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

woman agreed, blowing her nose upon the sleeve of her dress.
    ‘But the Frost Giants were not wholly successful,’ she added. ‘They had not killed Yggdrasill completely, for the third root was still sustaining it and whilst they continued to hunt and search for its whereabouts, something wonderful happened.’
    Running her fingers over the child's pixie-hood, she beamed to herself and tilted her head to one side.
    ‘When the first bough was hacked from the ash,’ she said, ‘no one knew what to do with it. Obviously we couldn't just leave it there for the ogres to make their nasty weapons out of. The wood was that of the World Tree and no one could imagine what powers it might possess. Then our mother had a vision in which she saw what had to be done.’
    ‘Did the people of Askar listen to her?’ Edie asked doubtfully.
    Miss Celandine stared at the child in surprise. 'Of course they did!’ she declared. ‘She was their Queen! Hasn't Ursula told you?’
    Edie grinned and gazed at the old woman as if viewing her for the first time. ‘Then you're a princess!’ she laughed.
    ‘I was,’ Miss Celandine answered mournfully, ‘a long, long time ago when my name was different. I don't know what I am now. I forget so much of the in-between years, after the great early days. Sometimes I wonder how we came here and all I want to do is get away from Ursula and go dancing down through the galleries. Veronica feels the same, but her legs are bad. If it weren't for her pancakes I don't know how she'd...’
    ‘Celandine!’ Edie said firmly, assuming a tone not unlike that of Miss Ursula at her most severe. ‘What did they do with the fallen branch? What did the vision tell your mother to make out of it?’
    ‘Why the loom of course!’ the elderly woman grandly declared. ‘The loom of destiny, where we weaved the fortunes of mankind and the webs of doom. Veronica would measure the threads, I would spin them and Ursula would cut them. That's what we did for many, many years—ordering the affairs of everyone and everything—the whole world was caught in our tapestry, no one escaped us. No one at all, even we were trapped.’
    Thrilled to the marrow, Edie marvelled at Miss Celandine's words and her skin prickled with excitement. ‘Doooom,’ she echoed. ‘Loooom of Doooom.’
    ‘Of course,’ Miss Celandine added, ‘at first nobody dared to string it and so the very first day it was completed, the loom was left in the courtyard until the night came.’
    ‘What happened then?’
    Miss Celandine turned and pointed to a small painting half hidden in the shadow of a bookshelf.
    Edie peered at it. Within the dusty frame there was a woodland scene enshrouded by dense curling mist and, from the swirling vapours, reared the dim outlines of four great stags.
    ‘At the dead of night,’ Miss Celandine said, ‘Ursula looked out of her window and saw those milk white creatures come boldly into the court and carry the loom away upon their silver antlers. Of course, she raised the alarm at once, but it was as if they had vanished, no one could find any trace of them.’
    ‘But you did, didn't you?’
    Miss Celandine however was growing restive and she looked across the room to Miss Veronica who was peeping over the back of the armchair with a curious, intense look graven upon her face.
    ‘I won't say any more!’ Miss Celandine announced, putting one of her plaits into her mouth and chewing it stubbornly. ‘I've said too, too much!’
    ‘Please!’ Edie cried. ‘What happened next?’
    Miss Celandine clenched her teeth and refused to utter another word, then she folded her arms upon her chest and dug her heels into the frayed carpet.
    ‘It was Ursula's fault,’ Miss Veronica's voice piped up. ‘It was she who walked under the leaves, she who learned too much, more than was good for her—or any of us.’
    Miss Celandine spat the hair from her mouth and tutted disagreeably. ‘Veronica, stop it! Oh, Edith, you are a wicked