Page 36 of The Knucker King

“What do you mean you felt his eyes on you?”

Avice thought for a moment. How could she explain what men could be like to a Knucker?

“Like a predator watching his prey. But not stalking her for eating.”

One heartbeat, then another.

Avice watched sadly as realisation dawned on Trewoofe.

“You were a youngling!” he growled. “If humans are anything like Knuckers, you were far too small to court, let alone do anything else with.”

Bramble had stopped his game again, and Avice felt the burn of his eyes. She gestured for him to continue to play. He flicked his gaze from Avice to Trewoofe and back again, before turning back to the other Faeries in the garden.

“In the villages of greater Penzance, it is not uncommon for girls to wed at that age—”

Trewoofe pulled his lips back, flashing his fangs. “That does not make it right!”

“I know.” She laid a hand on his scales and stroked him reassuringly. “I know.” Avice took a deep breath before continuing. “The problem was not what he did to me. The problem was what he did to me and we were not married at the time.”

Trewoofe’s growling stopped under her featherlight touch, but his muscles remained tense. “What did he do?”

One hand still on his bicep, she reached the other to clutch her pendant. “It was the Lord’s Day. So, the tavern was shut. Mister Inman sent a stableboy to fetch me after the service. He said if I wanted to keep my employment I should come and help him clean for the afternoon trade. Of course I came, the coin my mother and I earnt kept us from starving.” Avice worried her lip with her teeth. “The stableboy sent me down to the ale cellar. Telling me the master wanted me to start there. Mister Inman was there. He told me to get undressed. I told him no.”

Avice removed her palm from Trewoofe and traced her fingertips over the scar that circled her eye, then touched the one that marred her lips. “That was when he sliced me.” She grazed the hem of her skirt. “He cut off my dress and chemise…”

“Avice?” Trewoofe lowered his head and brushed his tongue against her face to catch the tears she had not realised were falling. She quivered under his gentle touch. Avice swallowed as he retracted his tongue, already missing the warmth of his touch.

“He forced me. He is the only man I have ever been with, and he ruined me. Took my virginity and made me unworthy of marriage.”

“I do not know what being ‘ruined’ or a ‘virginity’ is. Living so close to a human village, I am aware of what marriage is. So, if something being done to you, without your permission, makes you unworthy of it. Well, why would you want it to begin with?”

“The local priest and Moot Council’s solution was to have me marry him.”

“What?!”

“They tried to make me marry him. That way I would be Goodwife, and not a ruined girl.” She clenched her jaw. “They tried to stitch up my wounds with pretty ribbons and silence my screams with a veil.”

Trewoofe stood abruptly. “Which direction is Saint Buryan? Point it out to me.”

Avice squinted up at him, lifting her hand to protect her eyes from the weak Sunshine. “Why?”

Steam rose from Trewoofe’s mouth as he huffed. “Because I am going to kill him.”

Avice gave a short, sharp laugh. “I would tell you, if he were still alive.”

The Knucker cocked his head. “What is the rest of the story?”

“My mother said no, thank God,” Avice continued. “She sent me to apprentice with Great Aunt Agnes. When I moved to the cottage, and started to learn more about witching and midwifery, I did not even think about returning to Saint Buryan. I liked Lamorna well enough. Then, I received a message that my mother had died from the flu.”

“I am so sorry you lost your mother,” Trewoofe said, settling down next to Avice again, resting his head by her boots. “So, you went back?”

“Yes. I attended the funeral. My mother’s house had already been given to another family, but I collected her few possessions. It meant I had to stay in the tavern,” Avice replied. “After closing, I offered to share a drink with my old master. He thought I was propositioning him, of course. He did not realise I had spiked his ale with foxglove and nightshade.”

“Ah.” Trewoofe’s eyes smiled. “You are impressive, little witch.”

Avice’s face warmed at the compliment. “So, that is why I do not like to be underground.”

Bramble bounded over and the Pillywiggins retreated to the holly bushes. Then, Ashling chirped and landed on the tip of Trewoofe’s nose. The Knucker went cross-eyed trying to stare at the Wisp.