Page 196 of The Knucker King

She clenched her jaw. “You mean… it was a mistake when you changed the boy?”

“Human younglings are difficult to tell the difference between. Especially when they are still inside their dams.”

Avice scoffed. She had been right all along. The Spriggan males were simply idiotic. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the spark of anger in her belly. For her, the Folk and the Good Neighbours were identical in their logic and inconceivable ways. Despite what Trewoofe might say about their differences.

“Then why the Pillywiggin?” she asked.

Derrowen shrugged. “It did not work with the human younglings, so we thought we might try with a Good Neighbour. We failed with the Pillywiggin. She bit Pren and flew off into the blizzard.”

“A final question, if I may,” she said.

“Yes, my Lady,” he agreed, squirming happily from her pats.

She suppressed a grimace at the title. “The red-haired child and the newborn youngling with the skull, they were both after my Lord and I woke Eostre. Why did you try to lure one away and change the other?”

Derrowen gave Avice a look that suggested she was the idiotic one out of the two of them. “Because after she has brought forth Spring, Eostre needs to rest, and her Summer sister takes over. We needed a female to put her back to sleep and then wake her again for the next turn of seasons.”

“I do not know what will happen with Eostre at Spring’s end. But you are to mark no more human children or Good Neighbours,” Avice said firmly. “Is that clear?”

He rattled his skull in response. “Pren already told me about the Sidhe King of this Otherworld. We will do nothing to provoke his wrath.”

“What do you mean ‘this Otherworld’?” Avice asked, furrowing her brow.

Derrowen sniffed beneath his skull. “Can you not sense it? As below, so above.”

Avice scanned the wood. For as far as she could see, there was only a sea of green canopy and brown trunks. She flared her nostrils, taking in the scent of petrichor. The air crackled with magic, and her tattoo twitched with excitement at the expansion of Trewoofe’s Kingdom.

“You are right,” she murmured, dropping her hand from the Spriggan’s head, and pressing it to her thumping chest. “But what does it mean?”

Derrowen sidled closer and butted her hand with his skull. “It will mean safety for you and yours. If it is anything like the Green was, beings who mean no harm can come and go. Those who enter will forget details when they leave if they gossip about the place.”

“That is part of the Sidhe magic?” she asked, the word tingling her tongue.

“The Sidhe intertwines with the ward. Keeping the Otherworld safe in more ways than one,” he replied.

Avice smiled, straining her neck to see as far as she could. The newfound knowledge comforted her. The Spriggan sprout would be safe tucked away in the glade.

An idea struck her. “Would you and Pren like to stay here?” she asked. “It will be far away from humans.”

Derrowen wagged his bushy tail. “We would like that very much.” He nodded his head in the direction of the sprout. “We would like to be close to her when she fruits. That is, if that is alright with the Sidhe King.”

“He will not mind, as long as you keep away from the younglings.” Avice knew Trewoofe would be amenable to this arrangement, especially when she explained the situation to him. She patted the Spriggan’s head a final time. “Thank you for answering my questions.”

“You are welcome, my Lady.”

Her boots had sunken into the mud during their exchange. She heaved free of the muck and began her trudge away from the Spriggan.

“Will we see you again? I think that the Birthing Tree would enjoy you visiting,” he called after her.

Avice looked back at him. “We will return. This glade is a sacred place, and I am sure my Lord will want to visit in the future.”

Derrowen seemed happy with that response. His skull rattled and tail wagged at the same time. She bobbed her head at him and squelched her way down the gentle slope. She headed for the stream that meandered on the edge of the clearing, determined to wash way the grime from the night before.

Abandoning her chemise and boots on a Sun-warmed rock, Avice waded into the stream. The frigid waters bit her calves, and her teeth chattered so violently they threatened to come out of her head.

She smiled as a dabble of ducks paddled by. They quacked loudly to their dozen ducklings, who cheeped incessantly in reply. She watched delightedly as they splashed out of sight. Ever since she and Trewoofe had awoken Eostre, there seemed to be babies everywhere. It made the desire for her own more poignant, like a thorn in her foot she could not extract. She ignored that dull ache for now and turned to the task at hand. Gingerly, she stepped further in, feeling her way over the smooth river stones with her toes, until the water was up to her chin.

She floated there for a moment, and elation filled her as she swam. Trewoofe’s lesson had proved invaluable. She sucked in a breath and ducked beneath the surface. When she popped back up again, she nearly choked at the sight that met her eyes.