The Yarnsworld Collection: A fantasy boxset

by Benedict Patrick

  And Lonan wanted to see the stars again.

  They had never been completely foreign to him, of course. In a cloudless sky in the late evening, the brightest stars were often visible. Lonan had also spent a lot of the past few weeks looking through the eyes of the Magpie King, who walked beneath the stars regularly. However, it was another thing entirely to lie on your back on the village green and stare into a wealth of sparks on a dark canvas. Lonan began by counting them, but quickly realised he had not the numbers in his head to complete the task. By Artemis, I did not expect there to be so many - where do they all hide when the brightest pop out in the evenings? Another mystery I’ll gladly investigate in the future.

  The young man shivered. Hadn’t expected it to be so cold, but I guess winter isn’t far from the forest now. Perhaps, for that reason only, it might be best to find shelter indoors tonight.

  Lonan picked himself up off the ground and froze. There was movement, over by the forge. Something shifting in the shadows.

  Lonan could feel his heart rate ramping up, his mind whirring through the possibilities. A Wolf? But Adahy had been so sure they were gone now. What about Adahy himself? That made no sense either. Why would the Magpie King feel the need to hide himself from a villager?

  The shadow by the wall shifted slightly, tilting itself in Lonan’s direction. It was clear that whoever or whatever was sheltering over there had seen him now.

  It would still not be impossible for Lonan to get to safety. Mother Ogma’s cottage was within his reach, and he was convinced she would not have fallen asleep yet. However, Lonan’s morbid curiosity was fighting that notion. Also, the dark shape was closest to Branwen’s cottage...

  Lonan shifted closer to the forge. Something moved in the darkness again. Definitely too large to be a woodland animal. Unless it was a bear, of course, but Lonan was not foolish enough to believe in such a beast. The way this shape was hiding, he was convinced it was just as scared of him as he was of it.

  “Hello?” he whispered gently.

  Then it leapt at him.

  The blackness was swifter than anything Lonan had seen before. He did not have a chance to even make a move, and when it hit him it did so with the force of one of the Tumulty brothers driving a fence post into the dirt. Lonan hit the ground with a violent thump, sending needles into the fresh wounds of his head, arm and chest.

  He screamed at this, and the shape screamed back at him. It was unnerving, inhuman. Lonan’s bowels released, reminding him of Adahy all those weeks ago on the ridge over Smithsdown. The black shape screamed again, and he realised his initial assumption that it was inhuman was incorrect. The thing standing over him was clearly human, or at least was at one point. Its skin was a burnt black, like the end of a log left in a fire. Despite its strength the thing had no meat on its bones, its powerful arms were no more than ruined skin stretched over a thin frame.

  Most distinctive, however, was its face. A metal mask covered its eyes and nose, drawing attention to its face’s black chin and yellow teeth, which were filed to a point. Lonan should have been most horrified by its eyes. They were clearly human, but the whites had been turned a deep red as if they were constantly, deeply irritated. However, Lonan was transfixed by the nose of the mask. Or perhaps beak would be a better word, for the mask’s nose stuck out and then bent downwards into a point. That and the black feathered cloak that the creature wore could not help but draw attention to its similarities to the Magpie King.

  “What in the hell are you?” Lonan gasped.

  In response the creature screamed at him again, took his right hand in its mouth and bit off his ring finger.

  It took Lonan a moment to realise he was now screaming too. The figure continued to shout, yet now there was a sinister mirth in its bellows. It was making fun of him.

  “No, no,” Lonan struggled underneath his attacker, but it was no use. Its strength dwarfed anything that he could muster even if he had been uninjured. In all of his fear, in what he now assumed were his last moments alive, he marvelled at how unfair this was. Everything had just started to go right. After years of misfortune and being plotted against, this was supposed to be his time.

  “Adahy! Adahy, help me!” It was a last ditch attempt before he said goodbye to his life.

  He was almost as surprised as his attacker when it worked.

  From the black sky, as if leaping straight down from the moon, the Magpie King fell. He was exactly as Lonan had seen him in his dreams. The black and white feathers poured over his body, concealing it in a mist-like embrace, but most significant was the helm. The black metal beak, dwarfing the tiny mask of Lonan’s attacker, pointed accusingly at the duo grappling on the ground.

  “Adahy, my king - get it off, get it off me!”

  The Magpie King rose to his full height and the attacking figure sank back from him, but remained hunched over Lonan. The Magpie King stepped forward.

  “What did you call me?” His deep voice contained a wounded rasp that Lonan had not expected. It also took him a long second to realise that the Magpie King was addressing him.

  “Adahy? I know it’s you. I - I have these dreams. For Artemis’ sake, get this thing off me.”

  The Magpie King reached out and grabbed Lonan roughly by the chin. The first creature did not shy away from the Magpie King’s closeness.

  Something was horribly wrong.

  “You dream of the Magpie King?”

  “Adahy? You are Adahy, aren’t you? You’re here to help me?”

  The Magpie King was silent for a moment, staring at Lonan with his blank mask.

  “Do not leave any remains.”

  And with that, he was gone.

  “Wait, Adahy, wait-”

  Pain shot up Lonan’s arm again as he lost another digit. This time, the creature brought its pointed teeth close to Lonan’s face as it chomped joyfully on his flesh, allowing his own blood to fall into his mouth as he screamed mindlessly.

  He was going to die.

  A rage-filled female voice pierced the pain. “Get off him.”

  A thick amber liquid sprayed over the creature and Lonan, blinding the young man’s attacker.

  “Lonan, roll.”

  Released by the attacking shape as it brought its hands to its face, Lonan squirmed out from under the creature and rolled off to the side, clutching his injured hand as he did so. This gave Mother Ogma all the space that she needed to throw her lantern at the oil-covered monster. Flames enveloped it, and black feathers, now alight, rose to the sky as it shrieked.

  “Quick,” she gasped, pulling Lonan across the green as the creature burned out to a dead husk, “Back to the cellar. Harlow is flailing around like a madman - I don’t know what to do with him.”

  Lonan was going to be very little help, however. As he lost consciousness, his enduring question was: why, Adahy, why?

  Adahy eventually found Maedoc on the Eyrie’s roof. As Magpie Kings were wont to do, he was perched on the roof edge, still in full ceremonial garb, peering out to the forest.

  “There you are, my friend. Your task was performed well, and it bore tasteful fruit.”

  Maedoc did not turn to look at his king, but answered in a gravelly voice. “I take it you liked what you saw then?”

  “Yes, I did. She is terrified, poor girl, and very alone. But she has a good wit about her, and a keen mind.”

  “Quite the looker too, I imagine.”

  Adahy could not help but give an embarrassed grin. “Well, it was hard to say with all that gear on her, but I did fancy the look of those lips.”

  “Her father is very proud of her, you know. Says he has had suitors from all five peoples chasing after her to be their new queen. None of them have a Magpie King though. None that can do this.” With that, Maedoc threw himself up into the air, feathered cloak whistling softly in the wind. Anyone with lesser eyes would have lost sight of him as he disappeared into the night, but Adahy could spy him in the air high above, eventually descending to th
e roof slightly behind him.

  “Now there are two of us, my friend. Think of what this could mean for the future of our people. Two with the power of the Magpie Spirit, now that you have become accustomed to your condition. We shall talk about this later. Now I should return to the gathering, in your place.”

  Maedoc cocked his head at this. “And what for me? Should I return in your place, and serve the princess some more wine?”

  Adahy looked uncomfortable. “I think rest would be the best option for you, my friend. You have taken quite a large step today.”

  “No, I suppose that would be a bad idea. Pretty princesses do not want to look at faces such as mine, do they? In fact, would I have been able to get into your party without this mask? It would turn people’s stomachs just to look at me.”

  “Not so,” Adahy reprimanded. “Many of the Corvae serving tonight carry marks of conflict, and bare them with pride. We have won a great victory against an old enemy, but it has not been without a price.”

  “So, it is to be a servant again then.”

  “I am sorry, my friend?”

  “A servant. I am still a servant to you.”

  Adahy looked lost. “You… Maedoc, we have always been close friends, you and I. My closest, and that is no secret. My friends shall be rewarded.”

  “But still a servant. Despite powers such as these,” and with that he tore a slate off the roof and threw it into the distance. “I remain a servant to the king and his nobles.”

  “Maedoc, this is how it has always been. Mine is a line traced deep into history. We are the true Corvae, the nobles of our people. We were of the forest long before the villagers came, escaping the disintegration of the world outside. This is not something you can earn, despite your new gifts.”

  Maedoc was silent for a while, and then spoke again. “What do you know of my parents?”

  Adahy paused. “Little. Nothing, if I am honest. You have never spoken of them.”

  “That is because I’ve nothing to tell. I never knew them, you see. I’ve always lived here at the Eyrie, at the whim of your father.”

  “Yes...” Adahy was not sure where any of this was going, and was beginning to regret encouraging Maedoc to leave his cell. Clearly the young man’s mind still had some paths to walk on the journey to recovery.

  “But I heard of them. Not from your father, however. Not from a noble. It was a kitchen maid. I had spent the evening trying to seduce her, and her final excuse was she didn’t want a traitor’s son putting a babe in her belly.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “My parents, you see, they were traitors. Involved in a village uprising not long after we would have been born. I don’t know what exactly was involved, but I do know my family’s lives were the price. My parents lost theirs, and I was to give mine to the Eyrie.”

  “I had no idea, Maedoc. I am sorry.”

  “So you see, I’m not really a servant. I haven’t really been your friend all of these years. I’m a slave. Brought into this noble house to be beaten when the young prince was bad.”

  “Think about what you are saying, Maedoc. To claim that we are not friends is madness.”

  “When I saw you tonight, with that princess, it made me realise I’ll never have a woman like that. Despite how close we have been in our lives. Despite the power we both share. My place in life and my face mean I shall be taking the scrapings of the barrel from the palace servants, if I am lucky.”

  “I’m sorry, what? This is about the princess now?” Adahy was losing track of the flow of conversation.

  “Did she like the look of your face?”

  “I - I have no idea. How would I even-”

  “Did she know it was you?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t think-”

  “What about her father? Does he approve of your looks? Your face?”

  “Maedoc. By the Great Spirit. What I look like has nothing to do with this.”

  “Does he approve?”

  “He has not seen me, Maedoc, you know that. Tradition. Now-”

  “Nobody?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “None of the Owls have seen your face? To approve what their princess is looking forward to?”

  “No, I-”

  “Excellent.” With a flick of his wrist, Maedoc buried one of his sickles into Adahy’s right eye, splitting the skin across his face.

  The young king, motionless, remaining eye open wide in shock as the functions of his brain died, was drawn close to his attacker with a fist tightly gripping the servant’s tunic he still wore.

  “Long live the King,” the Magpie King whispered, and then threw Adahy’s thoughtless body off the roof, down the cliff face to be wrecked on the forest floor far below.

  An extract from the teachings of the High Corvae.

  Under the rule of the Magpie King, the forest flourished. The darkness of the spider and the Wolves was kept at bay. Allies were made with the Lions and Owls. Others were kept under control, either through fear or military force. All remained good under the powerful gaze of the Magpie King, good and unchanging, until the outsiders arrived.

  They came in small groups at first. Sometimes a couple, sometimes an individual, once or twice an entire family. They would be found hunting game or gathering fruit, often doing their best to piece together some kind of dwelling in the depths of the woods. Each time the sight of the Magpie King would send the outsiders fleeing to the forest borders, but each time the king grew more disturbed at the sight of these new people. They were unlike the Corvae in so many ways. Most importantly, they clearly had no comprehension of how to live in the forest. The largest groups in particular used their resources wastefully, felling dozens of trees for lumber that could have been provided by just a handful, or by allowing some fruits to rot on the vine instead of taking the time to gather them when they had ripened.

  The Leone and Muridae experienced these incursions too, but paid them less heed than the Magpie King did. The Muridae worried them away from their lands, deceiving them or frightening them until they were pushed from the grassland borders. The Lions were more direct in the expulsion of the strangers from the mountains.

  “They fear us now, and are right to do so,” Reoric had boasted to the Magpie King when last they met. “You should do the same, my friend. They are a desperate people. Some disaster befell them, an empire crumbled, and their people no longer have the strength they once possessed. There is nobody now to protect them from the world, and they seek to hide from those who would take advantage of their plight. Best to send them a message, set them running, before you invite their troubles to your doorstep.”

  But this added knowledge of the outsiders’ woes weighed heavily on the Magpie King’s mind. Although the strangers continued to flee at the sight of him, this was no longer his purpose. He merely wished to observe, as he came to a decision.

  Then it came to be that the outsiders grouped themselves together and forced their way into the forest as one. They numbered the size of a great army, although there were just as many children and elderly among them as there were fit women and men. Few warriors walked with them, and although most of the adults were armed, many of those weapons took the form of crude clubs or sharpened farming equipment. However, the sheer weight of their numbers was enough to allow them to push further into the heart of the forest than they had before. They burned fires to protect themselves and thought little of the danger this could pose in the dry woodland. The Magpie King watched their progress with great interest, intervening to protect the forest from their flames or to protect the outsiders from any threats that were naturally drawn towards the din they created.

  Their march ended upon reaching the shrine of the Great Magpie. The host of outsiders stood in awe of that great structure so deep in the forest, and looked with fear upon the Magpie Guard sentries that remained silent and unmoving at their posts outside of the temple. It was when the bravest of the outsiders stepped forth to ch
allenge the guards that the Magpie King took it upon himself to intervene, dropping to the forest floor to stand between his people and the invaders.

  The one who had stepped forward was a tall woman, who hefted a large iron blade before her. “Stay back, monster. We shall harm you if you approach any further.”

  “I am no monster,” the Magpie King replied. “I mean you no harm.”

  Another stepped from the crowd, this time a handsome man with no weapons of note, simply a backpack slung over his shoulder. He wore a sly grin, and his quick mind was working hard to turn this situation in his own favour. “There are many of us, and we have nowhere left to turn. Leave this land now, for we claim it as our own.”

  “That I cannot do,” came the Magpie King’s response. “This land, this forest, was gifted to us by the Great Magpie. I watch over it and protect it for our people.”

  “Us?” came the question from the clever stranger’s lips. As if on cue, the branches rustled above the heads of the assembled outsiders, betraying the host of Magpie Guard that lay perched above them, armed and ready to pounce.

  Overcome with exhaustion, the woman threw herself at the feet of the Magpie King, much to the disgust of her companion. “Spare us, please,” she pleaded. “We have nowhere left to go. We cannot stay in the lands of our fathers - they are overrun with bandits and raiders which we have no power to protect ourselves from. Everywhere we turn, we are forced out or killed by all manner of beasts - snakes, owls, wolves, lions, even mice. We simply wish for, simply need somewhere to call our own again. Somewhere to live in safety.”

  The Magpie King put a sympathetic hand on the woman’s shoulder, feeling her shudder in fear at his gentle touch. “I am afraid the forest has not been your best choice for sanctuary. This is a dangerous place, as dangerous a place as there must be on this world. It will not allow you to stay here in peace. Dark things will seek to feed on you and force you from its borders. You will find no rest here.”