His cry echoed around the entire throne hall, making even the guards wince.

Then, there were dark red eyes.

A heavy copper hand.

The hand that took him from grandfather's arms and, for a moment, squeezed.

Something shortly creaked inside him, and the cry stopped.

He was now laying on that giant copper hand, his blue eyes shut, - a small, defenseless creature the owner of the hand could finish any moment, but for some reason, didn't.


…„No use, Your Majesty", sighed the old Drill Bit. "We've done everything we could. We've isolated him from any disturbing visitors… er, certainly, except you, but… The child still doesn't talk".

He lowered his head, sighing once again, and deep down regretted he had no arms. Because the child he was talking about – a little live Bow, curled up on a bed under the thin white blanket, – definitely needed at least a slight hair ruffle, if not a hug.

„Still – doesn't – talk", repeated King Smithy, and his eyes angrily flashed. „Fine. Ma-jes-tic!", added he, already obviously irritated. "When I demand taxes from my people, I ask for the best of the best, the cream of each clan; and here, what do I see? And besides that, he's WOODEN?"

"Your Majesty!", exclaimed the Drill Bit. "Please, calm down, no need to shout! You'll only scare him even more!"

"Gggggnnnnn…" – Smithy squeezed his copper fists, about to smash his poor advisor, but a thin weak creak from under the blanket stopped him.

"Hmmm…" – Anger on the mechanical King's face changed to the usual grimness. - "Okay. Let this defective twig live… for now. But if in a week I still won't hear a word from him…" – Smithy's fist hovered over the little Bow. – "Got it? - at least a word… - he'll end up as my firewood!"

"Y-yes, sir…", sadly responded the Drill Bit. "I… I'll try my best, sir".

Smithy left the room, grumbling something to himself.

"You better try your best too, little fellow", whispered the Drill Bit, bending over the bed and slightly rubbing his cheek against the little Bow's shoulder – that was all he could do to cheer the child up. "I'd love to help – you can't even imagine how much. But what can I do?.. Only shield you from His Majesty's fists…"

The Bow kid creaked once again in his sleep.

"All right, all right, enough for today". – The Drill Bit nodded and left.

From behind one of the doors in the hallway, he heard two voices whispering.

"The young Masters? Still awake?", he thought, peeking in.


The old advisor guessed right: it in fact was the bedroom of other Smithy's adopted (or, rather, taken from their families by force) kids. Five colorful baby androids, the newly arrived Axems from the Axe clan, were sleeping at the bottom of a large two-floored bed. At the top, an elder Spear boy with a red fringe was telling something to a little red Knife Imp and a Pogo Knife, who both were only gazing at him, being afraid to miss at least a word.

"Master Yari… Hey?.. Master Yaridovich?.." – called the Drill Bit.

"Huh?" – The Spear boy turned to the advisor, his lanky legs hanging down from the edge of the bed. – "Ah, it's you, Jabit… Five more minutes, please! Can't you see…"

"…that it's already past your bedtime, young man," finished the Drill Bit. "His Majesty won't praise you for staying up so late."

"It's because of Mackie", responded Yaridovich, nodding at the Knife Imp. - "He wanted me to tell him and his Knife a story. They both can't sleep."

"The Knife says he has nightmares!", squeaked Mack. "He's afraid, and so am I!"

"Believe me, Lord Smithy's wrath is much worse", whispered Jabit. "You better sleep now. He can come in any minute!"

"He isn't even here yet", laughed the Spear boy. "When he's coming, my fringe starts to tremble. And now it doesn't. See?"

The old Drill Bit nodded.

"And where've you been, Jabit?", asked Mack. "Shouldn't you go to sleep too?"

"Checking your other brother", sighed the advisor.

"Come again?" – Yaridovich's amber eyes grew twice wider. - "We've got one more brother, and father didn't even tell us anything?"

"Because this one is wooden", explained Jabit. "It's a Bow, and he's about your age, Master Mack. The only thing is, he can't talk, only barely creaks, and is very weak. His Majesty thinks it's no use to keep him in the palace any more…"

"No use?", re-asked Yaridovich. "Our brother?"

"Why I only told that to you?..", groaned the Drill Bit. "There's nothing we can do about it… Nothing, Master Yaridovich. Better forget my words. I don't know if His Majesty will listen to you".

For a minute, both mechanical boys remained silent, just looking at each other.

"I'll come and see our brother tomorrow", finally said Yaridovich. "We both will."

Mack nodded too.

"I can't stop you from that, Masters", responded Jabit. "Do what you decided. Just be careful."

"Wait a second!", remembered Yaridovich, when the advisor was already at the door. "Do you know what's his name?"

"Yes, I've seen his blueprints", said Jabit. "Even they don't look like everyone else's. It's a yellow scroll. And his name is written on it: Bowyer."

"Bowyer", repeated the Spear boy. "Thanks, Jabit. You may leave now."


"That's it… This room… Remember, Mack? It must be his…"

"Ssssh, Yari… They may hear us…"

"Come on, there's no guards. Let's go…"

Two shadows - a little one with two horns on its head and what appeared to be a knife behind its back, and the taller, skinnier one, wrapped up in a cloak, - sneaked into the dark room.

"Bowyer?", called the skinnier shadow. "Are you here? Don't be afraid…"

The little Bow shyly peeked from under the blanket.

Both Yaridovich and Mack gazed at him curiously – neither of them have ever seen such creatures in their entire life. Despite the darkness, they still could see how brightly their new brother was colored – yellow and red stripes covered his entire body, green ball joints joined his thin legs and arms with it; a thin string on the back; a shock of red hair; green eyebrows; and finally, what amazed the mechanical boys the most, - large bright eyes on his little funny face. Not black, like Mack's, not yellow, like Yaridovich's, not even dark red, like King Smithy's. These eyes were blue.

"What a Redhead", chuckled the Spear boy and stretched out a hand to ruffle Bowyer's hair. The little Bow squeaked in fear and hid beneath the blanket.

"Come out, he didn't want to hurt you!" – laughed Mack. "See?" – He himself ruffled his elder brother's ponytail-like bangs, making Yaridovich laugh even more. – "It doesn't hurt at all…"

"Hurt", replied the thin, creaky, slightly muffled voice.

For a moment, both brothers froze. Bowyer was talking! Talking to them!

"I-I… I'm sorry", finally said Yaridovich. "I didn't want to scare you."

He sat on the bed near the little Bow, and carefully lifted the edge of the blanket. Bowyer curled up, holding his head.

"I got it", whispered Mack. "His head hurts, that's what."

"Hurt… it does", sadly repeated Bowyer, and suddenly, already himself leaned his head against the Spear boy's metallic side.

"So that's what he wanted", thought Yaridovich and sighed with relief – the little Bow wasn't afraid of him at all. "He simply needed something to cool it".

"Nice, you are", Bowyer tried to say, but something creaked in his throat, making the words merge into a weird "nyaaa…".

"This is Mack", said the Spear boy, pointing at the little Knife Imp and not paying attention to the weird sound. - "My younger brother. And I'm Yaridovich. But you can just call me Yari".

"Nya… ri", pronounced Bowyer.

"Yari", corrected Yaridovich. "Come on, try once again, Redhead".

"Ya…ri", finally correctly said Bowyer.

"Foremother Anvil!.."

All three winced, looking towards the door: the old advisor Jabit was standing there and couldn't believe his own eyes.

"I-i-it must be a miracle", he mumbled. "I… I don't know how you did it, young Masters, but it's a true miracle… I'm going to inform His Majesty…"


Much to the old Drill Bit's surprise, King Smithy only frowned and grumbled:

"Really?.. I thought he'd completely bitten off that tongue of his in the hall!"

"I.. I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?", re-asked Jabit.

"Nothing…" – Smithy waved a hand at him, giving a sign to leave. – "Just tell that creaky brat not to get in my sight too often".


And in a couple of weeks – not without the help of his brothers, - Bowyer already could talk almost as fluently as the other children. Almost – because he, being a wooden weapon, was speaking a wooden dialect. As told Jabit, this dialect was slightly different from the metal one – mainly because of the word order.

Nevertheless, some of the bad things still weren't easy to deal with – like attacks of terrible headache that Bowyer still had from time to time. No wonder why: he wasn't strong enough to tolerate the smog and the constant sound of the working machinery around the castle, like the others.

Another such thing was his own tongue. When Mack accidentally noticed Bowyer yawning, he saw that the Bow kid's tongue was injured at its very base – as if something (or maybe somebody?) caused him almost bite it off. Because of that, the tongue often got numb, and then Bowyer couldn't pronounce anything but "nya".

All of Smithy's adoptive children couldn't even imagine how did they live without Bowyer before. The Axem babies stopped crying when he made funny faces for them. The strong Yaridovich never refused to carry Bowyer on his shoulders whenever he wanted, or to help him relieve a headache attack. And Mack wasn't afraid to sleep any more, because with a strong Spear brother sleeping from the one side and a nimble Bow from another, there's simply no room for the nightmares.

And King Smithy himself? He barely noticed the little Bow, and seemed to already forget the threat about turning him into firewood. Moreso, he didn't even mind Bowyer to run freely around the castle.

Was it out of his generosity, or simply because the King didn't care what might happen to the Bow kid, - no one could say.


"Master Bowyer!...", called advisor Jabit, coming out to the palace porch. "Master Bowyer, where are you?.. Time to get home!.."

"Here I am! Running! Close the doors, don't!.."

Having to stop playing hide-and-seek with his brothers, Bowyer now in fact was running across the palace yard – so fast that he didn't even notice what appeared to be a purple and yellow pipe on the way.

Kerclonk!..

"It's good that wooden am I", he grumbled, getting back up, then shouted, "Big idea, this is what? A better place for it, there's nyat?"

But at the same moment, the weird "pipe" hissed and started moving.

Then in front of the little Bow appeared an enormous mechanical snake. That was its tail he tripped against so unfortunately.

"Mwee hee hee hee… Just in time, pal, just in time… Nice twig to fall the victim of our show, eh?.."

No, this voice didn't belong to the snake. Bowyer looked up and saw an even more weird, round, brightly-colored robotic jester sitting on its head. Another jester, a bit skinnier, with a face half hidden by a mask, peeked from behind the giant serpent's back.

"I won't bother you, Cloaker", giggled the skinnier one. "Come on, show him. Show him who's the boss".

"With pleasure, Domino!", cackled the round one, waved his crooked saber, and ordered to the snake: "Get him, Earth Link!"

"Touch me, you don't dare!", shouted Bowyer, jumping back. "Punish you, the King will!"

Both jesters only glanced at the palace window, where flashed a pair of gloating dark red eyes, then turned back to him and smirked.

"Get him", repeated Cloaker.

The poor scared Bow kid stepped more and more back – until Earth Link's tail quickly wrapped around him, lifting him up and...

…squeezing…

…squeezing…

s q u e e z i n g…

"MACKIE!..", screamed Bowyer as loudly as he could, writhing helplessly. – "YAA-AA-AARIII-III-III!.."


"Bowyer!", called Mack. "Where are you hiding?.. You won, we can't find you! Come out!.."

"Bowyer!", shouted Yaridovich. "Come out already, Redhead!.. Can you hear us?.."

The mechanical boys searched through the entire back yard. Checked nearly every nook and cranny. Not even a track of the little Bow.

"He promised not to hide in the palace!", exclaimed Mack. "Let's go, Yari. Father must be waiting…"

"Wait, I hear something… Sssh…" – Yaridovich winced, as the thin piercing "…rrriiii-iii!..." reached his ears.

"To the front porch, QUICK!", he shouted, grabbing his brother by the hand…

…The little wooden body of the Bow kid was already creaking in the snake's grip, about to snap in pieces any minute.

"Closer… closer…" – cackled Cloaker, as Earth Link lifted his victim up. "Closer. Good boy…"

The jester lifted his saber, being ready to chop off Bowyer's head.

"Prepare to meet your-"

Ker-PLOING!

Something small, red and silver, landed right onto Cloaker, knocking him off the snake's head. At the same time, Earth Link hissed in pain, weakening his grip. Bowyer slipped out onto the ground and, for a moment, saw the familiar metallic lanky legs.

"Yari…", he squeaked. "Look out…"

But the Spear boy knew what he was doing. Having quickly freed his brother from under the heavy coils, Yaridovich shielded the little Bow from the fangs of the giant serpent. Earth Link tried to bite him, but only hissed furiously every time a sharp blade on Yaridovich's head jabbed into his palate.

Right behind them, the little brave Mack on his Pogo Knife was fighting the two jesters. Luckily, neither Domino, nor Cloaker could jump as high as the Knife Imp. Cloaker's crooked saber couldn't reach him, slashing through the empty air; and each time Domino tried to attack with magic, Mack's Knife landed right onto him.

Who knows how long this brawl could last, but all of a sudden, Earth Link dashed forward, smashing Yaridovich to the ground. Then, with one whip of his tail, the snake knocked down Mack, his Knife and the both jesters, and turned its head to the poor Bowyer.

"An arrow I need…" – whispered the Bow kid, almost hypnotized by Earth Link's vile stare. – "An arrow… Have an arrow… a Bow must… and I don't…"

"Me, Master Bowyer!" – sounded a voice behind his back, and something resembling a metallic arrow hopped right into Bowyer's hand. – "Take me!.."

Without thinking, the little Bow quickly loaded the strange arrow into himself and shot.

He didn't miss. The arrow hit the spot right between the giant serpent's eyes and exploded, coating nearly half of the palace yard with a cloud of metal dust.

When the cloud dissolved, Bowyer saw his both brothers lying unconscious. They were alive, but so weakened by the fight that they couldn't move a finger. Luckily, neither could the jesters and Earth Link, who were all blinded by the dust.

"Mackie?", called the Bow kid, walking closer to his brothers. "Yari? Okay you are, guys?.."

He bent over Yaridovich and touched him by the shoulder.

The Spear boy slowly opened his eyes, and a weak smile appeared on his sideblades.

"Okay… Redhead."

A big dark shadow fell onto them. Bowyer winced and looked up – it was none other than King Smithy. Now he was almost burning with anger.

"WHO – PERMITTED – YOU?"

"Father, their fault it is nyat", said Bowyer. "Save me, they did…"

"I said, who permitted you?", repeated Smithy. "Because of you, I nearly lost my two best jesters!.."

"Attack me first, they did!", exclaimed the little Bow. "Nya… nyarly chop off my head that one did!"

"SILENCE!", Smithy barked. "Who are you to objection me? Guards!.."

Six giant hammers – the Pounders – appeared in front of the mechanical King.

"To the Lead Cooler with these two!", ordered Smithy, pointing at Yaridovich and Mack, then grabbed Bowyer by the hand. – "And this one will join them in a minute!"

"Father, wounded they are!", shouted Bowyer.

"Serves them right", smirked the King, watching two Pounders carrying the mechanical boys away. The other four guards left to help the jesters and Earth Link.

Standing near his adoptive father and waiting, Bowyer noticed something small and red among the metal dust on the ground.

He picked up the strange object – and recognized a collar of a Drill Bit.

Jabit's collar.


"Their fault it is nyat, father", he kept whispering, following Smithy down the long hallway and clutching to his chest what remained from the poor old advisor. "It is nyat… Is nyat…"

The King turned to him.

"One more word", he growled, hovering his fist over Bowyer's head. "Just one more word, and I'll rip your tongue out."