Image Description: A warm, golden-toned illustration in a graphic storybook style. The scene shows four silhouetted figures walking along a woodland path: a woman with flowing hair (Lady Biscotti) walks beside a large, sturdy dog (Biggie), while a man with tousled hair (Sir Dunkalot) walks with a smaller fox red Labrador (Indy). The dogs’ tails are gently wagging, and Biggie’s ears are flapping slightly, mid-step. Above them floats a large golden biscuit with a swirled jam centre — symbolising the mysterious “Custard Crumb.” In the background, rising behind the trees, is a crumbling stone chapel, partially lit by the golden glow of the sky. The trees frame the group as they walk toward the light, creating a peaceful yet adventurous mood.
Chapter Two: The Jam Mark and the Hidden Rhyme
The trail led deeper into the woods.
Sir Dunkalot ducked under a low branch as Indy trotted ahead, tail flicking with purpose. Behind them, Biggie padded silently, nose twitching, every sense alert. Lady Biscotti followed close, her boots immaculate, notepad tucked under one arm, and her camera always within reach.
The birds were quieter here. The trees, taller. And the scent of jam… stronger.
Biggie stopped.
With one low woof, he sniffed a crooked tree trunk. There, half-hidden in moss, was a sticky red jam print, heart-shaped and smudged. Just below it, pinned delicately to the bark with a toffee tack, was a parchment scroll — folded neatly in thirds.
Sir Dunkalot stepped forward and carefully peeled it free.
Lady Biscotti joined him, brushing her feathered hair back from her face. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
Sir Dunkalot unfolded the parchment. The edges were jam-stained. The scent? Raspberry.
He read aloud:
Where ruins sleep and roots entwine, The custard hides behind a sign. If figs you favour, step with care — For eyes are watching everywhere.
Biggie’s ears twitched.
Indy let out a low whine and looked to the right.
Sir Dunkalot turned sharply. “We’re not alone.”
A rustle in the brambles. Then nothing.
Lady Biscotti narrowed her eyes. “That rhyme… it’s not just a clue. It’s a warning.”
Sir Dunkalot tucked the parchment into his jacket. “Let’s keep moving. But careful now. Someone’s watching — and they don’t want us finding the crumb.”
As they climbed toward a clearing at the edge of the woods, Biggie gave a soft grunt and nudged forward — that familiar can-we-go-now nudge, a little echo of walks with Rachael.
Lady Biscotti smiled. “All right, Bigs. We’re going.”
They reached a gap where two birch trees leaned into an arch — and there, nestled at the base of the slope, stood a mushroom-shaped hut, glowing softly from within.
Lady Biscotti reached instinctively for her camera. “Would you look at that… fungi with architectural flair.”
Biggie and Indy paused side by side. Not in fear — but in recognition.
“I think,” Lady Biscotti whispered, “we’re not the first ones to find this trail.”
Sir Dunkalot nodded slowly. “Let’s hope whoever’s inside… is friendly.”
To be continued…
Blind Man Makes 