Chapter 67
Avice
Avice recoiled at the glare of Sunrise as they emerged at the top of Knucker Hill.
She slowly opened her eyes, allowing them to adjust to the light.
Awestruck at the change on the summit, Avice gripped Trewoofe’s horn, steadying herself at the back of his handsome head.
She looked up at grey clouds that blotted out the Spring Sunshine.
Avice scrunched her nose at the gentle rain. “It seems Knucker Hill has also been affected by whatever happened on Equinox.”
Life had exploded across the hilltop: towering trees laden with unnaturally large fruit, flowers and leaves larger than Avice’s hands, and even the ancient flagstones were covered in thick rugs of blossoming moss.
The smell was gorgeous, a delicious combination of sweet apples, petrichor, and pollen.
The rain continued its soft smatter, so she swept her hair back and knotted it at the nape of her neck to keep any wet strands from slipping into her eyes.
“Yes.”
Trewoofe did not move. Avice could sense his apprehension.
The last time he had left his Kingdom was to save her, and now he was bringing her back to Lamorna – the very place where she had nearly died; where she would have likely met her end if it was not for the Faerie trapped inside the church.
Avice hoped she would comprehend whoever was inside.
That by stepping into herself and her power, she would be able to understand what had happened, and what they needed.
Avice shifted her medical satchel out of the way and ran her fingers over his shell amulet.
She had been right; the vine they hung on grew as Trewoofe had grown.
“Lord, will you take me to central Lamorna?” She felt his pulse thrum up through her. It made her pearlescent scars hum. His heart was galloping. She realised that Trewoofe was not just apprehensive, he was terrified. “I promise, I will be safe.”
“How can you know that?” he asked.
“Because I have my magic, and I have you. We will be careful, and if it gets too dangerous, we will leave,” she promised, rubbing soothing circles between his horns.
Trewoofe huffed. “To Lamorna then.”
With how quickly her Knucker could move across the land – and how the plants bent to allow them through the woods – they arrived in central Lamorna before the Sun had even brushed the canopy.
As they entered the square, light filtered through the cloud and delicate raindrops kissed her skin and his scales.
Trewoofe lowered his head so Avice could dismount.
She slipped down easily and landed neatly on the balls of her feet.
Readjusting the strap of her medical satchel, she took a moment to survey the village.
Nothing was the same.
Time seemed to slow for Avice as she drank it all in.
The granite cobbles had been replaced by ivy vines thicker than her arms. They had interwoven to form a vast carpet that was soft underfoot.
The gallows and cages were swallowed by brambles, bulging with blackberries bigger than her fist. Vast swathes of dandelions and daisies popped up between the gaps in the rug of vines.
In her periphery, Trewoofe’s tongue flicked and tasted the air.
She flared her nostrils and drowned in the scent of the deep, the green, and new life.
“It is beautiful,” Trewoofe rumbled, “and looks nothing like when I came for you.”
Avice looked up at him. “How long ago was that?”
He titled his head thoughtfully. “It would have been five days ago now.”
There was no sign of Lamorna as she knew it. Everything made by humans had been covered by plants.
“All this, in only five days,” she murmured.
Finally, Avice’s eyes landed on the church, it had been completely swallowed by all manner of creepers. There was a man walking away from the writhing, vine covered door.
She waved at him. “Mister Matthew!” she called out to Emma’s husband. “Are you well?” He jolted at her greeting, letting out a peculiar noise that reminded Avice of a squawking bird, before he dashed away. She blinked in surprise as he fled out of sight. “Well, that was odd.”
“Did you forget I was here?” Trewoofe chuffed.
He strode ahead of her, his talons tapping softly against the vines.
“I killed many men that day. He took one look at me and fled.” His red eyes were vulnerable in the gentle light.
“Only Gardener witches have not feared me through all my many turns of seasons.”
“I did forget.” She frowned at the church. “Not that you were here, but that the villagers would be afraid of you.”
“That is because you have a kind disposition towards me,” he chuckled.
She smirked before following him. “Slightly more than ‘kind’.”
Resisting the urge to run, Avice stood at the obscured entrance to the church.
Trewoofe is with me. I have no need to flee and I am not afraid.
He touched the very tip of his snout to the small of her back, supporting her quaking legs.
She studied the writhing flora. Massive flowers, thick green vines, and even giant blackberries cover the grey stone.
She touched the squirming ivy that covered the large arched doors, sparking magic flowed up her arm, and made her sigil twitch.
“Let us in,” Avice whispered. “We are here to help.”
Behind her, Trewoofe rumbled his surprise as the ivy untangled itself. Rustling, it drew back and presented the battered church door.
Avice swallowed her nerves and dipped her head at the vines. “Thank you.”
“Little witch, I cannot fit through there,” Trewoofe observed.
Avice studied the formerly grand double doors that would be thrown open every Sunday when Father Richard, and then Father Peter, would shepherd their flock inside. The men would preach of the Cross God’s love, but also the eternal punishment bestowed if you were not obedient.
“You can shove your way through,” Avice said, sticking her chin out with grim determination. “If this Faerie is where I think they are, then I will need your help to release them.”
“Release them?”
“You will see,” she promised.
Avice gripped the mottled handle and heaved. The door budged a sliver, creaking loudly, before snapping back. On closer inspection, she saw the hinges and frame had swollen from the contact with the plants and were too big for the spaces they filled.
“Allow me,” Trewoofe offered.
Avice stood back as he slotted his talon tip into the rusted handles and yanked. He ripped the arched doors from the frame. She chuckled deviously as it smashed against the ground before turning back to the gloomy entrance.
That is when Avice heard it.
“Help me.”
The voice was fading, and distinctly feminine.
“Do you hear her?” Avice asked.
Trewoofe lowered his head. “I can.” His ears pricked as he focused on the murkiness ahead. “There is a Faerie Queen in there, and she is weak.”
“A Queen!” Avice gasped. “How could a Queen be in there?”
“She needs our help,” Trewoofe asserted, nuzzling into her.
Neither moved.
She grasped her pendant, squeezing so hard the edges dug into her palm. How much damage had been inflicted on them by the church? How deep were the wounds? For both, this so-called ‘House of God’, was the last place they wanted to be.
“Now or never,” she murmured.
Avice steeled herself and stepped over the threshold. The plants had not penetrated the interior and her scruffy boots tapped loudly on granite floor. She wrinkled her nose at the staleness of the air. When she exhaled, her breath misted briefly more dissipating.
“Help me.”
Avice squinted down the nave. The cut of light from behind her illuminated the cross that hung above the pulpit.
A thunderous crack made her flinch, and she covered her ears at the sound of splitting stone.
She watched Trewoofe shove his head through the arched entry way.
His horns ripped free the oaken frame, and Avice stifled a giggle as it hung around his upper neck like a collar.
She brushed the dust and pebbles from his muzzle as he wriggled past her.
Trewoofe jostled his shoulders through – the widest part of his body after his horns – and crawled the rest of the way inside.
He ripped the doorframe from his neck and tossed it into the pews with an ear-splitting crash.
Her Knucker sent a roll down his coils and dug his talons into the stone, sending spiderwebs of cracks in all directions.
“I do not like it in here,” he grumbled.
“Nor do I,” Avice agreed, rubbing circles on his bicep.
His unceremonious entry had split the walls wide enough that more beams of light illuminated the interior. Avice could see clearly now, and all her focus pinpointed to the massive hanging cross. She marched down the aisle, aiming for it like an arrow released from a bow.
“She is in there, I am sure of it,” she said, glancing back at Trewoofe. “Do you think you can take it down?”
He puffed up his chest. “Of course I can.”
Trewoofe strode ahead of her, flicking his tongue at her nape as he passed her. Avice giggled and rolled her shoulders at his caress. Before grounding herself back to the gravity of the moment, she allowed herself to feel joy at his touch, and gratefulness for her Knucker’s presence.
Avice grasped her pendant as he stood on his hind legs, using his long tail for balance.
Trewoofe stretched to his full height, until his horns scraped the roof, knocking loose the clay tiles.
Using his dextrous forepaws, he reached for the gleaming cross.
He wrapped his talons around it and wrenched it free from the iron rings that held it in place, tossing loose dust and pebbles.
She gritted her teeth as he waddled backwards on his hind paws, pressing the cross to his belly, and teetered for a moment.
“Be careful!” Avice shouted.