Page 160 of The Knucker King

She did not answer.

Trewoofe whimpered. He ached to hold her, press her close to his chest so he could feel her heart thrum in time with his own.

He changed, folding down into his much smaller form. It hurt a little, shoving so much of his being into such a miniscule space. With a roll of his shoulders and flex of his jaw, everything clicked into place. He swept Avice into his arms and pressed her to his chest. She was smeared with a combination of her blood and his saliva. Just as she had taught him, he touched his clawed fingers to her throat. Her pulse fluttered like a tiny fledgling battling to stay on the wing. His eyes followed the whorls of red and transparent liquid on her pale skin.

Trewoofe’s mind turned. “Blood is made of water…”

He looked to the flowing river; its surface was sparkling, shimmering, and oh-so-inviting.

He flicked his gaze to Avice’s lips. “I will not let you die. If your soul leaves your body, I will tear down the Shimmering Veil and bring you back. Nothing will keep me from you again.”

Like a clumsy Knuckerling, Trewoofe blundered into the river until the healing waters reached his chest. He jiggled Avice when she had no reaction to the change, trying to rouse her. He lowered his sharp chin to the surface. If this did not work, he did not know what he would do. Trewoofe slurped the water into his mouth and stored it in his puffed-up cheeks. He shuffled his arms around so he could cradle her with one and use his other hand to pull down her chin. He pressed his mouth to her cold lips and pushed the waters into her. He tilted her head back and watched as she weakly swallowed.

“I knew you could do it,” Trewoofe whispered. “You need more.”

He repeated the process: cradling her against his chest while he fed her the healing waters. Trewoofe reached his magic out to the sparkling, pollen-heavy air, coaxing the crystals to increase their hum. Just as Avice had explained, the three of them together – the King, the waters, and the crystals – were far more effective together.

After more mouthfuls then Trewoofe could count, he paused and studied her face. She was still pale, her chest still ragged, and when he pressed his fingers to her throat, her pulse struggled.

“Please, Avice,” Trewoofe begged. “I would be lost without you. Remember all we had to do? Reading, swimming, stopping the Spriggan, figuring out a way you can help your mothers and babies, and having our own family.”

Silver tears ran down his cheeks and joined the gentle flow of the healing waters. He gave her another mouthful from the river. He was so focused on only her, that he had not even heard the approaching steps until a soft voice called out.

“Lord?”

Trewoofe startled. He pressed his soul-bound tightly to his chest and hissed until he realised it was Olwilla who stood on the bank.

The Wulver Queen held up her paws in surrender. “It is just me, King Trewoofe.”

He dropped his shoulders and returned his gaze to Avice’s face. “Nature’s blessing, Olwilla, you must not creep up on me like that.”

“There was no creeping, I swear it,” she promised. She cocked her head at him and ran her eyes over his human form. “This is… new.”

“Yes, I adopted this shape so she could save me after I removed the iron from my Kingdom,” Trewoofe murmured. “We owe her everything.”

His tears stung him as he recalled Avice had saved him but now it seemed like he could not do the same. It was then he remembered that he had sent Ashling to ask the Wulver to save Bramble.

“The Grim?” he asked. “Did you find him?”

Olwilla dipped her head. “Yes…” She showed him her burnt paws. “We got the iron off him, gathered her belongings there, and brought him to Wulver-led to treat him.”

Grief clawed at Trewoofe’s throat. “How is he?”

“We have him soaking in healing waters. We are hopeful he will live, Lord…”

“But?” he pushed.

“He may never be the same, the wounds, the iron. We will not know the extent of the damage until he is awake,” she explained.

Trewoofe nodded sadly. “And Ashling?”

“Will not leave Bramble’s side. We keep asking him to rest, but he refuses. He is perched on the Grim’s nose, and we are worried he will fall asleep and fall into the bath we have him in.”

He smiled weakly at that; it sounded just like Ashling to do his best for his family. “Start a small fire near where Bramble is soaking. Tell him to have a nap in the coals, he will sleep in there.”

Olwilla wagged her tail. “Yes, Lord. We will try that. What would you like us to do with the items?”

Trewoofe mulled on that for a moment. He peeked down Avice’s bodice and checked for her breathing while he was at it. Her key and pendant were gone. She always wore them. For them to be torn from her… What had they done to her? He seethed at the thought of their hands on her. He hoped that their number was among the ones he killed when he went to save her. If not, he knew he would be returning for them.