Page 45 of The Knucker King

He took step after laboured step.

Nearly there.

He finally hauled himself into his chamber, clambered up the side of his nest, and stumbled in. His limbs as weak as a fledgling’s wings, he was unable to catch himself and fell face first inside with a grunt. Trewoofe reached and squashed the pad of his paw onto the behemoth purple crystal.

“Avice! Avice, I need you!”

Trewoofe turned his head to retch, and he vomited up black sludge before touching the geode again.

“Avice… please. I am ill. Something happened. Come to my well.”

He placed his paw back to the bottom of his nest and squeezed his burning eyes shut. He prayed to Nature that Avice had heard him, that she would come. But now, he had to focus every last scrap of his dwindling energy to going up and getting out. Even if he died, he could not let it be here; his body would rot and release the miasma back into his Kingdom. Trewoofe clawed out of his nest and crashed heavily on the other side. He turned his bloody snout to the tunnel that would lead him outside.

17

Chapter 17

Avice

Avice and Bramble flew.

Her boots barely touched the ground before she lifted them again.

Sprinting out of Lamorna, she ignored any lingering villagers, saving her rage for when she found out who had hurt her sweet Knucker. His voice had sounded so weak, so scared; it struck her with terror at the thought of what she might find.

Avice barely registered the sting of the frigid air in her lungs or the aching of her calves as she dashed into the woods, heading straight for her cottage. When she arrived, she tripped over something as she barrelled in and out of her home, gathering whatever medical supplies she could think of. Then – like an arrow from its bow – she aimed herself for Knucker Hill, and for Trewoofe.

The rivers of silver cascading down the side of the barren mound caught her attention first. Avice’s gaze followed the trail from the summit to the base. Her stomach dropped at the sight of who was collapsed there.

“Trewoofe!” she cried, pushing her aching legs to run even faster.

What happened! Bramble dashed ahead and tossed his head over his shoulder, his nose wildly twitching. Can you smell that? Iron!

Avice sniffed the air; the scent reminded her of human blood and scratched at her throat. The closer she got to her Knucker, the more she feared she was already too late. Trewoofe’s pitiful state twisted like a knife in her gut.

He was the shimmering Well King.

But now, he looked like a shrivelled snakeskin.

Silver blood stained his face and body, and several scales were missing from his belly. Worst of all, he reeked of iron and the oil Avice had noticed on Father Peter back at the church.

Avice stopped and turned to her familiar. “You will need to stay back, whatever is wrong with him, it may affect you.”

Bramble bristled. I will not—

“Please. I cannot bear to lose you too,” she begged.

The Grim huffed but dropped into a sitting position, ears pinned back against his head. I will be right here.

“Thank you.” She patted his head. “You are a good boy.”

He whimpered and thumped his tail against the frost. I know.

Avice took the last dozen steps towards Trewoofe alone. A lump formed in her throat as she knelt beside his mighty head. She pulled off her gloves with her teeth and pressed her palms to his throat. A weak pulse thudded there. Relief washed over her; he was still alive.

She stood on her tiptoes and called into his ear, “Trewoofe?”

It twitched, and the lid of the eye closest to her flickered open.