A Hollow in the Hills Read Free

snarling, the taste of blood in his mouth and a white fire blazing in his head. The bodach reared over him, arms thick as tree trunks, a body like rock. Another blow like that would crush him. His head still ringing, he rolled and the giant creature slammed a foot down where his chest had been a second earlier. It laughed at him, stupid and conceited, but Jinx kept rolling and came up onto his feet, crouching low, ready. The bodach lunged again but Jinx twisted aside, just in time, and brought both fists down on the back of its thick red neck, ramming it face first into the floor. It went down in a heap, with little more than a grunt and a crash of flesh on flagstones. Jinx leaped on its back and slammed its head down again and again until it wasn’t fighting any more. It slumped there, its chest heaving up and down.
    Jinx straightened, wiping his face with his hand, and glaredat the crowd surrounding him. Some grinned, others muttered curses, but they still waited, mostly in silence. The bodach didn’t move.
    ‘A winner!’ The voice bounced off the copper dome of the Market’s ceiling and money slapped from hand to hand.
    In most hollows, the homes of the Sídhe, there were strict rules to be obeyed, and a matriarch to follow. Once they had been places of hiding, of safety, of absolute Sídhe power, places closed to all who did not belong there. Not here in the Market. Accessed from the gate in Smithfield, the Market was open to all, and money talked. All kinds of currency really, from euros to … well, anything … And anything could be bought. That was how Holly had liked it and even with her gone, the Market continued on its well-worn path unchecked.
    ‘Too quick, Jinxy-boy,’ said a drawling voice behind him. The Magpies stood there, pristine in their black and white, beady eyes fixed on him. ‘Not exactly entertaining when you finish them in a couple of heartbeats, is it?’
    Jinx lifted his head and fixed them with his most intimidating stare. Mags looked away, but Pie held out.
    ‘What do you want?’ Jinx asked.
    ‘Just watching the fight. You’re making quite a name for yourself. Or don’t you care?’
    ‘Silver isn’t going to like it, is she?’ Mags said, his tone darker. ‘She’s not going to like it at all.’
    ‘So?’ Silver was going to flip. He knew that. Because she already had several times. Silver didn’t like this and made herfeelings abundantly clear on the subject. And now more than ever she was someone whose word he ought to heed; she had bested Holly and driven her from the Market. There were rules about that sort of thing, old laws, older than anything. It meant Silver should take charge and be matriarch. No one had the power she had. No one had imagined Holly could be beaten, and yet Silver had done the impossible. He was her emissary now and that ought to mean he didn’t go around fighting for money. An emissary was a peace-bringer, she had told him in those measured, musical tones. The role protected him, and he could walk in the shadows, in the light, in the halls of her enemies. He really should take it more seriously.
    He didn’t like to fight, but he needed to. Little else made him feel alive. Silver couldn’t, and wouldn’t, stop him; she knew it wouldn’t do much good to try. Jinx just didn’t care anymore.
    Broken inside. That’s what he was. Completely and totally broken inside.
    He only had to look at those around him to see what they thought – that long-ingrained suspicion. He’d been Holly’s to the core, once. Not through choice, but who understood that? He was Cú Sídhe. They all looked down on him, despising him. By-blow, son of a traitor and an assassin, Holly’s dog.
    Holly was gone, slunk away from the Market in the chaos that followed Silver’s victory, and her people were only just beginning to actually believe they were free. Which meant their need for revenge where they could get it was beginningto bubble up from wherever they had hidden it