Page 149 of The Knucker King

Lord. He dipped his head. Have you come to take us to your Kingdom? We have all been very excited to see more of the Underneath. Though, we will have to make sure Avice does not panic and…

Bramble continued his lecture, and Trewoofe looked to Avice pleadingly for help. She followed her familiar, tossed her arms around his neck, and pecked a kiss to the top of his shaggy head.

“We are going at tomorrow’s twilight,” she promised.

What do you mean? he asked, wriggling around in her grip to face her.

Trewoofe circled around them, so he could meet the Grim eye-to-eye. “I had to help Avice today,” he explained, “and because of that, I have not yet slain the Tall One that hurt her. We agreed I would return at tomorrow’s twilight instead, once the deed is done.”

Oh. Bramble drooped. I was hoping we would be going now.

“I know.” Trewoofe dropped the very tip of his chin to the Grim’s head, hugging the pair to his chest. “I am sorry it cannot be this evening.”

A bell-like voice chimed, and Ashling – dimmer than usual – drifted into his eyeline.

“What happened today?” he asked.

Trewoofe shifted back and looked down at his little witch. “A Morgowr attacked Avice on Lamorna Cove.”

What!?

“What!?”

They exclaimed together.

Avice beamed up at Trewoofe. His tail swished back and forth from her adoring look as she told her Faeries the story. She spoke of the Morgowr, John, of how she called for Trewoofe and he came, beating the invading Sidhe King. She then explained, from what she could understand from their brief argument, that John was in love with King Treth, and that there was an egg involved somehow.

Trewoofe was just glad she omitted their cave romp from her tale.

John the Fisher is in love with the Morgowr King, Bramble murmured. Like you are in love with the Knucker King, he said pointedly to Avice.

She coughed and turned to Ashling. “How are you feeling, my darling?”

Trewoofe would be lying if he were not a little hurt at her dismissal of Bramble’s statement. He had told her how much he adored her, that she was his soul-bound, and that she was his mate for life. He hoped that she may be the brave one and admit that she loved him first. If she did not, he would have to take it into his own paws and make the declaration.

“I am still tired. I am not a young Wisp anymore,” Ashling said, lowering himself to her offered palm. “Using so much of my magic twice in such a short amount of time has drained me.”

“Twice?”

What do you mean twice?

Avice and Ashling froze under Trewoofe’s stare. As far as he had known, she had only pulled on the Wisp’s magic the night of the ritual, along with the rest of the Good Neighbour choir.

“Ashling!” she hissed.

The Wisp flickered purple and back to blue. “I am sorry. I know you wanted to keep it a secret. It just slipped out—”

“Keep what a secret?” Trewoofe interrupted.

He did not know that his little witch had been keeping things from him. The briar around his chest constricted at the idea that she felt the need to hide her actions. He also thought Ashling was his friend, so why did the Wisp hide it from him?

Avice stepped back, and Ashling darted behind her. “I did not tell you at the time, because I did not want you to stop me” – she bit her lip – “and I did not want you to be angry at me. I have had enough of humans being mad at me for simply doing the right thing.”

Trewoofe softened at that. He remembered the way she had flinched and bolted when things became heated between them during his stay at the cottage. How she had described her treatment from the villagers, the way they looked at her, and the way she was treated by them when all she did was serve.

He would not add to that.

Ever.