Chapter 10
Trewoofe
The heat of her thighs against his crest had Trewoofe thinking that perhaps he had died and passed through Shimmering Veil into Paradise.
The Knucker, full of nervous energy, tried to keep himself busy while she was in her cottage.
The moments seemed to crawl by like a snail in the rain.
He raked his claws through a frozen garden bed while he waited for Avice.
He turned the soil, giving it the sky it desperately needed to be fertile again.
Trewoofe eyed the large, quartz stones that surrounded her garden and cottage. He flicked his tongue at the largest and tested the surface with the point of his talon. It hummed and he cocked his head, ears flicking at the pleasant tone.
Why have a stone circle, but not have it imbued with magic? Why set down warding quartz and have no protection?
Just as he had done with the ancient stones surrounding his garden and well, the Knucker pressed a forepaw to the largest, nearly up to his shoulder.
Within, his magic travelled from his marrow, echoing through bone and out to his muscles and tendons, eventually pulsing from him into the stone.
A wave of translucent purple burst from the point of contact.
Trewoofe chuffed satisfactorily as he watched the magic dance from stone to stone, eventually joining them all in an unbreakable chain.
Finally, the ward shifted and set unseen, pealing with a soft chime.
Without a moment for the Knucker to blink, a Pillywiggin, red and raging, came flying at his head.
In his periphery, Trewoofe saw him coming.
He turned to bare his fangs at the Good Neighbour.
He caught the Pillywiggin in his front teeth.
With a quick flick, he tossed him into the snow, licking a drop of sky-blue blood from his snout.
The Knucker stalked past the shrieking Pillywiggin and made his way over to the holly bushes at the other side of the garden.
“If it was not clear. No Pillywiggin is to touch anyone inside this circle with the intent to harm and now – thanks to my magic – no one can,” he hissed into the spiky leaves.
A female Pillywiggin, Trewoofe knew it was the Queen, leapt out of the bush and landed at his paws with a dull thud.
“You did not need to hurt him; I heard his shrieks from all the way over here,” she chittered, her fangs glinted in her lipless mouth.
“I needed to, because he intended to harm. No one is to touch my little witch or the friends she brings here. I saw the lump on her head, and if one of you hurts her again, I will eat the lot of you.”
The Queen’s wings flicked, sending a shimmering cloud of indignation around her. “Understood, Well King.”
Trewoofe huffed, satisfied that between his stone circle and his threats Avice would be safe in her cottage, even from the Good Neighbours. He rested on his forepaws, tail swishing impatiently as he heard the dull thuds of frantic footsteps echoing through her cottage.
After what felt like eternity, Avice burst through the creaking door, slammed it shut, and turned the clunking lock with one well-practiced motion. He watched as she tucked the leather-strung key back under her bodice. She made a determined march back over to him, Bramble trotting on her heels.
The bulging satchel bounced on her hip, with a thick, woven strap cutting across her chest. Trewoofe admired the resolute expression on Avice’s face. Chin jutted up, scarred mouth in a straight line. She stopped in front of him and offered him a dazzling, grateful smile.
She readjusted the strap over her shoulder. “May I climb on?”
“Of course,” Trewoofe replied, offering his head. “Hook your water bags on to my horns, as I said, I will attend to those and deliver them to your cottage. Then I will wait for you outside of your patient’s residence. I will not have you walking home in the dark.”
“Human births can be long, Lord.” Avice slid the bags on, before clambering up to her previous spot, right over his crest.
“I said, I will wait for you.”
Trewoofe stood, shaking the frost that had begun to cling to his scales with a languid roll of his body, eliciting a gasp from Avice. He turned his gaze to the Grim waiting at the end of the garden path, just at the edge of the stone circle.
Follow me, Bramble barked, before slipping into the night.
Being a farmer, the dwelling of the family with the labouring mother lay on the outskirts of central Lamorna.
Trewoofe was grateful for this. The Knucker was unsure whether his ability to travel unnoticed would still work with a human attached to him; he had never allowed himself to be ridden before, and he felt a thrill at the illicitness of it.
More chance of being seen.
Bramble finally came to a skidding stop in the pitch of the night. The only illumination came from the gaps under the door, and between the edges of the fastened shutters of the cottage.
A loud, primal groan emanated through the silent night. Concern twisted Trewoofe’s gut as he lowered his head. Avice slipped from him before he had completed the movement, landing with a wobble on her booted feet.
She began to dash to the door, before turning back to him. “Thank you, Lord!”
Trewoofe dipped is head in acknowledgement. The bags fluttering either side of his head, buffeted by the wind. “I will be here when you are done and will take you home.”