Page 205 of The Knucker King

Many, many turns of seasons later

Avice sat blissfully content amongst their garden at the top of Knucker Hill. She brandished her quill, completing her description of the calendula entry. The leather-bound book was balanced on the top of her rounding belly. Bramble – who had been resting his head on her thigh – huffed as she wriggled to get more comfortable. She had found since her belly had begun to swell with her second pregnancy, she could not sit in the same place for too long.

“Be patient with me, Bramble,” she tutted. “I am bigger this time.”

I am being patient, he retorted. It is just the moment I get comfortable you move again.

Ashling – who had been perched on top of her head – floated down and landed on Bramble’s nose.

“Imagine how Avice must feel then,” he chimed in.

The Grim pinned his ears back against his head. I apologise. I did not think about that.

“Quite alright,” she replied.

Avice touched her knuckle to the inked page, ensuring it was dry, before closing the leather-bound book. She sealed her ink pot and wiped the quill tip in the moss before packing it all away in her satchel.

“How many more entries?” Ashling asked, perching on her knee.

“So many more,” Avice sighed. “Every time I think it is done, I think of a dozen more herbs to include.”

After learning the Wulver alphabet, Avice had been determined to draw and write all her knowledge of natural medicines found in the woods and fields of Lamorna-in-Avalon. She had so many duties: her apprentices, clinics, midwifery, service to Eostre, and first and second pregnancies, so her journal turned into a project that had been many turns of seasons in the making.

“But, three entries are enough for today,” she added. “Besides, I am hungry. I hope they are back soon.”

Her cravings had been rampant this pregnancy. When she had admitted her desire for roasted boar, Trewoofe dutifully took their children on their first hunt. She had considered going with her family, but the idea of a little time to herself to work on her personal project was far too tempting.

As though she had summoned them, Bramble’s nose twitched in the gentle breeze. They are here!

A blink later, two young Dragons bounced onto the summit, racing towards her with excitement. Lowenna reached her first. The Knuckerling strongly resembled her father. She had seen ten turns of seasons, her scales were pearlescent, and a fine pair of horns curled back from her head. Her eyes, though, were Avice’s, and the colour of rich soil. In her Knucker body, she was far taller than her mother. Lowenna came to a skidding stop in front of Avice, Bramble, and Ashling.

“Mamm!” She hopped from paw to paw. “Jory and I tracked the boar!”

Jory was hot on Lowenna’s heels. His scarlet egg had laid dormant in their nest for the turns of seasons between Avice and Trewoofe’s Tail Tie and Lowenna’s birth. Then, a turn of season after she had been born, Jory had hatched. While Lowenna had inherited the ability to shift from Trewoofe, Avice had given Jory a drop of her blood to enable him to change between Drake and human.

He came to an abrupt halt beside his sister. While Lowenna was long and sinuous, Jory was all muscle and bulk. He kept his wings tucked neatly to his side. He had not attempted flight yet. He was nervous about the whole concept as his family was firmly bound to the land. His scales were crimson-red and stood out boldly amongst their green surrounds.

“Tas let us track!” He lashed his tail excitedly. “We scented deer, wolf—”

Avice smiled at the local endearment for father. From the day he was hatched, Jory had been accepted as their son, and he had seen them as his parents.

“And bear!” Lowenna interrupted.

“I was telling her!” Jory snapped.

“Do not fight,” Avice scolded. “I am sure you both tracked splendidly. It will not be long before your Tas will let you strike the final blow.”

Avice, using Bramble for support, managed to stand. Her round belly made it difficult, and she wobbled momentarily before finding her feet.

“You really think so?!” Lowenna asked excitedly.

Jory shouldered his sister playfully. “I wager I will the make the first kill.”

Lowenna let out an indignant hiss. “You will not!”

With that, her daughter pounced on her son. The two wrestled into the moss, knocking nose-itching pollen into the warm air and flattening bushes with slaps of their tails. Avice had been terrified when the two had first started playing so roughly. Trewoofe explained that it was normal for Dragonlings, as his deceased daughters had done the same. Bramble whuffed excitedly and ran circles around their game.

Avice rose her eyebrows at her children. “Hopefully this means they will sleep well tonight.”