Chapter 22 #3
“Into the river,” she ordered. “It will heal you, and then I can finish gathering the crystals.”
She helped Bramble down into the shallows. The blood that clung to his fur washed away in the sluggish current. He bobbed there, before letting out a contented pant. A cloud of his breath misted on the water before it disappeared.
Avice knelt on the bank, watching with a hopeful smile. “Good? Has it helped?”
Yes. Bramble closed his eyes in bliss. It is so warm; I feel like I could float here forever.
She chuckled. “When Trewoofe is better, I might ask him to bring us back down. I would like to try it.”
The Grim opened his eyes again, paddling over to her, head cocked curiously. You would come back?
“I… think so?” Avice replied, surprising herself. “With the King, we would be very safe.”
She tilted her head up and studied the cavern. Sweat peppered her upper lip, and she absentmindedly wiped it away. The Underneath was pleasantly warm. A lilting melody resonated from the many crystals, and she even fancied she could learn to swim and submerge herself in the sacred river.
Avice had always feared it would be too dark and too oppressive in Trewoofe’s Kingdom, that the all-encompassing gloom would choke her and she would be frozen to the spot forever in silent panic.
The opposite was true: the river, the geodes, even the air itself, illuminated it all with a soothing, gentle light.
It is not a cellar, and it is not a grave. She flicked her gaze down to Bramble. “How are you feeling? Ready to get out?”
I would rather not, Bramble huffed. But I feel we are short on daylight for the journey back, and the Well King needs his medicine.
The Grim hauled himself out of the river. Starting at his head, his ears flapping loudly, he shook himself dry. Avice tugged up the edge of her tattered cloak, shielding her face from the pelting droplets.
She dropped the material. “Feeling better?”
Bramble wagged his tail. Much. He tilted his head; gaze focused on her neck. Wash your wound, Avice, that will heal in the waters as well.
She touched the gash in her neck and lifted her fingers to her face.
Bright red was stark against her pale fingertips.
Avice nodded in agreement. She reached into the river, allowing it to pull away the blood from her stained fingers.
She cupped her palm and splashed the water up to her skin; a warmth tingled across her neck.
Avice marvelled at how she felt the skin knit together, reminding her of how she would darn a stocking with a hole in the toe.
“Will that do?” Avice lifted her chin so Bramble could study her neck.
Yes, her familiar replied with a wag of his tail.
With a satisfied nod, she stood straight.
Avice collected her abandoned knife and returned to her mission of prying the smaller crystals from the wall, popping them out with the tip of the blade.
She collected five, not wanting her load to be too heavy.
She swept back over to the riverbank and tugged on her gloves.
Her gathering complete, Avice and Bramble stood at the foot of the giant stairs.
Gulping, she thought the staircase may have as well have been a sheer cliff face.
She dipped with the weight of the two heavy bags.
She could already feel bruises forming underneath the pinch as the straps criss-crossed tight across her chest, biting her skin.
Bramble leapt, landing neatly on the step above. Shove them up one at a time, he suggested. Toss the strap over and I will pull while you push.
Avice nodded in agreement, sweat slicking the loose snarls of hair to her face and neck. “Good idea.”
Unstrapping the bag full of water from herself, she did as Bramble suggested and threw the strap.
The shadow quick Grim caught it with a snap of his teeth and hauled while Avice hefted.
She let out a small whoop of delight as the bag lifted and landed with a loud plop onto the step above.
They repeated the motion with the bag of gems, and it fell with a clatter.
Finally, the midwife hauled herself up, panting at the effort. Heat prickled her skin. She longed to discard her cloak, but she knew once they were out of the Underneath and the warmth of Knucker Hill, the endless Winter would grasp at her with its claws.
They repeated the routine: pushing, pulling, heaving, and hauling until the soft light of Trewoofe’s garden warmed Avice’s face.
She heaved the bags up, bracing her back, and tossed a strap over each shoulder.
Avice was drawn outside, like a moth to the flame, and exited the well at a brisk march with Bramble on her heels.
The brightness caressed her face, and she inhaled the floral scent of the breeze.
It blew over her sweaty forehead, offering her some reprieve from her efforts.
Avice knew if she stopped now to rest, she would not make it home before night fell.
After all, time passed differently once she crossed through Trewoofe’s stone circle.
Bramble nosed her quivering hand. Home?
She nodded. “Home.”