Free Tales From The Wyrd Museum 2: The Raven's Knot by Robin Jarvis

ever closer to the emerald shadows of Yggdrasill and when at last he reached the lowest and most outlying of boughs, he leapt up and swung his great axe.’
    Miss Celandine drew her breath and covered her mouth as she let the tragedy of those words imprint themselves upon the intrigued child.
    ‘Hacked it clear through that monster did!’ she uttered sadly. ‘The world shuddered, as did we all, and after that the sun never seemed to shine quite as brightly again. A horrendous shiver travelled through the great ash, from its topmost leaves to the bottommost root and suddenly we were all afraid.’
    ‘Is that when the tree died?’ Edie asked breathlessly.
    Miss Celandine ran her fingers through the stained and ragged lace that fringed her velvet gown before answering. ‘No,’ she said simply. ‘Only the bough was hewn, the ogre could do no more damage, for the massive branch toppled right down on top of him and broke his frozen head to bits. Served him right it did, but that was no comfort to us. The World Tree was injured and we did not know how to heal it.
    ‘Oh, the poor thing. Three days it took for the people of the city to ride about the trunk to where the sap seeped from that hideous gash. I couldn't look, it was Ursula and our mother who went with a company of guards. Veronica was away at the time, but she returned as soon as she could. She was often away in those days, exploring the outlying regions, blessing the wild forests and standing upon distant hills. I wanted to go with her sometimes but she always said no. Sometimes she could be so mean and tiresome, I do hope she isn't lapsing back into old habits.’
    Then how did Yggdrasill die?’ Edie pressed, before the elderly woman had a chance to be distracted.
    ‘It was the others!’ she cried, astonished at the girl's ignorance. ‘I thought everyone knew that! It was the other giants. They saw what happened to their leader and knew that weapons more cunning than axes would have to be used to be rid of it. They drew silly, weak people and unwary creatures into their service until eventually they discovered the whereabouts of two of the World Tree's roots.
    ‘Oh, it was terrible, into them they fed the bitterest poisons, fouling the waters of the wells and springs which nourished them with their dirt and filthy charms. How we cried when a second shudder quaked the earth and Yggdrasill sickened. We thought that the end had come, but a ray of hope still glimmered, for no one—not even the enemy's watchful spies, knew where the third and final root could be found and so the tree survived.’
    Resting her chin in her hands, Edie closed her eyes and recalled the impressive sight of the withered Nirinel in the subterranean chamber far below the museum.
    ‘But they did in the end,’ she muttered glumly.
    Miss Celandine stroked her head. ‘Don't be silly,’ she said. ‘The end hasn't happened yet, at least I don't think it has. Ursula would have told me, I'm certain. The ice lords haven't returned have they? The sun still shines doesn't it?’
    Turning to the window, she stared at the dismal day outside and sharply drew her breath. ‘Has the last day closed? Are they stirring in the frozen wastes? We must get Ursula. The darkness is coming—the cold and dark are here!’
    ‘No, Celandine,’ Edie assured her. ‘It's only raining. Tell me what happened next, after the two roots were poisoned.’
    The elderly woman squinted once more at the window and shifted in the chair.
    ‘Great expanses of the World Tree started to rot,’ she murmured sadly. ‘In those decaying wounds, all the sicknesses and plagues were spawned. There was no death in Askar in the early days, but soon the bleak northern winds began to carry disease and the spores of pestilence. Many fell ill and perished, and so the glory of Askar began to dwindle and wane.’
    ‘That's sad,’ Edie mumbled as Miss Celandine sniffled into the lace of her collar.
    ‘It was, and is,’ the old