Page 49 of The Knucker King

“Yes, little witch?” he replied, barely awake.

Avice smiled at his name for her; he was still with them. “We are going now. You must help Bramble and I and try your best to walk without leaning on us too much.”

He looked down at her with hooded eyes, the vaguest hint of a smile on his lips. “I am going with you?”

“Yes, you are coming home with me.”

18

Chapter 18

Avice

In hindsight, Avice was glad she had blurted out she was bringing Trewoofe home. There was no chance she would have been able to help him up Knucker Hill and into his well. Her arm throbbed and sweat slicked strands of hair to her neck and forehead by the time her cottage was in sight. Muscles she did not even know she had screamed in protest as she, Bramble, and Trewoofe stalled just outside the boundary stones of her garden.

“I need to catch my breath,” he whimpered, leaning more heavily onto her.

“Lord, we are nearly there,” Avice encouraged. Trewoofe whimpered and clutched his middle. “What is it?”

She pulled back the cloak that loosely hung around him and sucked in through her teeth. The bandages were saturated silver and blood dripped down onto his bare feet.

“I will need to sew you up when we are inside, but we must get inside now, before it gets dark. The Nightly Neighbours may come for us.”

King Trewoofe, please do not put Avice in danger. If we stay out here, she is at risk, Bramble explained, before taking the cloak in his mouth and tugging.

That spurred him onwards, and the trio crossed over into the garden.

“They will not be able to get you now,” Trewoofe said, gesturing towards the quartz boulders. “You are safe in here.”

Avice frowned up at him. “What do you mean?”

“My protection, like up on Knucker Hill,” he mumbled. “It is safe. No one can pass through if they mean to harm you.”

Avice nodded and stored that precious information away. She stood on tiptoes and stretched upwards, wrapping Trewoofe’s quivering arm around her shoulder.

“Nearly there,” she encouraged.

Shuffling up the frozen path, their laboured pants misted into the twilight. Avice paused outside of the cottage door and had Trewoofe lean on the wall while she fiddled with the key and lock. The door flew open with a creak and she heaved him inside, locking away the Winter.

His horns immediately tangled into the hanging herbs that criss-crossed the ceiling. Avice recoiled as he tried to free them with a jerk of his head, sending thousands of tiny leaves in all directions throughout her home.

“Lord! STOP!”

Trewoofe was still. He gave her such a pitiful look that she snapped her mouth shut, swallowing the scolding she was about to give him for ruining her well-organised medicines.

“Let me help?” Avice offered.

“Please,” Trewoofe replied, glancing up to the tangled mess above and clutching his bleeding torso.

What can I do? Bramble asked.

She snapped her head left and right, wishing that the Grim had hands so he could pick up a broom.

“Let me tend to the Lord,” Avice said, dragging over a chair with her good arm to where Trewoofe was stuck. “Greet Ashling and, if possible, get him to warm the place more.” She took Trewoofe’s shaking hand and pressed it to her cheek. “He is freezing.”

The Grim wagged his tail. Alright.

He padded over to the hearth, giving the Wisp a yip as he floated up from the fire.