The Knocker lurked deep in the Cornish tin mine. It was a withered, subterranean sprite that tapped on the walls to warn—or threaten—miners. Tommyknock Warning. "Mine," it hissed, clutching a nugget of tin.
Áine, the Irish Goddess of Summer and Sovereignty, stood at the mine entrance. She brought with her the scent of hay and the heat of the midday sun.
"This hill belongs to the green earth," she declared. Sovereign's Right.
The Knocker didn't like the fresh air. It threw a sharp stone at the intruder. Tinker Theft.
Áine sighed. She didn't dodge. She simply stepped inside.
She didn't need a lantern. She was the light.
Midsummer Radiance.
The blinding brilliance of the summer solstice flooded the dark shaft. Shadows were banished instantly. The Knocker, a creature composed of gloom and coal dust, shrieked as the holy light touched its skin. It didn't fight; it evaporated, dissolved into a small pile of soot on the tunnel floor. Áine dusted off her hands and planted a flower at the entrance.