile of other books she hadn't read, and strategically covered a dogeared Omnos pamphlet. He saw her in a way she couldn't see herself anymore, who she used to be, the person lost now in a desolate shell, and all the persons she might become to fill that emptiness, or not. Whoever she became, he wanted to be with her, wanted her there with him.

"I'll find her for you," he said quietly.

Saqu finally turned to look at him, with something masquerading as a smile. "You will? I haven't seen her in so long. Will she recognize me?" She set down a shard of glass she had been cradling in her lap, then started brushing her hair.

"I'm sure," said Nom, taking the broken mirror away. He grabbed his armor, his spear, and cloak, kissed Saqu on the forehead and stepped down the stairs.

"You'll find her," Saqu called out. "I'll be here once you do." Nom paused to listen, then descended, bid Saythi farewell, and set off with Shanayn to find Qarrittu.

They spent months searching the Hollow for her, traveling to where they thought the concentration of darklight would be greatest, much of the time trailing Omnos' dwindling horde. They heard countless horrible stories, and experienced plenty of their own. Nom would have been dead many times over if it weren't for Shanayn. In that time, all of Omnos troops died or deserted, leaving them without any leads.

"I have one last idea," Shanayn offered. "We've been searching for darklight. But what if we searched for you."

"Wherever I go, there I am. That hasn't helped," Nom said.

"Darklight is everywhere now, but the revenant is attached to you and Saqu. What are the places that mean the most to both of you?"

"Where we cremated Qarittu," Nom said, "or where Saqu and I first started socializing, or everywhere in between. It could be anywhere." He threw up his hands in frustration.

"Let's start at the beginning," Shanayn suggested, "and work our way to the end."

"Then we are on our way to battle some kites," Nom said.

---

"Oh yeah," Shanayn boasted, "that was some battle. You two are lucky I'm always there to save your butts."

Halqu laughed and raised a cup in cheers.

"At least this time it was before the Reticulum wine," Nom said drolly, and took a gulp. He gazed happily at all the kites soaring and swooping above the Cradle. He and his friends had won their first battle round that day, and were celebrating, mingling with the crowd.

"Yes, and a good thing you two didn't save any wine for me that day. I keep telling you to get a sword, Nom," teased Shanayn.

"Swords are not always the most effective," argued Halqu. "Sometimes you need the reach of a spear."

"It all depends on how you use it," a woman called out behind them, and several others started laughing. Nom laughed too, and turned to find Saqummatu sharing a beer vat with some friends. She flashed a smile at him, and called them over, passing out straws to each.

"Saqummatu," he greeted her.

"Da'āmu," she nodded.

He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise "So formal? No one calls me that."

"Dkheym, then," she said, putting her hand on his arm.

"Yes."

"Since we're friends now," she beamed, "call me Saqu."

He thought her smile would never end.

---

"Is that her?" Shanayn pointed with his sword hilt to an old gathering spot near the rim. No kites were flying that day, nor had for months, nor would again. No one had time for leisure anymore, scraping by to get resources however they could. Nom and Shanayn had to stay en guarde their entire trip back into Rabidi to avoid the roving gangs of pickpockets.

The grounds were unkempt and dirty, transitioning back into forestland. It was near sunset, cloudy, dim and hard to see, but a small pattern of black and white a short distance away was enough to catch Nom's eye. He stepped toward her, and she stepped away. He jogged a few steps, but she maintained her distance. He tried turning around and walking backwards. She always stayed twenty feet away.

"Qarritu, stay" he pleaded, and shuffled forward. Qarittu moved ahead, into the dying sunlight. Wind from the cliffs ruffled her dress, and her dark hair waved, shimmering with the red and gold of sunset. She looked older than he remembered, maybe five years, but still so small.

Shanayn caught up, placed his hand with the sword hilt on Nom's shoulder, and patted his chest with the other. His friend stepped forward, and Qarittu did not move. Shanayn and Nom nodded at one another.

"Wait," Nom said. He dug out the shard of Saqu's mirror and tossed it to Shanayn. "They say it helps with revenants." Shanayn gave it a little shake, tightened his lips, and strode forward. He slowly rounded the little girl, knelt, and gently put his sword down on the ground. Nom could see his lips moving, and Shanayn glanced back at Nom once while talking. Finally he stopped, appeared to sigh, and held out his hand. The girl reached out, took Shanayn's hand, then the rest was too fast for Nom to see.

Her other hand was on Shanayn's neck, and he screamed in pain, briefly, until she crushed his throat. A series of fleshy cracks sounded as Shanayn's spine bent in half backwards. His hips and leg joints popped as he was folded to the ground. His arms clenched reflexively, and there, in the last ray of sunshine, in the mirror Shanayn clutched in his dying hand, Nom saw his little girl's face.

She was sweet, and slight. She blinked her eyes, her mouth opened when she breathed, and her nostrils flared as she smelled the wind. Her soft baby face had hardened into features approximating those of Saqu's, or maybe his own. As he watched, her face seemed to shift, looked slightly older, more individual. Her reflection was lost as she stood up taller than before, and it was then that he realized what horror Saqu had wrought.

Nom sprinted forward, and the revenant skipped away, almost playfully. She loitered a few dozen feet ahead as Nom knelt by Shanayn. He was still alive.

"Oh, gods, Shanayn, I'm so sorry," Nom wailed. Shanayn moved his mouth wordlessly, managing only a gurgling sound as blood poured out his torn open neck. Nom held his friend's hand for seconds that seemed like an eternity. He held his own breath, waiting for Shanayn to let out his last, but it would not come. Finally with a sob, Nom grabbed Shanayn's sword and stood up. He thrust it through his dearest friend's heart to end his suffering.

Nom knelt there in the dark until he stopped weeping. When he looked up much later, the black and white pattern rippled, ghost-like in the night, near the cliff's edge. He threw the bloody sword angrily at the apparition, but the weapon clattered harmlessly over the edge and disappeared. He turned his back on the revenant, picked up his spear, and walked home to confront Saqummatu.