They Mostly Come Out At Night (9 page)

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Authors: Benedict Patrick

BOOK: They Mostly Come Out At Night
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Fear struck at Lonan. "What's happened? Where's Aileen? Is she alright?"

Old Man Tumulty walked across to him and stared at his face. "Seems alright now, doesn't he? Got a sore voice, have ye son?"

"Damn your sore voice, is my sister safe?" Lonan shouted back at the elder. Funnily enough, a grating pain shot down his throat as he yelled.

A commotion from upstairs let Lonan know there were more bodies in the building.

"...my own house. I should be down there too - healing is
my
Knack, as you are all well aware." 

The furious face of Mother Ogma trotted down the cellar steps, followed by a protesting young man. Mother Ogma spun and pointed her finger at him, "Ciaran Dripper, you let her through now or I personally will guarantee those sores on your pecker will not heal by the end of the winter." She turned to look at Lonan again. "You back to us, boy?"

"Where else would I go?"

Mother Ogma muttered, "We'll find out about that later," before addressing somebody up the stairs again. "He's fine, come and take a look."

"Lonan?" With that innocent question, Lonan was greeted by the sight of his sister running into the cellar, pushing past the crowd in the safe room and embracing her brother in a tight hug. "Don't do that to us again, you scared me."

Lonan hugged his sister back, carrying her as he stood up from his bed. "Well, now I've got the girl, would someone mind telling me what in the Magpie’s name is going on here?"

"You were screaming," his sister responded, her head nuzzling his chest, "and you wouldn't stop."

"Is that it?"

"You've been doing it for the best part of an hour now, lad."

Lonan looked in shock at the collection of faces before him, the pieces of the puzzle all falling into place now. Of course such a long period of shouting would attract attention in a community such as Smithsdown. That did not explain the unusual assortment of faces he woke to though.

"I wouldn't wake?" he questioned dumbly.

Jarleth stepped smugly to the fore. "No amount of shaking or pinching seemed to do it. We decided your mother would be the best person to make a decision about what should be done if you were indeed going mad. My expertise in these matters made me a natural fit to advise." Lonan ignored the telltale flare of Quarry's Knack in action.

"Well, I am touched that you all care so deeply," Lonan addressed the room with a distinct lack of sincerity, "but I do hope you all understand I have better things to do than sit around and chat all day. Does no one else have somewhere to be?"

Tumulty grunted, "Comon boys, we're already behind with today's harvest."

"I preferred him when he was screeching his throat out," Callum said to his brother as they followed their father, emptying the cellar.

"Anytime, old sport," Jarleth playfully pinched Lonan's face where his hand had made contact minutes earlier, highlighting to Lonan how tender that area was now. "I'm starting to get quite good at this kind of thing." He left too, swiftly followed by Lonan's own mother, who whisked Aileen away without ceremony.

Ten minutes later, Lonan found himself upstairs, sitting at the table in a room whose general untidiness betrayed the gathering of people that had occupied it until recently. Only Harlow remained now, rocking mindlessly on his chair by the fire as if nothing unusual had occurred.

"Bet you loved having someone else to chat to," Lonan addressed the old man, not expecting any kind of response.

Mother Ogma busied herself around the room, sweeping up the dirt brought in by half the village and rearranging the many aspects of her pharmacy that had been upset by the bodies.

"I don't suppose you'd like to talk about it, dearie?" she said as she worked.

It was a good question. Uncharacteristically, Lonan did not respond with a barbed comment and instead mulled over his dramatic dream as the porridge cooled on his spoon.
Is it normal for a dream to continue the story from the night before? Maybe it’s because I spent so much time yesterday thinking about it? It would just be natural for my mind to try to continue the story, I guess. But last night's vision was brutal. Adahy’s life was cut down just as he was given hope of a better future. It must take a sick mind to come up with a situation like that.

Lonan could not help giving a sly grin at that thought.

"Well, things can't be that bad if we can still manage one of those once in a while."

Lonan nodded at Mother Ogma, his grin continuing. "Just a dream. A mad, out-there dream. Had it last night too."

"I would ask if there was anything exciting in it, but I dare say I already know the answer to that one."

"Heh. Well, you know, just doing what I can to keep you on your toes."

"You'll be alright though?"

"Just my mind using the worst bits in there against me. I probably should have warned you a while ago that I'm a right fountain of craziness, me."

Mother Ogma raised her eyebrows. "I don't suppose somewhere in there is the type of craziness that would finally be able to pick me some evening primrose today?"

Lonan threw his hands into the air in mock frustration, warding off the guilt that his repeated failure at this task was making him feel. "Artemis' beard, fine."

He grabbed his bag and made towards the door, but paused just before he left. "Mother Ogma, you've been around for a while."

"Thank you for noticing, dearie."

"I mean, I know people say the attacks weren't always as bad as they are now. Is that true?"

The old woman turned to her young charge, studying him quizzically. "I suppose not. They still came though, but I guess we got more visitors, dearie. Got a chance to see a bit more of the forest myself too."

"Did you ever get the chance to see the Eyrie?"

She barked a laugh in response. "Oh no, not me, dearie. A fine palace like that, they wouldn't let me close enough to smell it. Nearest I ever got to the Magpie King was when we went to visit the temple when my mammy and pappy died."

Lonan's blood stopped running. "Temple?"

"Well, I guess so. Or a shrine, I can't really remember what we were supposed to call it. Used to be tradition for a family to take a trip there every few years, to honour the Great Magpie or to pay respect to the dead. And pay taxes, of course, some stupid tax or other."

"You went to the shrine?"

"Oh, yes, dearie." She visibly shuddered. "Twice, I think. Scared me silly too, if I remember rightly."

"What was it like? Inside, I mean."

"Oh, dark I suppose. Dark, and lots of bird poo. But I do remember this big pole at the back. Magpies standing on magpies, all made out of wood, reaching to the top of the rafters. Silly, but those birds terrified me."

Lonan did not respond.

Mother Ogma returned from her deep thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Without saying a word, Lonan turned and left.

Emerging into the daylight, Lonan fell into a full sprint and headed straight into the forest.
The totem pole? How in Artemis' name did she know about that?
His foot snagged on a rotting branch, sending him briefly to the ground but he hardly seemed to notice.
Damn it, this was supposed to have been just a crazy coincidence. It couldn't actually be true.
He dropped to his knees and screamed into the wild.

Lonan spent the majority of the day wandering around the greenery, puzzling over things in his mind. By chance, as he was doing so, his eyes caught a glimpse of yellow, and he recalled Mother Cutter’s primroses. The guilt from earlier that morning came back, and Lonan spent the rest of the day ensuring he had enough of the weed in his gathering pouch before he considered heading back to Mother Ogma’s. He also managed to find some weaselwort, which he knew helped with pain. Perhaps that might make up for the extra days of discomfort he had caused.

As he searched, he started to consider Adahy, and how terrible things would be right now for the prince if he actually did exist.
To watch his father being ripped to pieces like that, to have his whole life taken away from him.
Lonan shuddered at the thought, as if someone had been walking across his own grave. After that, his mind began to consider what was going to happen next. If the Magpie King was gone…

If the Magpie King is gone, then there is nobody left to protect the villages. Things have been bad enough with the King looking out for us, but now that the Wolves have free reign over the forest, what’s to stop them beating at cellar doors until the wood finally gives?

Lonan sat down at the thought, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.
It’s not real though, is it?
He thought he had convinced himself with his theory about dreams being byproducts of waking thoughts, but how could that have explained the coincidence of the breech at the Quarry cottage last night? And the continuation of his dream? There was no way Mother Ogma’s description of the temple was a coincidence.

Why me, the Knackless man from Smithsdown? Why should I be the one to see these things? Is it some kind of warning? Because if the dreams are real, then we’re all in a lot of trouble.

Lonan took a few moments to ponder these last thoughts, and then sat up straight, mind now resolute. He felt like a madman, but he could not take the chance that these were all just figments of his imagination.
If I’m going to treat these dreams like some kind of warning, what can I do about it?
After a moment of quiet contemplation, Lonan picked himself up and ran home.

The sun was setting when Lonan huffed into the village again, and he made straight for his mother's house and banged on the door. Her hard face regarded him through the half open portal.

"Yes?" she queried bluntly.

"I'm coming here tonight.”

She physically jerked her head back, lips curling. "Won't Ogma miss you?"

"Nope. She's coming too."

"No. Not in my house-" his mother began to respond sharply, but Lonan cut her off by grabbing at her blouse and pulling her close to his face.

"Listen to me now, you will need me tonight. It’s going to be bad. You heard my screaming this morning? It is going to be bad." He let go off her, sending a shocked woman staggering back into the cottage. "Get Aileen downstairs and take any weapons and as much oil as you can, understand?"

Without waiting for any kind of response Lonan took off again, this time to Mother Ogma's. It took a short amount of time for him to convince her to take part in his scheme, mostly achieved by Lonan picking Harlow up and dragging him to the doorway by himself. When the three of them made their way back to Lonan's mother's house, it was empty.

"Aileen?" Lonan's shout echoed down into the vacant cellar. "Aileen?"

"What’s going on, dearie?"

The sunset bell began to chime outside. Lonan ran out onto the village green and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Aileen. Aileen. Where is my sister, her home is empty? Aileen."

No heads popped out at this time of night, as darkness threatened to fall. His only responses were shouts of abuse from nearby buildings, or the thuds of cellars being sealed shut.

"I’ll stand here shouting until I have my sister, and dammit if I won't lead the Wolves right to one of your doors if you leave me outside."

"She's with me, Anvil. Get to bed." Lonan's heart sank as he turned to see Quarry in his doorway. Was his sister's life really going to be in the hands of this idiot tonight?

Lonan ran to Quarry’s cottage door and shouted past the blacksmith, "Mother, come to me. It’s going to be bad tonight. I can protect you."

"Like you looked after daddy?" Jarleth jibed spitefully. "Or Branwen?"

"Go hang yourself," Lonan spat back. Tears were running down his face by this point, and only then did he catch the glowing embers from the forge that Jarleth had stolen from him. Lonan’s gut curdled at that sight, and at what it meant for tonight. "He's even left the damned forge fires going again. The smoke'll lead them straight to you."

Jarleth rolled his eyes, shrugged and closed his cottage door. A thick thud moments later signified Lonan's family being taken away from him.

"Lonan. Quickly, into the cellar.” The sound came from Mother Ogma, leaning nervously from Lonan’s mother’s doorway. “I have never been out this late in all my years."

"The Magpie King is dead.” Lonan stood with his arms outstretched, shouting across the silent village, tears running freely down his face. “Dammit all, he's dead, they got him. There’s nobody out there looking out for us now. They will come for us tonight."

"Lonan. The sun has gone. I'm shutting the door now."

Sobbing, Lonan followed Mother Ogma's voice, tripping down the steps and collapsing into the bedsit as the cellar door slammed shut.

"Now then, dearie, what's this all about?" she murmured comfortingly, moving over to stroke Lonan's head. "What is this about the Magpie King?"

Lonan let everything spill forth, about the Magpie King, Adahy and the fall of the Eyrie.

Afterwards, Mother Ogma regarded him silently. "That is some story you have there, dearie. You might almost be able to convince me it was true."

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