Page 123 of The Knucker King

“Is it ‘your’ Avice?” the Wulver Queen teased.

“It is.” Trewoofe knew it was time for a change in subject. “How are your pack? The mourning… I am sorry I could not attend.”

“We howled the songs to send Luc and Palla through the Shimmering Veil,” she said sadly. “But without you, we all would have died. You have nothing to apologise for, Lord.”

Emotions swirled within Trewoofe, sadness at the death of his Wulver subjects, but gratitude at the Queen’s kind words. “How is Boarden?”

She let out a happy bark. “He is wonderful, Lord. Tottering around now, nearly up to my knee.”

Trewoofe swished his tail happily at the image of the wolfish youngling wobbling behind his mothers. “I am glad,” he replied. “I have a favour to ask.”

“Oh? What is it that you need?” she asked.

“I want to bring Avice down to visit my Kingdom, she may even stay. The Tall Ones wrecked my cavern while I was above. I am restoring order currently. Would you mind tidying up for me?”

“You… you want us to tidy up for you?” she confirmed. “You do not mind us entering your cavern?”

“It would be very helpful to me if you did.”

He could practically hear her tail wagging on the other end. “Yes, of course we can, Lord! I cannot wait to meet your female when you bring her down.”

“Thank you, Olwilla. I will leave you now. I am on a mission to—”

“Kill the Prince Consort of the Tall Ones,” the Wulver Queen finished for him.

Trewoofe huffed, not dignifying the interruption with a response. “I will reach out again soon.”

He continued wriggling forward, forcing his long, lithe body through the tunnel. A final push, and he hauled himself free. He straightened his body, sending a ripple down his coils, easing out the stiffness from his limbs.

The cavern he entered was large and dotted with crystals along the walls, with many chimes and colours enveloping his senses. There was no river or lake here, the only hint of water was the vague echo of waves.

Trewoofe’s tongue brushed the air. He caught Orfeo’s rotten scent wafting amongst the salt on the air, emanating from the tunnel he was sure led to the coast. His need to protect Avice and punish the Tall One nearly drove him onwards, but he paused before he continued his hunt, his gaze sweeping to the many crystals embedded in the cavern walls.

Piskie-led has a red geode. He marched over to the closest one, squashed his paw to the gem, and pictured the red geode and Piskie-led in his mind. “Piskies, can you hear me?”

His ears twitched at the scrabbles and chittering that emanated from the crystal. He waited for an excruciatingly long time, fighting the urge to continue his pursuit.

A haughty voice finally answered. “King Trewoofe, is that you?”

“It is. I presume this is Queen Mab?”

“Who else would it be?” she answered primly.

The Knucker rumbled in his chest; she had always been a little proud. “I wanted to ask how Hope is faring?”

“She is wonderful!” she exclaimed, all the haughtiness had left her voice, and was replaced with warmth. “Getting tall now, dashing after the other Piskilings.”

Trewoofe chuffed contentedly at the news. “Thank you, Mab. I must continue with—”

“Slaying Orfeo so you may bring your woman to the Underneath,” she finished for him. “When can we expect more Knuckerlings?”

If Trewoofe was still in his human shape, he would blush. “How do you know about that?”

“The Knocker Queen told me. News spreads like wildfire amongst the Queens, you know,” she replied. “So, when?”

“Whenever my little witch is ready,” he grumbled. “Goodbye, Mab.”

He removed his paw before she had a chance to answer, and pressed his head against the wall, the sweep of his horns digging into the earth.