Down the Well by Veronica King

Author:Veronica King
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Inimitable Books
Published: 2023-12-05T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

The setting sun cast an amber glow on the fields of the valley. In the distance, nestled amidst the hills, Lore could see the lights of the town aglow. Pink fire.

“Mathilde.” Her voice sounded like that of a stranger. Certainly not her own. Her hand muscles throbbed, still feeling the strain of shoveling from earlier in the afternoon.

The mouse in question was sitting in silence beside the stone grave marker, her head leaning on it. She had been this way since the crowd retreated back to the safety of the town.

Lore could still hear Lyudmilla’s gentle warning before she, too, had left them.

“Crinkle didn’t want to frighten the town,” the wolf had said, “but a Grayshade very well could have broken through. I’ve seen them in action. Please don’t dwell here long after dark.”

“Mathilde,” she repeated. Her pleas were tight as the sun sank behind the twisted, mangled tree line that cradled the valley.

Large green eyes met hers. “Just a little longer, Human.” Mathilde’s voice faltered at the end.

“We don’t have much longer. You heard Lydumilla.”

Mathilde folded her hands atop the cold stone and tilted her head toward the forest line. “I’m not ready,” she insisted through bitter tears.

Lore’s knees hit the soft earth beside the mouse. “And you may never be.”

“He was there as I watched my parents torn limb from limb, you know.”

Lore’s jaw tightened. Not the time or place I was expecting this story.

“I watched as he and Lyudmilla fought back the altered spirits.”

If Lore squinted hard enough, she swore she could see the memory playing out on the glassy surface of Mathilde’s bloodshot eyes.

“My parents assured us before we left Taper all those years ago that the rumors were just that. Rumors. And that this was a new start for us. For our family.”

“I’m so sorry.” Lore leaned closer. If Mathilde decided she wanted a hug, she was there.

The mouse wiped her snout, and as her mouth opened, a guttural wail erupted from beyond the iron gates of the graveyard.

As bad as she felt about rushing her friend, she had to. “It’s time, Mathilde,” Lore insisted. “We have to go.”

For the first and only time during their acquaintance and unlikely friendship, the mouse’s face scrunched with panic as she grabbed Lore’s hand.

Without further delay, they rushed back to the enchanted pink fire dancing in the lanterns of Charmsend just beyond the hills.

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