Page 153 of The Knucker King

He did.

And the magic did not hurt her.

Avice saw the flash of silver and a river of crimson.

Jacob dropped to his knees, his eyes wide in terror while he let out a guttural gurgling sound. He opened and closed his mouth, as though he were trying to get air, despite carving his own windpipe. Avice sneered at him as he collapsed to the ground.

She darted over to Bramble and tried to free him of his prison. The links of the iron net were impossibly heavy, and each was thicker than her wrist. She braced and yanked, managing to free Bramble’s sizzling head. He reeked of burning hair, and the whisps of shadow burst away from his body in increasingly bigger flares. His pelt was soaked with his night-sky blood, and his muzzle was marked with a criss-cross of deep gashes.

Avice, run! he whimpered, trying to wriggle free as she strained to yank back.

“I am not leaving you!” she panted, managing to tug the iron back over his muscular neck.

Bramble’s eyes widened. Look—

She did not hear the rest as she was tackled to the ground, knocking the air from her lungs.

Something cracked.

Avice screamed.

Agonising, white-hot pain pulsed from her side.

She bucked and writhed under Robert’s brutal grip. Before she could pull more power from the earth, he slashed her side with his dagger. It added to the agony that throbbed from her ribs. He pinned her down beneath him, dagger tip on her throat.

“Be grateful…” he growled, sweat dripping from his forehead and onto her face. “…that I am not cutting out your witching tongue. You need it to repent.”

His weight crushed her. The torture from her cracked ribs and stab wound addled her mind.

Do not freeze. Do not falter.

Just as she opened her mouth to use her voice, Simon – his burnt fingers raw and weeping – stepped forward and shoved a gag in her mouth. He pulled it tight around the back of her tossing head and tied a complicated knot, ripping her hair from her scalp. Tristan – his eyebrows scorched off and flesh red – appeared again and offered Robert his hand.

The shepherd batted him away and sat up. He straddled her, pinning her beneath him. His knees squeezed against her, trapping her arms to her sides. His restraint made her sob beneath her gag. He tugged free the length of rope that hung from his belt. Robert wrenched Avice’s hands out and bound her wrists tightly together in a knot that immediately numbed her fingers.

Robert lurched up, heaving her up with him, and she managed to slip from his grip.

Avice tried to run.

Simon caught her before she had even made three strides. “You are not going anywhere but the village, witch.”

Simon stepped forward with a sack in his hands. Panic clawed at her chest as he shoved it over her head, completely stifling her senses. Beneath the suffocating linen, she fought back the urge to freeze.

Not the cellar. Never again.

Someone shoved her.

“Get moving! You have an appointment,” Robert chortled.

Avice dug in her heels. “Make me!” she snarled around the gag.

56

Chapter 56

Avice

Avice would not go gently to what she suspected was her doom. Why else had the men not been able to pass through the ward? They had come to harm her. It struck her then that Nell had not entered her garden either. She had called to Avice from beyond Trewoofe’s magic. Her stomach twisted at the realisation. They had manipulated Nell into luring Avice outside of her garden, promising the girl her brother would be safe.