Page 125 of The Knucker King

He blinked slowly. Do you remember when the Lord said ‘he just knew’ that the hurt Pillywiggin was the Princess?

“Yes,” she replied, falling into step with him. “So, it is like instinct or intuition?”

Somewhat. Two rivers of time flow through my head. I can sense the time of day or night when in the Underneath. Then I can make an accurate assumption as to whether it is morning, noon, or night, he explained.

“So, Trewoofe would be the same?” she asked.

Most likely. If you want to know how he specifically does it, you will have to ask him. Bramble took the fork on the path that led to Goodwife Joan’s home.

“Remarkable.”

Avice mulled on that revelation as she ran her fingers over the soft blossoms. They grew up to her waist on either side of the path. She sucked in a breath, welcoming in the balmy air.

Her pendant pulsed on her chest. “Talk of the Knucker!”

“Avice, are you there?”

She scrambled for the jewellery. “Lord!”

“Good morning, little witch. Did you sleep well?” he purred, vibrating the crystal in her grip.

He knows it is the morning. He must be able to sense it like Bramble. Her gaze flicked to her familiar. “I did. I am just on my way to begin my rounds. How are you?”

“The hunt continues for the Tall One who hurt you, but I am closing in. I have enquired after Hope and Boarden, their caretakers said they are thriving,” he reported.

She grinned. “Thank you. I am so happy that I will be able to report that to their mothers today. It makes me…”

She tried to find the words. How could she explain she wanted to tie off any loose ends? Make sure everyone was as well as they could be? Because, what if when she visited the Underneath, she decided to stay, just as he had offered?

“Avice?”

She heard a chinking, and she giggled at the thought of him tapping at a crystal in the Underneath with his talon.

“It makes me happy,” she continued, “to know when you take me to your home, that my patients will be as well as they can be.”

“If you are happy, then I am happy,” he said. “Well, I will be, once I have found this Tall One. I have his scent now, and as much as I love to speak with you. I must—”

“Continue with the hunt,” she finished for him.

“There you have it. Goodbye, Avice. I look forward to seeing you at tomorrow’s twilight.”

“Tomorrow’s twilight,” she agreed.

She tucked her pendant back under her bodice and smiled down at her familiar.

Feeling better? he asked.

“Much,” she replied, crossing the threshold from the lively woods and into the sheep fields.

Her jaw dropped.

The green pasture was up to her waist, and the courting insects sung. Blooming buds of flowers kissed the top of each blade of grass. The Sun beat down on her hat as she stepped out from the shade of the trees, dotting her upper lip with beads of sweat.

“I have never seen anything like this,” she murmured and looked down at Bramble. “Have you?”

He snuffed at the nearest blossom and let out a loud sneeze. Never. He pricked his floppy ears. What exactly happened the night of the ritual?

They began to battle their way through the green. Bramble took the lead, using his large paws to squash down the grasses to make the way easier for Avice. Just as he was about to pounce on another swathe, she spotted gold.