Monksville’s True King – The Monksville Chronicles #88

A small circular wave in the surface quickly smooths out after Buggaboo hits the water. It’s cold, shock your system cold; for a moment that stretches on far too long he floats frozen in the grasp of the Res’. The panic has set in and it’s set in deep, with no intention of relinquishing its hold, and yet Buggaboo persists. He is strong, he is mighty, and thus his eyes snap open. Bubbles rise sideways from his left nostril. He follows them and breeches the surface.

From the look of his surroundings, Buggaboo made it about a quarter of the way to the larger of the two islands before giving the owl the slip. He has a long, waterlogged journey ahead of him, a journey he’s not sure he’ll be able to finish. Buggaboo’s never swam before, never so much as touched the water with more than his nose, and even that was an accident – he had a mighty thirst in dire need of quenching. He could turn back a–… no, the owl is surely waiting for him to do just that. The wicked owl probably broke into his mind and influenced his thoughts just now, a sick sort of hypnosis to lure its prey back onto dry land. Despicable; no, Buggaboo must paddle across the mighty Monksville Reservoir until he reaches the safety of the larger island… but then what?

Buggaboo supposes he’ll have to figure it out when he gets there. Thus begins the swim.

As he effortfully paddles, fighting the resistance he’s given by the soaked patagium between his arms and legs, Bugga’s waterlogged mind wanders off for higher ground. What had been the plan, to just glide on forever? Even in his panicked state ‘Gaboo couldn’t possibly have believed he would make it all the way across the Reservoir, and even if he did, what would he do upon making land at the larger island? He would push on to The Crater, of course… but what about Nudderbudder? He couldn’t have decided to stay in that same tree hollow after Buggaboo left, dude’s a ground squirrel (and a rude one at that) but he’s not a total ‘munkie. That means they would likely run into one another again… but would that be the worst thing in the world? Yes, they got into a mean tiff, but they could still be friends. Surely they could still be friends.

It’s decided, then – the race for The Crater is on. There are ample burrows out there, according to Nudderbudder, and even if they’ve all been filled, surely at least one tree in the area has grown a hollow for a denizen to inhabit. Even if that tree hollow is too small for both himself and Nudderbudder to share, Bugg’ could find another. Besides, the eagles are strict diurnes, as most Birds of Prey are – so long as he hides his acorns right they’ll not cross paths once. Wishful thinking, perhaps, but far preferable to the opposite.

Seated deeply within his own head Buggaboo paddles on and on, unaware of the hungry lakebreather who tails him from the drowned Wanaque Riverbed, a lakebreather whose father once gripped the throat of Monksville tight in his toothy maw, an apex lakebreather who has resided in the weedy bottom of Muskellunge Cove ever since he saw The Giant dispatch Monksville’s mad monarch but a mere season before The Beast howled forth.

Below the flying squirrel trails Leonidas, Monksville’s true king, the one lakebreather to rule them all.


This has been the sixth subchapter of the last chapter of the book The Monksville Chronicles. Here is everything you need to know about it:

The Monksville Chronicles

I’ve written a few other books, too. Even fixed the link. Click here to see the list.

If you’re there, hypothetical reader, thank you for being there. From this day on, we move forever forward~

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