Page 159 of The Knucker King

She was pallid. Scarlet blood stained her skirts and leg and pooled onto the granite beneath her. A vine was wrapped around her waist, and her chest was ragged in its pattern. She was behind iron, and it seemed like the ivy had been working at releasing her. Trewoofe – ignoring the burn of the metal – wrapped his talons around the bars. He tore them away and tossed them onto the granite with a sharp clang. He ripped a space wide enough for him to shove a paw through and try to rouse her.

“Avice?”

The briars around his heart tightened when she did not answer. He shoved his head through, ignoring the scald of the iron against his scales. His tongue felt the rip in her dress. He probed beneath her clothing. Trewoofe found the gash she bled from and touched the bruises over her ribs. He licked a stripe over her wounds, his saliva sealing up the cut and banishing the welts.

Her eyelids fluttered open. “Lord?”

Her voice was quiet.

Too quiet.

“Oh, little witch,” he croaked.

She looked so small, so vulnerable, amongst the vines and iron. It started to rain; the gentle droplets smattered his scales and her skin.

“You came for me, you healed me.” She reached to touch the very tip of his nose.

Her hands were trembling, and her fingers were frozen. He saw how swollen her bound hands were. Trewoofe used the tip of a fang to slice away the rope before running his tongue over her palms. The colour of her skin improved, but she was still frigid to touch.

He pressed into her caress. “Of course.”

“Lord…” Her voice cracked. “It is too late. I have lost too much blood.” She closed her eyes and raggedly wheezed. “Before I…” Her throat bobbed. “I need you to know. I love you.”

“I love you too.” A single silver tear streaked down his muzzle. “What can I do to help you with losing too much blood?”

She did not answer.

His resolve hardened, he would not lose her.

“I will save you.”

On impulse, Trewoofe opened his mouth wide. He wrapped his jaws tenderly around her body, careful not to cut her with his fangs. He held her there, resting on his tongue. She would be safer in his mouth than anywhere else until he got her to his Kingdom. He lifted his head from the scalding iron cage. The metal had carved through his scales, drawing silver blood. He would take her to the Underneath. The combination of the healing waters, the singing crystals, and his saliva would save her.

They had to.

He stood straight and came face to face with the towering Morgawr. Treth looked awful. There was a patch of seaweed over his missing eye, gashes all over his body, and scabbing flesh where his scales were missing. Trewoofe had not sensed the Sidhe King approach. He had been too preoccupied with Avice; all his focus had been on saving her. He could not open his mouth to roar a warning. Treth lowered his head but tilted his chin towards the grey sky. The Morgowr was showing Trewoofe his throat, the ultimate sign of submission between Dragons.

“I come only for fisher,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “The little fisher found me and told me the humans here had hurt him.”

Trewoofe rumbled a warning but dipped his head in direction of the unconscious John, who was still sprawled on the deck of the gallows.

“Thank you, Well King.”

Trewoofe watched as Treth gathered John in his own mouth, turned tail, and bolted for the coast. His protective instincts of Avice won over the drive to pursue and kill the Sidhe King.

The rain had increased from a smatter to a downpour and soaked him down to his bones. He turned from Lamorna and streaked across the landscape in the direction of Knucker Hill.

58

Chapter 58

Trewoofe

Like the rainstorm rolling across the land above, Trewoofe thundered into the below. He dove through the well and swam down the river that flowed to his personal cavern, heaving himself onto the bank closest to his nest. He lowered his head, opened his jaws, and used his tongue to gently deposit Avice into the blooms.

Trewoofe studied her, waiting for the rise and fall of her chest, or the hint of a flutter at her throat. Avice took a ragged, shallow breath. She was paler than he had ever seen, and dark circles bagged her sunken eyes.

He nuzzled her. “Avice, I have brought you home.”