Page 166 of The Knucker King

Avice dipped her head. “A pleasure to meet you, my Lady.”

Olwilla blinked in surprise. “You have no need to address me as such. You are the King’s soul-bound, and his saviour. You have a far higher standing than me in the Kingdom, my Lady.”

She giggled at that. “How about you call me ‘Avice’ and I call you ‘Olwilla’?”

The Wulver Queen wagged her tail. “I like the sound of that.”

Trewoofe had slunk away with his clothing during their exchange and returned in his human shape. He cut a fine figure in his dark tunic and purple hose. He tossed his arm around Avice’s shoulders when he returned and squeezed her bicep.

“We have come to see Bramble and Ashling,” Trewoofe said.

Olwilla dipped her head. “Of course, follow me.”

Avice was owl-like as they were led through the small settlement, her eyes wide and head turning this way and that. Wulver-led was positively cosy. The Good Neighbours pottered around: weaving, whittling, and preparing food. On the central fire pit, a boar on a spit and apples on skewers roasted over the flames. Avice pressed a palm to her protesting stomach, willing it to shush as they were led to a large deerskin pavilion.

Olwilla gripped the entrance flap. “Avice, you should be aware, Bramble is much improved.” She watched as the Wulver’s dextrous forepaws rolled the skin back and tied it out of the way. “But the iron hurt him, and his recovery is slow.”

Avice nodded and put on a false smile. As much as she wanted to burst into tears at the thought of her familiar being hurt, she wanted to be brave for Bramble. He had fought so hard to keep her safe. As though he sensed she needed his support, Trewoofe kissed her head and lowered his lips to her ear.

“I am with you,” he promised.

She blinked back the tears that threatened to come. “Thank you.” She smiled at Olwilla. “Please take us to him.”

The Wulver Queen beckoned them inside. Avice crossed the threshold, her bare feet meeting the fluffy rug. She scanned the homey space, trying to spot her familiar and Wisp. Her heart skipped a beat as she spotted a pile of soaking animal skins by the central fire. It rose and fell slightly in the pattern of breath, and on top, a Wisp perched.

“Ashling!” Avice gasped, bolting over to him.

He brightened his flames, zooming over to her, and meeting her halfway. “Oh, Avice! I have missed you so.”

She offered him her palms, and he cooled enough to land on her skin. “My darling…”

Her voice cracked and she had no words. Instead, she nuzzled into the Wisp, crying freely now.

“Avice, you will extinguish me,” Ashling gently admonished as another tear dropped onto his flames, making a sizzling sound.

“Sorry,” she sniffled. “I am just so…”

“As am I,” he replied softly, kissing his cooled flames to her cheeks before he drifted up to Trewoofe. “My Lord.” He bobbed in the air. “Thank you for saving her.”

The Well King purred, the deep resonance vibrated through Avice, making her light-headed. “My purpose and my pleasure. I have missed you, Ashling.”

“And I you, Lord.”

“We had him soaking in a bath but moved him to this as he improved.” Olwilla gestured the group over to the pile of wet hides and laid her paw on it. “Bramble, you have visitors.”

His head – his darling, shaggy head – popped up from the bundle of pelts. His fur was messier than normal, and there was a criss-cross of scabbing cuts over his muzzle.

Avice! he whuffed, his body wiggling under the covers. Lord!

She dashed over to her familiar, dropped to her knees, and threw her arms around his neck. “I have missed you so.” She peppered his head with kisses. “I am so happy you are alright.”

I am sorry I could not stop them. I am sorry I let them take you, he whimpered as he sat up.

The soaking furs slipped off him. The scent and shimmer of the healing waters was unmistakable. The Wulver had cocooned her familiar in it. Avice had to admit she was impressed, but she could not help but think some calendula against his fur would help.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Avice reassured as she rifled through her satchel. She pulled out the tiny vial of yellow flowers. “I love you, Bramble. You are the best familiar a witch could ask for. I am just sorry I could not get you free from that horrendous iron net before they took me.”

Bramble thumped his tail before facing Trewoofe. Lord, I am so sorry I did not keep Avice safe.