BooksBarbecue
Back The Hollows
Chapters (77)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Dedication
  5. PART I
  6. 1.
  7. 2.
  8. 3.
  9. 4.
  10. 5.
  11. 6.
  12. 7.
  13. 8.
  14. PART II
  15. 9.
  16. 10.
  17. 11.
  18. 12.
  19. 13.
  20. 14.
  21. 15.
  22. 16.
  23. 17.
  24. 18.
  25. 19.
  26. 20.
  27. 21.
  28. 22.
  29. 23.
  30. 24.
  31. 25.
  32. 26.
  33. 27.
  34. 28.
  35. 29.
  36. 30.
  37. 31.
  38. 32.
  39. 33.
  40. 34.
  41. 35.
  42. 36.
  43. PART III
  44. 37.
  45. 38.
  46. 39.
  47. 40.
  48. 41.
  49. 42.
  50. 43.
  51. 44.
  52. 45.
  53. 46.
  54. 47.
  55. 48.
  56. 49.
  57. 50.
  58. 51.
  59. 52.
  60. 53.
  61. 54.
  62. 55.
  63. 56.
  64. 57.
  65. 58.
  66. 59.
  67. 60.
  68. 61.
  69. 62.
  70. 63.
  71. 64.
  72. 65.
  73. PART IV
  74. 66.
  75. 67.
  76. 68.
  77. Acknowledgements

“Yeah. It can mean ‘God’, same as gīml or hē. It also means ‘door’.”

Ellie peered into the hole beneath the slab, but hesitated to shine her torch down. “So I’m guessing here’s the way in.”

“And out,” said Charlotte. “Maybe not just for them either. Maybe this is where their god comes out into the world. When they’re done, I mean.”

“That’s probably the whole valley,” said Madeleine. “Maybe the hill as well. Or more. We don’t know how big, how many...”

“All right.” Jess pushed past them, a coil of rope over her shoulder. “Let’s not overthink it, eh? We’ve work to do. And not much time.”

Ellie hammered a piton into the ground to hold the rope in place; Jess tossed the rope down the sinkhole. There was a clink and clatter of loose, hard, light objects; the echoes faded, and there was silence.

57.

57.

“Who’s going first, then?” said Charlotte. Bravado, thin and brittle as eggshell.

No one answered. Ellie lit a road flare and tossed it down the shaft. Its scarlet glow washed out to illuminate a cavern strewn with pale rubble, and the smell of it mingled with odours of decay.

The whole cavern floor – what they could see of it in the flare-light – was carpeted in bones, which rose up into a hummock directly underneath the shaft. Some were white, others yellow or brown with age; some human, some animal. Ellie glimpsed the long beaky skull of a horse or cow, and a human one too small to be an adult’s. The flare kept burning; the only movement was the flickering of the light.

“Right,” Ellie sighed. “Here we go.” She gripped the rope and leant back at the edge of the shaft, letting it take her weight, then began climbing down.

The rope creaked and swayed. Suddenly the physical effort involved in the descent was daunting. There was surely no way Madeleine could manage it. Or Jess. Could Charlotte, even? The rope rocked and swayed with her weight and that of her rucksack; she tried not to think of the piton anchoring it in place. But at last her feet touched the hummock; Ellie steadied herself, then climbed down to floor level, swaying on the loose, sliding scree of bones. Ribs and scapulae cracked and clattered to the stone floor.

Unslinging the Ithaca, she swept the barrel around the cavern as the others climbed down, one by one. The cavern was roughly dome-shaped, its grey limestone walls almost entirely black with charcoal. Most of the markings were the now familiar hē and gīml; in places they’d been scored into the rock, too.