Page 129 of The Knucker King

Her mouth dropped open. “What?”

He could not possibly think she meant to do that. She wanted all of them to go together.

“Foolish Grim,” she tutted, striding over, and wrapping her arms around his neck.

He tensed under her touch. What was that?

“I always meant for you and Ashling to come with me,” she said into his fur, his little hairs tickling her nose.

He melted into her as soon as the words left her mouth. You think we can come as well? But the Well King said nothing about us.

“Of course he will want you to come. He cares about all of us.” Avice gave him a devious grin. “And if he does not? Well, he will just have to do as he is told.”

She hugged him until he twisted in her arms. Avice?

“Hmmm…?”

If you want time to yourself tomorrow, we should continue to Goodwife Emma’s home, Bramble said as he wriggled free of her iron grip.

Avice knew her services were not needed when Emma opened the cottage door. She had positioned the crystal over her lower belly, wearing it like a sash, and was bright-eyed with colour on her cheeks.

“Goodwife Emma!” Avice sputtered. “You are looking so well.”

Her patient gave her a sad smile. “I am alive, thanks to you.” She tucked a stand of hair behind her ear. “Do you have news of Mary? Is she alright?”

Still bewildered, the midwife blinked out of her stupor. “Yes, the Good Neighbours took her. They will save her and make sure that breathing does not hurt.”

Tears silvered in Emma’s eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. “I know it was this or death,” she croaked. “But I will miss her.”

A lump formed in Avice’s throat. “I know, and I am so sorry there was no way to keep her with you.”

“Is that the midwife?” Matilda appeared at the door and greeted her with a nod. “The boys are out working in the fields. Would you like to join us for tea?”

“I came to check on Goodwife Emma and you,” she replied.

Avice was not that hungry, as she had munched on an apple on the way over. She did not want to linger for any longer than necessary, as she still had to make the trip to the village.

“It is not needed,” Matilda said, running her gaze over her sister. “I am fine, and I took her stitches out this morning.”

Avice bristled. “You what?”

She chuckled. “Do not look so outraged. When I went to check her earlier, she was completely healed. In fact, they needed to be removed as they were scabbed.”

Avice opened and closed her mouth, then laid her palm on Bramble’s head. She did not quite believe what she had heard.

“Is that from the lessons I gave you?” she asked.

Matilda had five children. By the third, Avice had been exhausted trudging back and forth from her cottage to patch up her rambunctious brood. She had eventually cracked and taught Matilda the basics of wound cleaning, repair, and suture removals.

“Of course,” she replied.

She shook her head in wonderment at the pair of resilient women. She dropped her eyes to the flowers blooming over her grubby boots, then looked above, trying to process exactly what had happened. She watched as a flock of passionate birds darted across the crystal-clear sky.

Avice furrowed her brow. “I do not understand.”

“Understand what?” Emma asked.

“Any of this.” She gestured to Emma then the wilderness of the garden behind her. “I only did what I did to end Winter. I did not think it would—”