The Yarnsworld Collection: A fantasy boxset

by Benedict Patrick

  With all of this visual information before him, what stood out most for Lonan was the eye that looked out from the helm. Positioned in such a way to reflect the firelight from the room downstairs, Maedoc’s single eye was so horribly bloodshot, it no longer seemed human. That eye locked on Lonan and Adahy just before Maedoc’s final leap.

  Adahy reacted in time with the imposter’s attack, pushing Lonan to the side with inhuman strength, sending him flying up the remaining stairs to the top of the landing. As Lonan completed his flight, suspended helpless in the air, he had a clear view of Maedoc’s claws finding their mark, ripping Adahy open from chest to belly, the force of their impact throwing Adahy’s ruined body towards Lonan. Desperately, Lonan did his best to stand up and hold his ground, just in time to catch Adahy as he flew at him. One hand found good purchase on the back of Adahy’s neck, yet Lonan’s left hand made an attempt to grab the old man around his waist but found only slippery red ribbons. Aghast, mouth open, Lonan moved his gaze from the old man’s emptying eye to the dark figure on the stairs. With what Lonan recognised as a grunt of victory, Maedoc pounced again, making impact with Adahy’s broken body, sending all three of them hurtling across the moonlit, cobwebbed landing.

  With a howl of success, the reigning Magpie King reached a searching clawed hand out to Lonan’s face, too impatient to wait until the mess of bodies had concluded their flight before killing his prey. Horror-stuck, Lonan jerked his head around, doing what he could to distance his face - specifically his eyes - from Maedoc’s touch.

  Suddenly all thoughts of Maedoc vanished from Lonan’s mind as he saw what awaited him at the end of his flight. There, rushing towards him at an accelerated pace, stood the still figure of the Pale Lady, her arms open wide to welcome the trio as they surged towards her.

  It was the roots beneath her nightdress, not her arms, that grabbed them first.

  Both Lonan and Maedoc were restrained around the waist and thrown roughly to one side. Lonan found himself being held to the ground by a tree root, gripping him tightly like a rough-skinned snake. Maedoc lay not far from him. The reigning Magpie King struggled considerably more than Lonan did, ripping at the roots and threatening to break free. The Pale Lady responded in kind, sending more of her long appendages to coil around him, squeezing him into a wooden cocoon. Lonan’s heart leapt for a moment, thinking the Pale Lady had chosen to remove the Magpie King from the forest forever. However, Maedoc continued to struggle beneath the roots, suggesting this was only a temporary arrangement.

  It was clear that it was Adahy the Pale Lady wanted. Lonan baulked when he saw the old man suspended in front of the spectre. Blood was flowing from the wound in his gut now, and the Lady had noticed as well. She lowered her face to the trickle of red, the old man uncharacteristically moaning in pain.

  Then, to Lonan’s horror, more of the tree roots reached up to the stream of blood that came from Adahy’s chest. At first they touched it tentatively, but then one by one a trio of tree roots forced their way into the old man’s chest.

  Lonan screamed in protest and was rewarded by another root reaching tightly across his mouth, gagging him.

  Adahy began to convulse. Lonan’s eyes widened as he saw movement under the old man’s skin. The tree roots continued to surge into his chest, widening the hole but also stemming the flow of blood. His limbs jerked wildly and his head was thrown from side to side. The Pale Lady was learning how to work her new toy.

  The illumination from the stars and moon faded, plunging the chamber’s inhabitants into darkness. The Pale Lady appeared to expand, her huge, billowing shape engulfing the room. She peered into Adahy’s face, blocking it from Lonan’s view.

  “Our time here grows short,” she whispered.

  The sound of the hag’s voice - conjuring up images of maggots feeding from rotten corpses - made Lonan gag, but he forced himself to swallow the bile trying to rise in his throat.

  “The tale is nearly over, Adahy of the Corvae. This final meeting between us was requested many, many seasons ago. I am to ask you to give in. Let Maedoc here take the flower, to start a new line of Magpie Kings. Let his people, the outsiders, thrive in the forest, to take it from the Corvae as the Corvae stole the forest from me in ages past.”

  “The boy. You will let the boy live?”

  Lonan’s head jerked at the sound of this voice. It was one that he had never heard before in his life, except in his dreams. Animated as he was now, in this suspended form between life and death, Adahy was speaking. Lonan could still not see the old man’s face, but the voice was unmistakable.

  I want to live! I’ve just been given back the life I thought I’d never have again. I want to go back to it. But what’s the cost?

  In response to Adahy’s question, the Pale Lady hovered over to where Maedoc lay buried. Her white form remained attached to the mass of tree roots beneath, which guided her body around the chamber like the head of a snake.

  The roots covering the Magpie King’s face fell away, allowing the Pale Lady to address her captive directly.

  “You will let the boy live. Is that not correct?” She indicated towards Lonan, ensuring that Maedoc knew who she was referring to. At her gesture the tree root gag fell from Lonan’s mouth and he felt himself being pushed upright so Maedoc could get a better look at him.

  “The flower will be yours and the boy’s life will be spared.”

  Maedoc’s gaze darted between the Pale Lady’s face and the suspended form of Adahy, and then looked at Lonan. “I promise. You live. No more eating fingers.”

  “And what about him?” Lonan shouted. “What about Adahy?”

  “Nothing can be done for him,” The Lady answered. “This time we have together has been stolen from the last seconds of his life. Once I release him, he shall be dead before he hits the floor.”

  Lonan fixed Adahy with a remorseful glance. At this moment, the former king turned his head to look into Lonan’s eyes. The old man’s dying gaze contained a small smile, but also a look of determination. Then, for the first time in his life, Adahy spoke to Lonan.

  “There is no ‘them’ and ‘us’. You are Corvae. Do not let him destroy our people.”

  “But… but he is so strong. I’m alone. I cannot hope to…”

  “Find the strength. Save our people. Think of those you love, under his rule.”

  Without waiting to see the effect that these words had on Lonan, Adahy turned to face the Pale Lady. Tree roots coiled in his chest, under his skin, but somehow he continued to speak.

  “I visited you many moons ago, my lady, and I promised you a gift.”

  The Lady did not respond with words, but she appeared to reduce in size, moving her body down to meet with the former Magpie King.

  “My life is yours now. This is all I can offer you, but I believe this is all that you are interested in. Blood.”

  Adahy held out his hand to the spectral figure. With a rush of greed, the Pale Lady grabbed at Adahy’s hand, but he withdrew it quickly. The Lady hissed in anger, the branches of her hair stiffening and coiling back, almost as if they were readying themselves to pounce.

  “No, not yet. This has not been a fair deal for me. You may have my life, and all of the suffering I have endured throughout it, but the amount of blood I have shed because of your actions - because you have kept the black flower from me and my people - places you firmly in my debt.”

  The Pale Lady hissed at Adahy again, but relaxed the tension in her posture. She was agreeing to his claim.

  “You have my life, my lady, but you must give me something in return. Just one small favour. Give Lonan a chance, give him time.”

  The Pale Lady nodded, accepting the deal. She dove forwards, claiming Adahy’s life.

  A Lost Tale of the Corvae

  It was winter, as deep a winter as the forest had ever known. It was during this winter that the Magpie King finally closed upon Artemis the trickster after years of pursuing the man in retribution for his theft.


  They met each other over a small stream, its waters struggling to maintain their flow due to the icy conditions. The snow here was knee deep, but this was of no concern to the Magpie King. His powers allowed him to effortlessly glide over the winter coat, allowed him to track the movements of his prey despite the whiteness that now covered his kingdom.

  For Artemis, however, the snow was of much greater concern. The sly man had successfully evaded capture for year after year since he had stolen from the Magpie King. The king and his guardsmen would fly to a village in which Artemis had been sighted, only to find empty purses and broken hearts. They would cautiously stalk the fearsome beasts of the forest with whom Artemis had been sighted in conflict with - fearsome Mother Web or monstrous Wishpoosh - only to find the beasts vanquished, tricked by Artemis into submission.

  But Artemis had discovered an enemy he could not outwit. Time had slowly eaten away at his good looks and his nimble fingers. Now, as he struggled to stand across from his enemy, cold sapping his strength from his bones, Artemis knew his life was at an end.

  “It is over, Artemis. Give it back to me.”

  Artemis smiled. “I cannot. I do not have it.”

  The Magpie King’s head tilted, studying the trickster, puzzled. “You do not lie.”

  Artemis shrugged, a weak smile on his face. “I am sorry to disappoint you with a truth, for once.”

  “This is your final mistake, then. I shall track down whoever you have given the flower to and shall reclaim it for my son.”

  Artemis shook his head. “You do not need to track her down - she has instructed me to tell you. The Pale Lady has your flower now. She awaits your son, if he dares to brave the journey himself. If he gives her a suitable gift, she will allow him to claim his birthright from the flower.”

  There was a deep pause, which Artemis found to be the most pleasurable experience he could possibly have imagined.

  Finally, the Magpie King erupted. “You dare? She dares? That flower is my family’s property, and we have possessed it for generations. She shall not hold it for long, that I promise you.”

  Artemis shrugged and then fell to his knees, his exhaustion causing his legs to give way beneath him. He did his best to push himself back to his feet, but found he could not. “You might be able to win it back by force, but at what cost? Two beings such as yourselves will cause a lot of commotion before one of you falls. She will give the power to your son, and to his son, and to his son, if they but prove themselves. Why destroy so much when you look to gain so little?”

  The Magpie King’s shoulders dropped, and Artemis’ smile grew. The king could see the wisdom in Artemis’ words.

  “But why?” the Magpie King finally asked.

  Artemis shrugged again. “She is an ancient being of the forest. Who am I to question her motives?”

  “No. I do not speak of her. You, Artemis. Why have you done this to me?”

  At this question, Artemis’ expression soured. “Because I do not like you, Magpie King. I do not like what you have done to my people. We were once proud before you laid us low, before you forced us to kneel at your feet.”

  In his anger, Artemis collapsed further, now lying on his back in the snow. He knew he would not rise from it again. The old trickster’s eyes grew dim, and his smile returned. “I can see my victory now, I think. A glimpse of what is to come, given to me in my final moments. Two figures, fighting over the fate of the forest. And you, Magpie King, there is not sign of you or those of your line. You have been written out of the forest’s story.”

  At this, the Magpie King leapt silently over the frozen stream, removed his helm and rested one of his hands on the dying man’s forehead.

  “Yes,” the Magpie King said finally, his eyes closed. “I see them also. But Artemis, you are wrong. These are my people. These two, they are both Corvae.”

  “No,” Artemis spat back, “they are mine. My people, not yours.”

  The Magpie King shook his head sadly. “You have spent so long hating me and my people, you have not seen what has happened in the forest over these long years. Our two peoples are now one. The villages are made up of old and new blood mingling. The Eyrie is the same. The parents of half the men and women who pursue you as my Magpie Guard walked with you through the wilderness before you made your home in the forest. Most would agree that there is no conflict anymore, no difference between the two.”

  “Then I speak for the few whose eyes remain open,” Artemis said, his smile and fire fading. “My act of revenge is for them, and for all the blind fools who have let themselves forget what freedom tastes like.”

  The Magpie King stood and looked upon Artemis with eyes full of pity. Then he put on his helm and took off into the night.

  Alone, happy, Artemis faded from the forest and into legend.

  When the Pale Lady made contact with Adahy’s body, her thin, abused skin cracked open, allowing the roots underneath to burst forth over the corpse of the fallen Magpie King, creating a cocoon around him. Within seconds, both the Pale Lady and Adahy were gone, leaving only a mass of knotted roots.

  Suddenly, Lonan felt his bonds begin to slacken. He saw the mess of roots in the room begin to diminish and he realised that the Pale Lady - her prize now claimed - was withdrawing from the conflict. The cocoon that held Adahy’s body disappeared, pulled into a side room, and the floor began to clear of vegetation. Maedoc also realised his freedom was imminent, and began to thrash wildly on the floor.

  But Lonan found himself free of his bonds well before his enemy.

  Why does she favour me? This was you, wasn’t it, Adahy? The deal you made with the Lady at the end was to give me time. Give me seconds to make my choice.

  Maedoc’s imposing figure began to rise from the floor, ripping the final remaining roots apart himself.

  Am I going to stand aside and let Maedoc have the flower, or am I going to stop him? Is there anything I can even do to stop him?

  The Magpie King staggered and fell, tripping himself up on his bonds in his frenzy to be free.

  I could let you win. That’s what you promised her, to keep me safe. Can’t imagine even you would dare to go against a deal made with the Lady. I’d be free, could head back home to-

  Unbidden, faces injected themselves into Lonan’s mind. Mother Ogma and his own mother, both sheltering in fear in their cellars at night. Even Old Man Tumulty, his sons, the Hammer family and Mother Cutter with her dodgy gut. But especially Aileen and baby Clare, the young ones, and his Branwen.

  All my life I’ve lived in fear, not knowing if each night in the cellar would be my last. Could I end this fear for everyone living in the forest?

  From where he continued to struggle with his bonds, Maedoc blocked the stairway. That gave Lonan only one option for escape. Taking a deep breath, Lonan got to his feet and ran to the shelf that held the black flower of the Magpie King. Outside, thunder rolled in the distance, and fat raindrops began to hit the roof of the Lonely House. Lonan grabbed the flower, took a run at the window of the room, smashed straight through it and fell to the earth below.

  His impact with the ground one storey below him was not pleasant. His upper body hit the ground first, and Lonan fancied he heard a small pop from his right arm. His brain registered no pain from the fall, but he assumed that he would suffer for this later, if he was lucky enough to have a later. He struggled to his feet, mind gasping in rising terror.

  A ragged scream echoed from the house that loomed above him. “Mine! MIIINE!”

  Lonan turned and ran for the trees. In truth, he had no plan for what to do next. To make his escape to a village - any village - would be his best course of action. There he would look for shelter in one of the cellars, in the hope that they would be strong enough to withstand the focussed strength of a mad Magpie King.

  Lonan knew there was no chance that he would make it that far. He only had seconds of life left, as it would take no time at all for the Magpie King to find and catch him. As if to confir
m Lonan’s thoughts, a large thud from behind told him something heavy had made impact with the ground just below the Lonely House.

  Lonan reached the tree line and found his way impeded by tree trunks and shrubbery. A large crunch from behind, much closer than the last noise, told Lonan that at least one tree had been uprooted in Maedoc’s quest for his prize.

  Another scream pierced the forest air, but this was one of triumph. The Magpie King had caught his prey.

  A sharp, raking pain across Lonan’s back lifted him off the ground, spinning him through the air to smash with multiple breaking bones against an old oak tree. Lonan lay in a heap, a lightning flash through the trees highlighting the silhouette of the Magpie King, holding aloft the black flower’s small earthen pot in triumph.

  As life threatened to leave his body, as Maedoc turned his dark head towards Lonan, Lonan thought of Branwen and her baby.

  I’ll never get to know that child now. She’s not mine, but for a short while, I thought I’d be a father to her.

  But I’ve got a different job now. I’ve got to protect that happiness, do what I can to take away the terror and threat from the people I love. I’ve got one last task to perform.

  The Magpie King looked about in confusion. He lowered the pot, not understanding until too late why it was empty. Only at the last second did he turn towards Lonan.

  The Magpie King screamed, this time in terror.