They Mostly Come Out At Night (6 page)

This changed on the night Lonan had turned to wave goodbye to Branwen as her family locked up for the night. Lonan had spotted Jarleth turning a key in her house's lock. He was unlocking the door. Lonan had let out a cry to alert someone, but his father misunderstood and had dragged his son into the cellar, worried about a twelve year old's screaming attracting too much attention as night fell. Jarleth had seen, however. He had been terrified when he met Lonan's eyes across the village centre, but had scuttled off all the same, leaving Branwen's door open. The open door served as an invitation for the monsters, and that night her cellar was breached and her mother and face were taken. Worse still, Lonan could not rest knowing that something was wrong, and down in his family's cellar he had continued to scream out of panic and frustration. This brought the wrong sort of attention, and that was also the night that Lonan's father was killed.

Lonan never found out why Jarleth had done it. He had always assumed Jarleth had decided that if he could not have Branwen, then nobody was going to have her. The motives did not matter though. In the morning, when the village rose to the massacre, Lonan found himself accused of foul play. This was the first time he realised what Jarleth's Knack was. All those years of convincing his mother to do his bidding had brought it out in him - Jarleth had a Knack for making people believe him. They believed it was Lonan who unlocked the Dripper door as the sun went down. Nobody, not Branwen nor his mother, had ever treated him the same again.

With these foul thoughts polluting his mind, Lonan found himself unable to locate the ridge that Adahy had stood upon in his dream last night. He did not find this surprising at all, as Lonan was now fully convinced those events were all figments of his imagination. What he did find surprising, however, was how much he had allowed himself to care when he did think that an attack might have taken place last night. He meant those last words that he had spoken to Branwen - his heart felt considerably lighter knowing she was alright. Lonan’s brow creased in confusion at these thoughts. How could he feel that about somebody who hated him so much? Somebody who had let him down. She should have never believed Lonan would ever have put her or her family in danger, Jarleth’s Knack be damned. What good would it be now if she finally decided that Lonan was innocent? She was a Quarry now, with a Quarry child. Any hope that the earlier encounter with his former love had given Lonan was slowly drowned in these dark thoughts as he stumbled about the hillside.

Lonan shook his head to urge these thoughts to leave him.
I have to get out of Smithsdown, go somewhere that’s not been poisoned against me. Magpie King forbid I allow any feelings for that ruined woman to hold me back.

He found the rest of the day to be unproductive, and returned to Mother Ogma as nightfall beckoned, shrugging off her soft reproaches at the continued lack of evening primroses for her medicine cabinet. He curled up in bed in a black mood, craving the oblivion sleep would give him.

Adahy felt terrible. Ever since last night, he had remained in his room, staring out of the glass window to gaze at the dark forest that sprawled out beneath the Eyrie. His father had not spoken to him since their embrace last night. Poor Maedoc had been taken away to the healers and Adahy had not seen him since. All that the young prince was left with was the shame of his lack of action when the moment had called for a hero. He had always fancied himself to be a great warrior in the making. The tales of former Magpie Kings were his stories of choice from his nanny, fuelled by the promise of becoming a legend when he reached adulthood. He hated that child now, sitting upright in his bed with his optimistic, feckless grin.

He clutched at a small portrait of his mother, her tumbling white hair framing her young face. Adahy missed her so much at moments like this. He wanted to bury his head in her arms, for her to stroke his hair and to tell him that everything would be better soon. Adahy’s father was not capable of replacing the tenderness of her touch.

There was a knock on the door. After waiting for a few moments, a voice from behind it queried, "Adahy? It's me."

Maedoc.
Adahy ran across his chamber, opened the door and embraced his wincing friend. The prince did not care that tears ran freely down his face - he just wanted to feel comfort from somewhere.

"Argh, no, not so tight," Maedoc begged.

Sniffing, Adahy backed away, beckoning the whipping boy into the room. Head lowered, he took this time to glance at Maedoc's wounds. The entire right side of his friend’s face was bound by wine-stained linen, tied to his head by a bandage that wound diagonally across his face. He walked with a limp and cradled his right arm horizontally at his waste.

"By the Great Spirit, Maedoc, your face..."

"I know," Maedoc replied, his lip wavering between a sneer and a grin. "The eye's gone." He sat on a stool, tapping the table top rhythmically with his good arm. "And when this comes off, I'll look like a monster."

"Gods..." Adahy's' voice wavered off. "You saved my life."

"Hmm..." Maedoc continued his tapping. "What did your father say?"

"He hasn't spoken to me.”

Maedoc raised his remaining eye.

"I imagine he hates me right now."

"Nah, you'll be alright. He won't abandon his son." Maedoc did his best to worm his fingers under his bandage at his ear, to scratch an itch. "Not sure what my prospects are now, though."

"Are you kidding? You saved my life. You're a hero."

Maedoc raised his eyebrow. "The Magpie King didn't seem to notice last night. Reckon he thinks it’s about time to get rid of me. Guess you’re too old to be spending so much time with servants, now."

Adahy fell to his knees in front of the servant, grabbing the lower-born boy’s tapping hand. "Never. I'll never let it happen. I wouldn't be here without you, I won't abandon you."

Maedoc gave the prince a weak grin. "You gonna argue with him?"

Adahy's heart sank. Both of them knew that his father's word was law.

As if their combined thoughts summoned him, a black shape appeared in the doorway, regarding the kneeling prince with a stern gaze.

"My son?"

Maedoc was the first to react, going to his knee and bowing his head. "M'lord."

"Leave us."

Maedoc grunted as he stood, and Adahy felt a silence rush into the room as the whipping boy left, leaving the prince with the stifling sensation that the air in the room had already been breathed by a crowd of people.

"I've shamed you, Father," Adahy finally uttered, hanging his head as befitted those words. "I am not fit to carry the legacy of our people." He looked up to find his father regarding him dispassionately, cradling the cowl of his station with one arm.

"Follow me," came the command. With that, Adahy's father fitted the mask on his head, and to Adahy's eyes he almost doubled in size as he became the Magpie King. The creature walked to the window overlooking the forest, pushed the glass pane open and stepped outside.

Adahy allowed himself time to blink and take in what had just happened.
There is no balcony to my room - where has he gone?

The prince rushed to the open portal and thrust his head into the darkness, spitting rain peppering his face. Adahy's window was cut into the slate roof of the Eyrie, and a few feet away was a sheer drop down the side of the castle and the mountain it was built on top of. The forest floor, which Adahy knew was below him, was invisible in the dark. Adahy's eyes found his father hunched like a gargoyle on the edge of the roof, a brooding sentinel keeping watch over his forest kingdom. 

It became clear Adahy would receive no help in making his way across the rooftop, and it would be foolish of him to wait until the Magpie King had to reissue his order. Gingerly, Adahy stepped out onto the wet slope. In all the years he had lived in his room, this was something he had never contemplated, let alone actually done. Getting the second foot onto the roof was considerably more difficult, as if his brain's survival instincts were actively fighting the danger that he was placing his body in. Hands gripping the edge of his window frame, he swung his legs outside and painfully inched along the roof. The last stretch towards his father involved having to let go of the bay window and trusting to the grip between his bare feet and the ancient rooftops. With his heart feeling like it would leap out of his mouth with every frantic beat, Adahy slowly slid his hands and feet across the slate until his father's cloak was in reach, and then he threw himself towards it, panting with relief at reaching safety.

"Hold on tight," was his father's only acknowledgement of Adahy's accomplishment, before grabbing him tightly by his collar and leaping off the parapet towards the valley below.

Despite his fear at what should be a fatal fall, Adahy was oddly confident his father would keep him safe. The young prince pulled himself into the Magpie King's cloak, taking comfort in the feathers’ soft embrace. His father was controlling their decent by aiming himself at protrusions from the fortress and the cliff, using the momentum of their fall to propel them to the next available outcrop. This was a technique that many Magpie Kings used in the old stories, but Adahy had never heard of it being performed whilst carrying a passenger. It would be an impressive sight to behold if the young prince didn't have his eyes closed the whole time.

A rush of leaves and the lurching sensation of a sudden upwards motion told Adahy they had reached the forest, his father presumably using the tree branches to swing them, quelling the speed of their fall. After a rough bump and a gruff, "We are here," Adahy opened his eyes to find himself at the Corvae shrine.

As the main religious site of his people, Adahy had been to this building many times before. The shrine lacked the solid stone structure of the Eyrie, borrowing more from the cob and brick village houses, but used those materials in a much more ambitious construction. The main wing of the building was three times the height of a home in most Corvae villages, and it was roofed with slate instead of thatch. Several smaller constructions that bore more resemblance to the traditional cottage were connected to the main hall, presumably living quarters for the priests. His father walked past the guards at the main entrance, expecting Adahy to follow at his heels.

The interior of the shrine was dark. The light of the many candles cast shadows from the sculptures that littered the hall. Incense soaked the air, giving the empty space in the room a heavy feel. Habitually, Adahy's eyes were drawn to the wooden carvings that dominated the walls of the shrine, each showing a separate tale of the Magpie King's past exploits. How the first Magpie King had chosen the forest for his people's home. The deceit of Artemis causing the Magpie King to cast him out of the Eyrie. When the outsiders had come into the forest to hide from the horrors of the world, turning the Corvae from a family into a people. These were stories Adahy had grown up with, that his father had diligently relayed to him night after night, always checking that the young prince could remember and understand each tale. Adahy had loved the journey into these worlds of adventure, but had hated the pressure that had been put upon him to commit them to memory.

Three robed priests were kneeling before a wooden sculpture at the back of the hall, a pole consisting of Magpies standing atop of one another, reaching to the roof of the shrine. Up there in the darkness, black things shuffled in their sleep. The floors of the shrine had to be cleaned regularly.

"Leave us." This was aimed at the priests.

Taking a glance at their sovereign, they bowed and exited by one of the hall's side doors. When they were alone, the Magpie King took off his cowl, becoming Adahy's father again.

"I won't be able to do it, Father. You saw me last night. And, for the first time, I saw you. How can you expect someone who can shame themselves the way that I did to move and fight like you can?”

The large man did not walk to his son, but instead wandered around the shrine interior, gazing at the wooden carvings on the wall. "What do you know of the Magpie King's power? How can I do the things that I do?"

Adahy raised his eyes to the ceiling as he recalled the facts from the stories of his childhood. "Deep in the forest, when the first Magpie King was more in need of help than ever before, the Great Magpie came with a black flower in its beak. Consuming the flower blessed our line, giving us speed, strength, unnatural reflexes. None of which have passed on to me."