Page 189 of The Knucker King

Avice and Trewoofe approached John’s cottage by the sea. She hoped to see her friend recovering. What she did not expect to see was Treth, wearing his Morgowr body, pinning a Spriggan beneath his behemoth webbed paw.

She darted out from beneath her Knucker’s chest – she had been walking there to shelter from the steady shower – and confronted the oceanic Sidhe King.

“Avice, wait for me!” Trewoofe called from behind her.

She came to a skidding stop in front of the Morgowr and pointed her finger up at him. “Let him go!”

Treth, bewildered, blinked his one eye down at Avice. “He tried to take the little fisher.”

She knew it was a fair justification, Trewoofe would have done the same. “I understand, but I will make sure they take no more children.”

Her Knucker caught up, his crest flared and stained red. “You would do well to listen to my soul-bound,” he hissed, “and I will be willing to overlook that you are once again in my territory without my permission.”

Treth’s pupil contracted on the squirming Faerie and then on Avice. He cautiously removed his paw and backed away, lowering his head in deference to Trewoofe and showing his vulnerable throat.

The Spriggan – Pren, she was sure of it – stood shakily and brushed off his rumpled fur. “Thank you saving me.”

Avice pinched her face at him. “I have your Queen’s seed.” She patted her satchel beneath her cloak. “The Well King and I will find somewhere to plant it. Somewhere safe and quiet, I promise. In return, you must leave the children alone.”

The Spriggan opened his mouth to protest. “I—”

“The younglings, human and Good Neighbour alike,” Trewoofe snarled, “are under my protection in Lamorna and the Underneath. If I find you even looking at one, I will sweep you from the land.”

Pren squealed at his threat and scampered off into the woods with his bushy tail tucked between his legs. Avice let out a sigh as he disappeared into the foliage. She knew it was best to keep the Spriggan from the children. That part of her deep within, that needed to know why, was left unsatisfied. She had hoped that if she saw Pren and Derrowen, that she might ask them why they were still trying to change the children. Eostre was awake, Spring was back. Why in Albion did they need the children still?

Avice let it go for now. She was here to check on John and Nell. Then, she and Trewoofe would find somewhere safe to plant the seed. She turned back to the towering Morgowr and bobbed her head at him.

“Good morning, King Treth,” she greeted.

While leaving his throat exposed, the Morgowr turned to address her. “Good morning, Knucker Queen.”

Avice cocked a quizzical brow at him. ‘Knucker Queen’ was yet another title that she would have to grapple with. Though, she did like the sound of it compared to ‘my Lady’. Trewoofe also rumbled his approval at the honorific. He lowered his crest but left his scales stained scarlet. Avice understood that he had relaxed slightly but was still ready to assert his dominance in a flash if needed.

“I came to see Nell and check on John,” she clarified.

“I am here, Miss Avice!” the girl confirmed, her red head popping out from behind Treth’s bulky hind leg.

Avice dashed towards her and gathered her into a crushing hug. She peppered the top of her wild curls with kisses. Sweet relief spread through her. Nell was safe, despite what the Moot had manipulated her to do. She had survived, and very possibly saved her brother’s life by fetching the Morgowr King.

Nell squirmed in her arms and looked at her through snarls of flaming red. “I am sorry, Miss Avice. They tricked me and—”

“Shush now,” Avice soothed. “It is not your fault. I am just happy that you are safe, and that you have such a big Dragon looking after you.”

A creak drew the midwife’s attention. Her gaze swept to John’s cottage. It was much like her own: wattle and daube walls, wooden shutters, and a chimney with a steady stream of smoke wafting into the rain. Heavy fruiting creepers begun its claim of the walls, and a lush carpet of chamomile and calendula grew up to her knees. She found it curious that the vines here seemed to be harmonious with the walls, but destructive of the stone church.

John stepped out into the rain, a broad grin on his bruised face. “There you are,” he said. His long legs ate up the distance between them, and he wrapped both Avice and Nell in his strong arms. “I am so happy to see you are well.”

Trewoofe let out a rumble. For a moment, Avice thought he may have been jealous. Surely after all they had been through, he knew she only had eyes for him. But then, when she caught his dejected expression, she knew he was feeling left out.

She pulled out of the hug. “Nell, John…” She gestured Trewoofe over. “This is my soul-bound, King Trewoofe of the Underneath.”

The girl looked up her Knucker and waved. He lashed his tail in response and let out a satisfactory chuff.

“A pleasure to meet you both,” he replied. “Any friends of Avice’s are friends of mine.”

“Hello, Mister Trewoofe.” Nell wore a curious expression. “What is a soul-bound?”

“A Knucker custom?” Treth asked. “Morgowr’s take life-mates.”