Page 182 of The Knucker King

Two.

Avice nearly fell over as the Faerie’s eyes flew open and she sucked in a scraping breath. She sat straight and kept her hands clasped to her chest. The midwife dropped her satchel and knelt beside the rapidly blinking Folk. Avice’s hand hovered above her bony shoulder, before finally squeezing her gently.

“My Lady?”

“Be careful, little witch,” Trewoofe rumbled. “This Faerie is not from my Kingdom. She is one of the Folk, not a Good Neighbour.

“I will be cautious,” Avice replied, unable to tear her gaze from the gaunt being in front of her. “My Lady? I heard you calling for me. My soul-bound—” She was interrupted by her Knucker’s approving purr and shot him a glare to silence him. “—and I, came to help you. Are you alright? What can I do to aid you?”

The Queen’s neck creaked as she slowly turned to Avice. Dust and desiccated moss fell from the lines in her bark-like skin. It fluttered into the dark hollow she had been trapped in. Her eyes were dull orange, and the midwife knew they were once as bright as the stars.

It all laced together for Avice as she studied the poor Folk. She was so like Mary. The Bucca said that the Greenfolk had tried to change the child. The Tall Ones said that Greenfolk were Spriggan. Avice had seen a flash of green in the bushes right after she left Emma’s cottage, the same day Trewoofe saved Mary. The Pillywiggin Princess and Nell both mentioned seeing a ‘big green Faerie’. Avice’s stomach twisted at the idea of a Spriggan trying to lure Nell away. She had already been planning on checking on John, so she vowed that would happen as soon as possible.

“Are you the Spriggan Queen?” Avice asked.

“She does look like Mary,” Trewoofe agreed.

The Folk tilted her head at a harsh angle, her ear just touching her shoulder. Her pupils narrowed as she focused on Avice. A spark of lightning crackled between the midwife and the Queen. The Faerie snuffed heavily through her nose holes and her ears pricked. She dropped her hand, slightly exposing the smooth shiny object pressed to her chest. The Queen reached for Avice, her clawed fingers so thin they would snap in a Summer breeze.

“You came,” the Spriggan Queen croaked, her unused voice barely audible in the silent church.

“You called.” Avice intertwined her fingers with the Queen’s, bark and skin lacing together as if they had always known each other. “I am sorry it took me so long.”

The Queen blinked slowly. “I have been waiting for you.”

She smiled quizzically at the Faerie. “Why me?”

“Because you are like me.”

Trewoofe cocked his head. “Avice is human, and you are a Queen of the Folk.”

The Spriggan’s neck creaked, and she sluggishly observed the towering Knucker. “You are a Sidhe King, and I am in your Otherworld?”

“I am, and…” He looked to Avice, and she nodded for him to continue the questioning. “…yes, you are. You are safe here. Can you tell us what happened to you?”

Avice’s hand began to tingle, and heat shot up her arm. The power made its way to her collar bones and stained the inked leaves green. Her sigil writhed, as though it were about to burst from beneath her skin.

Avice frowned at their joined hands as the Spriggan dug in her claws. “What are you doing?”

Trewoofe emitted a low growl and bared his fangs right at the Queen’s skull. “Let her go!”

“To know, you must see,” the Spriggan insisted.

Avice went rigid. The magic that flowed between them did not hurt, but the intensity matched a thousand flowers blossoming into life all at once. She took a sharp breath, ripped free, and fell back. She could not catch herself as the magic bounced through her. Her limbs would not work, and her spine went stiff. Trewoofe caught her in his paw, saving her from a nasty tumble.

That is when Avice saw.

68

Chapter 68

Avice

Avice saw.

She did not know where she was as she stood next to the Spriggan Queen. While not as sickly as she had been when Trewoofe carved her from the cross, the Queen was still ill: her skull dull, back hunched, and bark-skin cracked. The Spriggan’s tufty ears drooped as she looked at the Dragon before her in the woodland glade.

The Dragon was dead. Avice could tell by the lack of rise and fall of his chest, and the stillness of his massive body. He was a Drake: red scaled, four legged, and two winged. He must have been ancient – even by a Dragon’s count – as he was bigger than even Treth the Morgawr.