Page 76 of The Knucker King

Trewoofe followed her and studied his ward. “Winter is angry,” he stated. “She is furious that Spring has not taken over, and that she continues to labour. This storm is like one of my daughter’s having a tantrum.”

Avice jolted at that. “You have daughters?”

“I had daughters,” Trewoofe clarified. Avice opened her mouth to ask a flurry of questions, but he gestured for her to stop. “I will tell you the story soon. I promise. It is just… painful for me.”

She snapped it closed, sensing a change of subject was due. “Do we need to worry about Winter’s tantrum reaching us through your magic?”

He met her face, expression solemn. “Yes.” He patted his chest. “As strong as a Knucker’s magic is, it cannot withstand the seasons forever.”

She frowned. “Your hill though? It is Spring there all the time.”

Trewoofe tapped his chin. “Yes, it is. But that is not just my magic. That is woven from the enchantment of all the Sidhe Kings before me, and the ancient power from the Underneath.”

“Sid-hey?” she rolled the word in her mouth. It sent a skitter of intrigue through her. “What is a Sid-hey?”

Trewoofe chuckled. “Try again, it is pronounced Shee.”

“Shee,” Avice repeated, drawing out the sound.

His lips plucked upwards. “There you have it.” He nodded. “To answer your question, a Sidhe is the border of an Otherworld. The Underneath is an Otherworld.”

Avice brightened at this new information. “There is more than one place like the Underneath?”

Trewoofe grinned. “Of course, there are many, and each has a Sidhe King. A guardian that protects it and the Faeries who dwell there.”

She was practically bouncing on her feet. “What are the other Sidhe like? Have you met other Kings?”

He began to growl but caught it in his throat. “Kings are territorial. If two should meet, there would be a fight. I have never left my territory to meet another Sidhe King or to visit a different Otherworld. Though, in the past, I have snarled at the huge Morgowr who stalks the coast when he gets too close to the beach. Seeing him makes my blood boil, so he could be a Sidhe King.”

“I have something to tell you about a Morgowr!” she exclaimed.

Trewoofe arched an eyebrow. “What about it?”

Just as she was about to explain, Ashling flitted down from Trewoofe’s horn and floated in front of her chilled face.

He let out a peal.

“Yes, yes. You are right. Snow. Food.” She grinned at the Wisp. “I got distracted. You know how I love to share information and learn new things.” She smiled up at Trewoofe. “I will tell you about it later, for now, I must prepare for the storm.”

“May I help?” Trewoofe asked again.

She eyed his bare feet. “You will catch your death. Can I convince you to put stockings on?”

Trewoofe scrunched his face. “I do not like them. They make me feel like my skin is in a cage.”

“Ah…” Avice instantly understood, that was just how she felt when she wore her head covering. “Well, you can help. But if you get too cold, or your wounds hurt, you must go back inside.”

He gave her a dazzling smile. “I will.”

Avice beamed back up at him. That little bolt of lightning crackled between them again as their eyes lingered on each other for a fraction longer than necessary. She ducked back into the cottage and fetched two copper cauldrons, handing one to him.

She led the way down the garden path, and they stepped out of the stone circle. The howling wind immediately billowed her cloak. She squinted against the blizzard, the force of it pulling frozen tears from her eyes. Together they scooped the knee-deep drifts, filling each to the brim with the snow.

They retreated behind the ward and were gifted with an immediate reprieve from the storm. Trewoofe offered his hand, and Avice gave him the cauldron she carried. In his grip, it looked more like a children’s toy rather than a large cooking pot.

She wiped the snow from her face. “Thank you, Lord. But please do not tear a stitch. If it starts to hurt, you must stop.”

“I know, little witch. I said I will, did I not?” Trewoofe huffed. “Please do not fuss too much.”