Chapter 73
Trewoofe
Agreat pulse of magic awoke Trewoofe from his slumber.
He immediately noticed Avice’s absence. Trying not the jump to the worst possible conclusion, he flicked his tongue out, tasting the air for her. Her honey and lavender scent were still fresh, so he followed it out and down from the great oak’s hollow.
He squinted through the glaring sunshine, his eyes adjusting to the change in light. He watched as his soul-bound clumsily swam back to the bank and tugged on her chemise. A towering, human-shaped figure loomed over Avice as she approached it. His raging need to protect fired his limbs.
Like lightning, he crossed the glade. Trewoofe stood protectively over Avice, tucking her beneath his chest despite her squeaking protest. He glared at the figure before him, blinded by his determination to protect his soul-bound. He had not realised he was face-to-face with a Goddess.
“My Lord,” Avice began, stepping out from underneath him. “This is Mother Eostre. The Goddess of Spring.”
“I knew you would recognise me.” Fine lines creased the edges of her lips and eyes. She offered them a brilliant smile from her round, cherubic face.
Trewoofe flicked his tongue out and used his senses to assess the deity before him.
Was she friend or foe?
He would find out.
She matched his height, and her skin was green.
She smelt of spring shoots, apple blossoms, and new life.
He twitched his ears at the hum she emitted; the sound reminded him of the ward he had set around Avice’s garden and on Knucker Hill.
The warm spring light twirled around her.
It bounced off her in a variety of colours and formed a dress around her in a shifting rainbow.
The gown flowed down in a long train, mingling with the wildflowers that popped up around Eostre’s toes.
Her emerald hair was long and tightly curled, reaching to her ankles.
A crown of bright yellow daffodils kissed her head; Trewoofe scented their bittersweet aroma as she reached to cup his scaly chin.
He initially bristled at her calloused fingers.
His red crest flared threateningly, until Avice rubbed a soothing circled on his leg.
“I see you, King Trewoofe of the Underneath, and the love you have for your witch. I mean neither of you any harm.”
Her voice was a songbird’s: sweet, light, and like honey to his ears.
“What we can do for you, Mother Eostre?” Trewoofe asked.
Her deep brown eyes met his. She had no pupils or irises; there was only the colour of the earth.
“I wish to thank you both,” she replied, releasing his chin, and dropping her gaze to Avice.
His little witch smiled back up at the Goddess.
Trewoofe let the red drain from his crest as he saw how at ease Avice was.
“For waking me from my slumber. If my Winter sister had to serve the Earth much longer, she would have perished, and all would be frozen forever more.”
“You are welcome,” Avice said brightly.
“It was the least we could do,” Trewoofe added.
“And I must ask more of you.”
He glanced down at his little witch, who dipped her head at him to continue. “What is it you would have us do?”
“I am in need of a safe place to put down my roots when my seasonal work is done.” She nodded at Trewoofe.
“And I need someone with knowledge of herbs that will make me sleep and then awaken me again.” She beamed down at Avice.
“But, depending on how you view it, there is either a boon or a curse that comes with this responsibility.”
“What is this double-edged sword?” Avice asked.
Pride stirred in Trewoofe’s chest. Her turns of seasons dealing with the slippery bargains of the Good Neighbours meant that it was not easy to trick her with sleight of word or silver tongue.
Eostre chuckled at Avice’s shrewdness. “A Goddess’ Kiss,” she replied. “It will mean you and yours will live for as long as I need you to do your duty, which may mean until the Sun goes out. You and your descendants will be granted this gift.”
Trewoofe blanched at the offer. While he had lived a long time compared to the lifespans of humans and some Good Neighbours, he had never heard of an endless life.
The time would not be lonely if he had Avice and their Knuckerlings by his side.
But what of the rest of his family? The ones bound to Avice.
Surely, they were as much his kin as any of his descendants would be.
“I would be willing,” Trewoofe said, “as long as my soul-bound’s Wisp and Grim are included in this boon.”
Avice leant her temple gratefully against his scales, and he let out a low purr.
“Bargaining with a Goddess?” Eostre chuckled, her amusement washing over them like the sweetest honey. “It can indeed be done.”
“Where will you rest?” Avice asked. “Where must I travel to perform this duty?”
Eostre glanced around the clearing, her gaze landing on the behemoth oak that Avice had called the previous night.
“I will return here at my seasons end, and you will bring me a potion to make me sleep.” She pointed at the hollow.
“Then, when it is time for me to bring new life back to the woods and fields, you must come back and awaken me.”
“I will bring quartz stones to make a circle, and charge it with my protective magic,” Trewoofe added. “The clearing is a sacred space, and it will be treated as such.”
“Just so,” Eostre agreed. “Your Kingdom will be extended, Well King. A mighty Otherworld under your protection, from the Standing Stones to Land’s End.”
Trewoofe considered. The area was huge, with great swathes of woodland teaming with animals, Good Neighbours, and the odd human village.
His tunnels in the Underneath did not stretch that far.
He would have to burrow further to extend the rivers of the healing waters.
That way, he could move from one end to the other more quickly if needed.
It was a momentous task, but it could be done.
“I await my soul-bound’s opinion,” he replied, nuzzling into Avice.
She rolled her shoulders at his touch. “Will it be too much for you? I can manage a visit twice in a turn of seasons, but looking after an Otherworld that is so large…” She covered her mouth with her hand, before dropping it again. “It may not be quite as challenging as we think.”
She went on to tell Trewoofe about her meeting with Derrowen, and how he had explained the function of the Green’s Sidhe.
That only those who meant no harm could enter, and those who left would forget the wonders they had seen.
Eostre looked on with a bemused expression, her lip twitching like she was holding back a good joke.
“I told Derrowen they could stay.” Avice bit her lip. “I hope you do not mind.”
“I do not.” He nudged her. “What should we tell Mother Eostre?”
Avice took a deep breath. “We accept.” She turned to the towering Goddess. “We will look after you, and this Otherworld—”
“Avalon,” she interrupted. “This Otherworld is called Avalon. Now, it will be like this…” – she gestured vaguely to the fruiting and flowering trees that circled the clearing – “always, so you must take note of the cycles of the Moon. Three between my awakening and when I must be sent into slumber once more, so my Summer sister, Grian, can begin her seasonal work.”
“I will. My familiar can help with that, he is good with the Moon,” Avice said. “We accept, Mother Eostre.”
Trewoofe purred his agreement.
Eostre was a radiant beam, winking out of sight in an instant.
Then, Trewoofe felt warmth between the two largest horns on his head.
The warmth spread from his crown, down his spine, and twitched his tail tip.
He watched as Avice jolted and patted the top of her head.
She held her hand in front of her face and wiggled her fingers.
“Did you feel that?” Avice asked, looking at him in wonder.
“Yes, it was like drinking your honey and chamomile tea after a long cold day.”
She grinned at his description. “Speaking of which, I would commit crimes for a cup of tea.”
He laughed. Deep and long, until happy tears pooled in the corners of his eyes.
Avice joined in, her lighter tones mingling with his rumbling chuckles.
She laughed so hard she had to lean on his leg for balance.
Finally, their chortles petered out. Their eyes met, and they regarded each other with a look of two beings irrevocably in love with each other.
“Home, then?” Trewoofe asked.
“Yes, for a cup of tea,” Avice agreed, shoving on her boots, and leading the way back up to the oak so they could gather the rest of her belongings.
“And perhaps…” He peeled his lips back in disgust as his paws squelched in the thick mud. “…a bath?”
“And after?” she asked, stopping by her dress to tug it on, and stuffing her stockings up her sleeve.
“A good rutting,” Trewoofe replied, using his snout to give her a boost into the hollow.
She shook her head at his flirting before she entered the gloom and quickly returned with her medical satchel strapped her shoulder.
Her mouth was rounded with astonishment at what was in her hands. “I believe that this is King Draig’s egg,” Avice stated, holding it out for Trewoofe to inspect. “It was beside my bag.”
He brushed it with his tongue and then pressed his ear to the scarlet shell. The Drakling inside chirruped. Instincts warred within Trewoofe. Yes, this was another Sidhe King’s heir, and that thought made him flex his talons. However, he was also simply an unhatched youngling.
Trewoofe would never abandon a vulnerable offspring. “We will take him with us.”
Avice rewarded him with a dazzling grin. She wrapped the egg in linen and managed to squeeze it inside her satchel. It bulged heavily at her side and made her dip with the weight of it. She let out a chuckle as she mounted Trewoofe, wriggling into her accustomed seat behind his horns.
“Would you care to share your amusement?” he asked, turning towards the tree line.
“I think that Faeries must have descended from Mother Eostre,” she replied. “She told us she required ‘more’ of us. We thought it was the bargain we struck. But there was, quite literally, ‘more’. She must have left the Drake egg here for us to find.”
“And Faeries are tricky with their bargains too,” he chuffed happily, perfectly content with being tricked by the Goddess of Spring. Nothing would stop the joy that hummed under his scales as he felt her thighs press against his crest. “So, it is time to go home?”
She ran her hand down his horn and jingled his amulet. “Yes, home.”