“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 focused 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 confirm 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.
With his last available reserves of strength, Lonan raised his right hand. In it he clutched the black flower, hanging loose from any pot or soil, its white roots glowing brightly in the twilight.
Lonan stuffed the prize into his mouth, biting down hard on its bitterness.
Desperate, with claws outstretched, the Magpie King dived at his enemy.
Lonan was not there for the Magpie King to make contact with. Instead, he had leapt high into the air, his wounds not causing him any more pain.
At the height of his jump, well above the tops of the forest trees, it seemed to Lonan that he was suspended up there in the darkness, at once aware of his enemy beneath him, but also fully aware of the land all around. A family of squirrels squirmed together in a nearby hole, hiding from the noise of the forest outside. Further away, a young girl was crying in her sleep, locked in her cellar beneath a cottage. In the ground deep beneath Maedoc, an earthworm ate away at what used to be a rabbit, long since buried under generations of earth and grass.
As Lonan began his descent, he focused on his enemy again. Maedoc, mad though he was, was also a wielder of the Magpie King's power, and had considerable more experience with it than Lonan. By the time that Lonan’s feet touched the forest floor, the Magpie King had disappeared. Lonan's fist, intended for his quarry’s head, instead cratered into the fragile earth. Sensing the quickly beating heart of his enemy, Lonan raised his eyes to find Maedoc in the branches of a tree some distance from him.
"Now two of us are kings," Lonan shouted at his foe, mustering as much bravado as he was able to.
"No," came the gravelly scream back to him. "It is mine. All mine."
Maedoc leapt from his branch, again darting towards the villager, claws outstretched to make contact with the soft flesh of Lonan's neck. This time, Lonan was prepared for him and did not make to escape the conflict, but instead moved quickly to the side, reaching out to grab Maedoc's wrists as he did so. He made contact, fastening a firm, tree-root grip on his enemy. As he touched Maedoc, Lonan briefly took in the information his new senses gave him about his foe. The Magpie King's bones were thin, but strong. Lonan could feel Maedoc's blood pumping around his body, the thick oozy syrup struggling to push its way past Lonan's tight grip. He was aware of the Magpie King's skin folding, creasing in innumerable places as the old man in front of him struggled against the younger hands. At this moment, Lonan realised exactly who he was facing - an old man.
He had only ever viewed Maedoc's face in Adahy's memories, but of course Maedoc would now be as old as Adahy had been after sheltering in mother Ogma's cottage for so long. Maedoc had more experience with these powers, but Lonan was younger and stronger. Lonan's heightened senses picked up another interesting detail. Maedoc's sweat stank of fear.
"I have you now, old man," Lonan growled, sporting a grin that surprised him with its wickedness.
Maedoc flinched back in response. He squirmed again, using his own incredible strength to break Lonan's grip. Then the Magpie King ran.
Adrenaline surged through Lonan's veins at the sight of a fleeing foe, and he dived after his prey, scrambling on fours through the forest floor to keep pace with Maedoc. Broken branches and smashed bark betrayed Maedoc's passage. Lonan allowed his new senses to widen out to the world around him. Birds flew away from the forest pursuit, having learnt long ago that such events in the forest were best to be avoided. A metallic taste in the air told Lonan they were close to Gallowglass, to the crying girl in the cellar. Lonan made a mental note to return here later, after his hunt, when he needed to feed.
Lonan stopped dead in his tracks, disgusted by the thought that had crept unbidden into his mind. His forehead crumpled. It was beginning already, the price he had known he would pay for taking the Magpie King's power. He was losing himself to madness, and quickly. He would have to deal with Maedoc swiftly, lest he lose control over his thoughts, as Maedoc had done so long ago. Resolved, Lonan dashed onwards, leaping up into the treetops to gain ground on his foe.
Up there in the twilight, Lonan allowed himself to revel in his new powers. He bounded from tree to tree, no longer scurrying along the forest floor, and he had the sensation of almost flying, launching himself into the starlit darkness above his home. He did not need to track Maedoc by scent or by sight now. The panicking man's flight through the undergrowth below was like a thunderstorm to Lonan, a trail of dark clouds marking his passage. It was also clear to Lonan where Maedoc was headed. Rising up out of the forest ahead of them was the steep cliff that housed the Eyrie. Lonan had to stop Maedoc before he reached it. He was not certain how much of the palace staff remained there, or how many Magpie Guard still existed to protect their ruler. Also, it was at the Eyrie that Maedoc was most likely to find any of his offspring, and Lonan's missing finger still ached at the thought of his last encounter with them.
An ant-like shadow crawling up the distant cliff betrayed Lonan's quarry. Lonan did not slow in his approach to the cliff, smashing into that smooth rock face with brutal impact. Luckily for him, most of that impact was absorbed by Maedoc, not able to manoeuvre himself out of the way of his
attacker in time.
Not used to travelling at such speed, Lonan was dazed by the abruptness of the collision. This allowed Maedoc a moment of respite, and he used this advantage to grab Lonan by the hair and threw him upwards, aiming the young man like an arrow at the cliff face. Lonan took great satisfaction in hearing Maedoc's broken bones grinding together as this feat took a toll on the old man's shattered form, but then he himself smashed into the cliff. Lonan groaned, embedded in the stone by the force of the impact. He heard Maedoc laugh as he leapt upwards past Lonan. The villager reached out just too late to catch the escaping king.
That small failure did not deter Lonan, and he plucked himself out of his hole and threw himself upwards, snatching at Maedoc's heels, gritting his teeth in pain against his body's protests.
He did not catch with Maedoc until the cliff disappeared and the Eyrie's smooth walls were the surface that they were running on. It was Maedoc's feet that Lonan was able to grip, and the old man responded by turning on Lonan and slashing downwards with his filed claws. Lonan sensed the attack just in time and withdrew his grasp, losing his prey again and allowing Maedoc to make it to the Eyrie roof.
The Magpie King gave a bark of triumph and aimed himself for a dark opening into the building. As Lonan dashed towards him he was vaguely aware that this was once Adahy's window. The memory of those dreams was already dimming, being flushed from Lonan’s mind by the poison of the black flower. Lonan grabbed Maedoc by the scruff of his neck and threw him back onto the tiles of the roof with a wet crack. Maedoc made a weak effort to move himself, but Lonan was quicker and stronger. The villager landed with his knees on the Magpie King's chest, pinning down all hope the despot had for escape. With angry effort, Lonan grabbed a hold of the battered metal helmet attached to Maedoc's head, and ripped it off, breaking the leather straps and matted hair that had held it to the imposter's face.
For a moment, Lonan stood there, towering over his opponent, revelling in his success. Before him was the withering visage of Maedoc, a head that may well have been captive for decades inside that metal skull. His skin was grey and wrinkled, clammy in the places that sores had not spoilt it. The hair on his head and beard had thinned away to long, ghostly wisps that had entwined with each other to create a matted rat nest of hair. The only teeth that remained in his head were black stumps, and he now gaped at Lonan with an open mouth, dry tongue lolling out of it.
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