Page 9 of The Knucker King

“That is true, King, but it has been many turns of seasons since we have had a human child. Since we have taken sanctuary in the Underneath, under your care, we have not even a seen man, woman or child,” the male responded, taking a step forward. “Is the wailing why you ask?”

Trewoofe twitched the end of his rudder-like tail at the question. It is not the baby’s fault she is distressed. He opened his paw and lowered the child, so she was at eye-level with the Piskie guards. “This is Hope. I ask that you raise her amongst your kind. She will not survive long in the world above.”

The female Piskie handed her spear to the male. With long, spindly fingers, she unwrapped the crusty blanket from the baby. She gasped. Her insect-like eyes widened at the sight of the external intestines now tangled with the umbilical cord and after birth.

“Poor child,” she cooed. “She will recover well with Piskie magic.”

“That was what I had expected when I brought her here.”

The female’s long hands wrapped around the baby, gently lifting Hope. The Faerie’s fingers felt hard and twig-like as they brushed against his scales, so different from the soft caress of the back of Avice’s hand.

“We will look after her, Lord,” the Piskie female promised, turning away from the Knucker.

“Wait!” Trewoofe ordered, stopping the Faerie in her tracks.

“Lord?” she questioned, a fearful look on her face.

“I wish to say goodbye to Hope,” the Knucker replied, lowering his head so the tip of his snout pressed against where Avice’s had kissed. He felt the soft thrum of her pulse through her fontanelle. They are so fragile, so delicate. He gave the tiniest flick of his forked tongue onto the very top of her head. “Farewell, little one.”

“Is it fine for me to fly down with her, Lord?” the Piskie female asked. “My brother will stand guard, and I will send another to join him in his watch.”

Trewoofe gave a final glance down to the child. “You may descend.”

“Thank you.”

The Knucker watched as the Piskie walked to the edge of the abyss, spread her wings, and jumped. He felt an envious twinge as she took flight, before beginning a slow descent. Trewoofe heard the echoing reverberations of her wings as he turned away.

Knuckers are Dragons of earth and water, he reminded himself, trying to ignore the jealously he felt. There is pride in being able to swim better than an otter and dig better than a fox.

Relief washed over him at the completed task. Trewoofe stretched out the forelimb and paw that had clasped Hope to his chest, working out the stiffness. He continued to straighten his long body, sending a roll down his coils, the lustre of them refracting the colours of the surrounding, humming crystals.

Avice will be happy.

The thought of his little witch sent a twitch of desire through him again. He ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth. He had wrapped it around her to aid in the recovery of her injured wrist. It had the unexpected, but welcome, outcome of leaving the taste of her on him – honey and lavender.

Trewoofe felt the blood begin to rush to his crest again, and a roll of craving travelled down his body. Confused, he shook his head from side to side, before turning his attention to the river beside him. He leapt, diving through the water as effortlessly as a fish. The Knucker let the gentle current take him, excited for the next visit from his little witch.

5

Chapter 5

Avice

It took Avice the descent down Knucker Hill to realise that her wrist no longer throbbed. She half-slid and half-climbed down the steep mound, and it dawned on her that she had been using both hands to do so.

At the base, she held up her wrist to her face and studied it carefully. Besides being lacquered in Trewoofe’s dried saliva, there was no sign of injury – gone was the rapidly spreading bruise and red swelling.

In all the excitement, I did not even think to ask what he was doing.

She opened and closed her fist, then flexed her soiled fingers, staring in wonderment at her healing.

Avice, Bramble interrupted. It is not long until nightfall and the rain will come any moment.

The midwife snapped from her awe and tilted her chin up. Her Grim was right. The grey sky was rapidly dimming and the clouds smelt heavy with rain. The shadows from the surrounding trees cast long shadows around them.

“How is it so late already?” Avice grumbled.

She started at a quick march through the woods, making like an arrow released from a bow, straight towards her cottage.