Chapter 70
Avice
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.”
“It would be something akin to that,” Trewoofe clarified. “It means that my soul recognises its own when I look at her.”
He nuzzled into her with exquisite tenderness. Avice felt dizzy at the magnitude of his words, but she knew it was true. How could Nell understand what that meant? Avice herself could barely comprehend the love between herself and the Well King.
“Like a husband,” she finally said, “but with a lot more love and respect.”
“An exceptional understatement for the depth of my feelings, but I suppose that is the human equivalent,” Trewoofe rumbled.
“Yes, alright,” Avice acquiesced, fiddling with the shells on his horn before focusing on John. “I have healing waters, for your bruises.” She tossed back her cloak, and carefully eased out the bottle, not wanting to disturb the seed. “Are you well?”
John took it from her, his green eyes shining with gratitude. “Thanks to you.”
She smiled back at him and watched as his Morgowr rested his scaly chin on the top of John’s red head. Guilt pricked her as she studied the seaweed patch that covered his missing eye.
“I am sorry, King Treth,” she blurted. “About your eye.”
He let out a gravelly rumble. “And I am sorry about trying to eat you.” Trewoofe let out a hiss, and Morgowr’s gaze dropped. “Fisher has been looking after my egg,” he continued, “and from that, our friendship and love grew. I am very protective of him and the little fisher. It is no excuse—”
“But an explanation.” Avice offered him a small smile, and her curiosity kindled. “I would love to know more about your egg.”
Trewoofe chuckled at her thirst for knowledge.
“She was lost and her egg had cracked. Fisher netted her up—”
“I somehow knew,” John interrupted. “I knew she was important, in here.” He tapped his chest. “So, I brought her home and we patched the crack. I do not know how to explain this properly, but I heard her…” He touched his temple. “In here.”
Avice thought of Bramble, and some Good Neighbour voices she could just hear, even if their lips did not move.
She nodded. “I understand.”
“She told me she needed to hatch, so I have been keeping her safe inside.” John gestured to his cottage.
“We have been waiting for her to emerge,” Treth clarified. His pupil contracted on Trewoofe. “It is why I am on your land, Well King. My Morgowrling is here.”
Her Knucker let out a huff but dipped his head to show he understood. “I had daughters once, and I know what it is like to lose them.”
Avice rubbed his bicep soothingly. That ache would always be there for her Knucker, and she was glad she could support him when it was at its worst. Her curiosity still niggled at her, and she needed some clarity on the situation between the fisherman and the Sea Dragon.
“So, you are the one who bit off Mister Benjamin’s arm?” she asked.
Treth puffed, his breath tossing John’s hair. “Yes, he saw us talking together in the sea. I panicked and tried to eat him. Fisher stopped me. I am not good with humans.”
“He did not mean to,” John clarified. “Have you heard about Benjamin?” Avice shook her head. “Apparently, he has asked Goodwife Margaret and her husband to live with him in the home he used to share with his cousin.”
Her lip twitched at the scandal, but then, what was the impropriety if there was no longer a church or Moot to tell them so?
There was a beat of silence, as she did not know how to reply to that news.
Moving on from the would-be gossip, Avice touched her pendant.
How she wished that the Fishers had just told her of their situation, she may have been able to help.
She decided to let the past be the past and instead smiled at her friends.
“No more secrets between us?” Avice asked.
John hesitated, for the briefest of moments, before nodding his head in agreement.
Nell – who had been jumping over and sliding down Treth’s twitching tail – popped up beside Avice.
“Where are Bramble and Ashling?” the girl asked.
“Safe and resting in the Underneath,” Trewoofe chipped in.
His ears pricked in curiosity at the girl; Avice guessed he had probably never been this close to a such a young human child before.
“Oh.” Nell’s lips tugged down.
“We can bring them to visit, or you to visit them,” he said quickly, clearly not wanting to see disappointment in the girl. “I know they would be happy to see you.”
“As long as that is alright with John,” Avice added.
John smiled. “The safest place for Nell is with Treth and I. The second is with you and your Knucker.”
Trewoofe chuffed in approval. “You are wise, for a human.”
John chuckled at the tease. “Avice might say differently.”
Just as she was about to join in with her own playful taunt, the seed bounced against her hip, trying to tug her away. She knew it was telling her that it had waited long enough, and it was time to be planted.
“We must be off,” she said. “My King and I have an important task to complete today, and we have lingered here for longer than intended.”
“Of course…” John grinned at her. “You always have important tasks, Avice. That will never change.”
She paused beneath the shelter of Trewoofe’s chest. It could change.
She remembered her Great Aunt Agnes say gratefully, when she came to stay with her, that ‘many hands make light work’.
Hati the Wulver had already expressed interest in learning her witching ways, but at least one more apprentice would be beneficial.
It was as though the spark of an idea had kindled an inferno of plans as she looked at the girl cuddling the Morgowr’s snout.
“I would like to teach Nell my skills,” Avice announced. “Things are different now. There would be no punishment or isolation for her.”
She watched as John’s throat bobbed, and Treth nudged at him with the tip of his finned tail. “It would be good for her.” He nuzzled into the girl. “Her sharp mind should not be wasted.”
“It should be up to Nell,” Avice clarified, before focusing on her. “Would you like to learn my witching ways?”
Nell bounced excitedly on the ball of her feet. “Yes, Miss Avice! When can I start?”
The midwife giggled. “We will come back to discuss particulars,” she promised. “At the moment, we have a task to complete.”
“Farewell, for now,” Trewoofe said, before departing with her into the trees.