Page 151 of The Knucker King
The Pillywiggin squirmed excitedly and disappeared with a crackle of blue magic. Avice grinned as the Princess reappeared under the eaves with a mulberry – larger than her – and dropped it into the sack she perched on. She vanished again, and Avice felt her weight on her lap once more.
The Princess held up the shell she wanted. “Bargain.”
“Take the offering, and consider our bargain done,” Avice replied, wanting to make it very official for the Pillywiggin’s first. The Princess awkwardly clambered down from the midwife’s skirted lap. Before she could disappear into the bushes with her prize in hand, Avice called after her, “Wait!”
She stopped, turned, and cocked her head curiously. “What?”
“Can you tell me more about what happened the night I found you in the blizzard?”
The Princess clenched her tiny claws around her shell. “Bad green Faerie. Tried to take me.”
Avice fidgeted with the shells in her hand. “How?”
“He called to me. He sounded like the Pillywiggin friends from the woods. Different flock that likes to play,” she said. “I followed his voice outside the garden.” Her little face scrunched. “He tried to make me go with him. He said he needed Spriggan females to look after Eostre.”
Avice furrowed her brow. She stitched the pattern together in her mind with the information from Trewoofe and the little Princess. Why did the Spriggan need females? If it was only females he needed, then why did he mark Boarden? Where was his Queen? Where was his flock? Who was Eostre? But, all the same, one Faerie could not be changed into another. So, was the Spriggan simply idiotic?
“Who or what is ‘Eostre’?” Avice asked.
The Pillywiggin shrugged. “I do not know.”
The midwife knew it was an outside chance the Good Neighbour would know, after all, she had never heard of ‘Eostre’ either.
“I am so sorry this happened to you,” Avice said. “How did you get away?”
She flashed her needle teeth. “I bit, hard!”
“You are very brave, my Lady,” she complimented with a tip of her hat.
Ashling let out a chime of surprise at the movement. Avice giggled at his alarm; she had forgotten he was up there.
The Pillywiggin Princess dipped her head in agreement. “Yes, brave!”
With that she disappeared in a crackle of blue magic.
“What do you make of that?” Avice asked Ashling, who had resettled on the brim of her hat.
“It is concerning,” he stated. “More Good Neighbours will have younglings now with Spring here and human babies will eventually come. This Spriggan will come to claim more females to care for whatever or whoever this ‘Eostre’ is.”
Avice sighed, tossed up her project, and caught it again. “I think it would be wise for Trewoofe and I to seek more information in the Underneath. We can find out where he is coming from and put a stop to it. Perhaps find out who or what this ‘Eostre’ is.” She continued tossing and catching as she mulled. “I cannot help but think it is all threaded together in some way.”
“How so?”
“The long winter, the babies, the Princess, Eostre, and now this…” She looked around the paradise of her garden. “Eden.”
“I agree with you,” Ashling agreed. “I have lived too long to believe in coincidences.”
“Trewoofe and I will—”
“Miss Avice!”
The midwife startled at the shout. She had not been anticipating any visitors today, nor did she want any. The alarm in the voice was enough to have her jumping to her feet, sending the unthreaded shells flying, and shoving on her boots.
She peered over the towering flora. “Nell, is that you?”
“Yes, Miss Avice! John is hurt. He needs you. Please come quickly.”
A lump formed in her throat. Surely Treth had not hurt him? The Morgowr seemed as dedicated to John’s safety as Trewoofe was to hers. If not the oceanic Sidhe King, then who? A fishing injury perhaps?
