Shadows at Stonewylde (23 page)

‘I stopped going every month when I was expecting you, Celandine, during the winter when it was cold and icy and Father said I may slip and fall. I started again after you were born but only for a while, and then I was expecting Bluebell, and then …’

‘Why not after I was borned, Mummy?’

‘Because I was ill, darling. Remember I’ve told you about this? I was very ill for a while and I had to go to a special hospital in the Outside World to get better again. But after I came home, somehow I never moondanced again. I never felt the need to, not until tonight …’

‘You should go tonight – go quickly. You need to go,’ said Celandine, her deep grey eyes full of concern and love.

Sylvie smiled across at the dear little girl, touched by her instinctive understanding.

‘I will, darling. I’ll just see if Granny Maizie’s still up here or if she’s gone home to the Village already. If she has, maybe one of the big girls from school will sit with you until I get back.’

The light was fading as she walked swiftly towards the woods and the hill. It felt so good to be out in the open, alone in the evening. There were a few clouds clustered around the setting sun but the night was clear and fresh. Sylvie wore her beautiful green cloak, decorated with tiny glass beads. It had been a birthday present sewn for her by Maizie. She breathed deeply and smiled – why had she left it so long, when she was born to moondance? She almost broke into a run as she reached the woods leading up to the hillside. They seemed dark but she entered without fear, knowing the path well – it wasn’t like those early days when Yul had worried for her safety. Nor was she in a trance like she used to be, unaware of anything except the overriding compulsion to honour the rising moon – although there was no doubt that she did feel an echo of it. Her heart raced and her fingers tingled strongly. Surely it wasn’t just from the exertion of hurrying?

The wood was full of noises in the twilight; flapping wood-pigeons that made her jump with their sudden panic, the cry of a jay, noisy rustling from squirrels in the dead leaves that carpeted the ground. She smelled wood-smoke and knew the charcoal burners had been nearby that day. Twigs brushed her and several times she had to duck suddenly or lose an eye. Once she heard the unmistakable grunting bark of deer and was reminded of so many things she’d forgotten about Stonewylde. Cocooned in the Hall, she’d lost touch with the wildness and the greenness of life.

Then Sylvie was out of the wood and climbing up through the long, damp grass towards the stone at the top. She passed several rocky outcrops and felt a stirring of memory from that night so long ago, when the three hags had huddled here in wait for her, determined to mark and taint her. She’d never been able to pass this spot without remembering them and their horrible, evil intentions. She’d been up here many a time in daylight to look for the little pouch that Mother Heggy had given her for protection. It had snapped that night on Winter Solstice Eve, when the crones had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground. Try as she might, Sylvie had never found the little leather bag and had given up her search eventually, assuming the crones had found it and kept it for themselves.

The sun had already set, the sky glowing golden blue to mark the point of its departure, and Sylvie thrust all nasty thoughts of the crones aside. She reached the stone, a little out of breath, and placed a hand on its ancient skin. She felt a stream of comfort emanating from it. Then she turned to where the moon would rise, the point opposite the setting sun, and realised that she was just in time for here was the pink rim just peering over the horizon. She felt a wild elation in her heart, an echo of her moongaziness, and began a few tentative steps moon-wise around the stone. She sensed the hares in the gathering darkness and greeted them. Her spirit rose in her body giving her wings and, for the first time in years, Sylvie began to dance.

Just as the full moon cleared the tree tops around the Village Green, Kestrel and his mates were thrown out of the Jack in the Green. George told them they’d all had quite enough and as he ran the pub and was a beefy man, they left without too much protest. They settled themselves on a couple of benches and watched the moon rise higher.

‘Aren’t you meant to be meeting Sorrel tonight?’ asked Jay. ‘You said you’d arranged it all for tonight.’

‘Yeah, that’s right – hayloft after moonrise.’ Kestrel produced a bottle of mead from his jacket and took a swig. ‘No harm in keeping her waiting a little though.’

Swift watched Kestrel carefully, as always learning and storing away the knowledge for possible future use. Kestrel was very good-looking and in his second year at college, destined to be one of the few Stonewylders so far to go on and study at university. Edward, his father, had very high hopes for him. Kestrel’s smile was ready and charming, his features perfect, and he treated the Stonewylde girls as a list to be worked through.

‘She’s had her implant then?’

‘Of course! I’m not going to risk anything, am I? How about you lot, then? Got any little honeypots lined up for the Moon Fullness?’

They all shook their heads.

‘Though that Becky at college – she’d be up for it if she was here,’ said Jay. ‘Pity we can’t bring Outside girls back here. She’s gagging for me.’

Kestrel laughed at this.

‘Yeah, gagging would be the best thing for her, mate, with the mouth on her. Or better still, a paper bag over her head.’ He ducked as Jay made a half-hearted swing at him. ‘Only joking! She’s alright. Maybe we could arrange for some girls to visit. Not that I’ve noticed a shortage of home-grown ones, mind you. That little Sorrel … phew! She’s so keen. And there’s Daisy too, all ready to be picked. I’ve got my work cut out for me. I can’t understand what’s wrong with the rest of you.’

Kestrel knew perfectly well that the others in his gang didn’t share his success with girls. Jay was too aggressive, too quick to fly off the handle. Gefrin was a fool, though Kestrel knew he was keen on some gormless girl at the farm where he now worked every day. Sweyn was probably terrified of girls and wouldn’t know where to begin, which he hid behind a great show of indifference. And Swift … Kestrel wasn’t sure about him. Swift was a bit of a dark horse and he was far too clever for his own good. The older boy decided he’d have to watch Swift in case he turned out to be a rival. He’d noticed girls giving the blond-haired boy the eye, despite his slight build. Kestrel, being tall and muscular, couldn’t understand what any girl would see in a slim, smaller lad. But Swift wasn’t quite an adult yet, in the Stonewylde sense, so Kestrel dismissed any threat from him. He took another gulp of mead and gazed up at the bright moon. Sorrel could wait another ten minutes or so – do her good.

‘Have you heard what happened with that sister of yours?’ Swift asked Gefrin and Sweyn.

‘Stupid bitch, what’s she done now? Apart from making an idiot of herself this morning in assembly,’ said Sweyn. ‘I was bloody embarrassed, I can tell you.’

‘Yeah, and that half-wit cousin of mine,’ agreed Jay, cracking his knuckles. ‘Thank goddess I wasn’t there to see it. Is he going to get it tonight when I drop by at the cottage later on for a smoke!’

Gefrin giggled at this.

‘So what happened with Leveret then?’ asked Kestrel. ‘I heard she was rude to Miranda, wasn’t she?’

‘That’s right – flicked her in front of everyone. So Miranda told her she was on work detail for two weeks,’ said Swift.

‘Hah! No less than the old cow deserves,’ said Jay. ‘I’d have liked to give her the flick myself many a time.’

‘Yeah, miserable old bitch,’ agreed Gefrin. ‘But two weeks’ work detail just for flicking?’

‘Seems a bit steep,’ said Kestrel.

‘Then Yul started having a go at Leveret as well,’ said Swift.

‘Good,’ grunted Sweyn. ‘About time he did something useful. He ought to bring back whipping like they used in the old days and start with her.’

‘No chance of that,’ said Swift. ‘But she did try to snitch on you two. Screamed at Yul about some of the things you’ve done to her.’

‘Little bitch!’ hissed Gefrin. ‘So now we’re in for it!’

‘No, not at all. Maizie stuck up for you both and then Yul joined in. He told Leveret he didn’t believe her.’

Both brothers burst out laughing at this.

‘Did you really stuff her into a tiny cupboard?’

‘Too right! Didn’t think we’d get the door shut, but we did. She weren’t very happy in there.’

‘Well, when Yul said he didn’t believe her she totally flipped and he had to get Hazel in to deal with her.’

‘Hazel? Was Lev ill then?’

‘She went crazy and passed out – all very dramatic.’

Jay whistled.

‘She really is mental, ain’t she? They should put her in a straitjacket and lock her in a padded cell. Just like they did to Sylvie.’

They all laughed at this.

‘So where is she now?’

‘In the hospital wing. She’ll go to Yul’s rooms when she’s better.’

‘I bet Mother’s upset – the little cow always upsets her. Just wait till I get my hands on her!’ said Sweyn grimly. ‘Especially now nobody believes her.’

‘Well you’ll have to wait until she’s allowed home. Yul said he’ll be watching her closely for the next two weeks while she’s on work detail and staying at the Hall,’ said Swift.

Kestrel looked speculatively at Swift, whose blond hair was gleaming in the moonlight.

‘How come you know all this?’ he asked. ‘How come you heard everything?’

Swift smiled and winked.

‘Just in the right place at the right time,’ he said. ‘Are you going to share that mead or what?’

Kestrel laughed at this.

‘No chance! I need something to keep my strength up – I’ve a long night ahead of me.’

Sylvie finished her dance, feeling full of energy and magic. For the first time at this sacred place she’d been fully conscious of the rising moon and its beauty, and was glad that her days of going into a complete trance were over. As she danced around the great stone she’d felt a glimmer of the spirals that swirled on the site. They weren’t exactly under the ground – it was more complex than that. She was part of the spirals herself and felt them gyrating inside her, and yet they were also outside, weaving around the stone, marking strange patterns into the earth and the air. The barn owl had visited – surely not the same one that joined her all those years ago – and its ghostly white wings had whispered through the night as it floated towards the stone. Perching there, it had raised its exquisite heart-shaped face towards the silver moon and stared, black eyes fathomless in the dark night.

Now Sylvie leaned against the stone soaking up its energy. She tingled with life, with excitement – this was how it should be, what she was born for. She felt that a new era was beginning and she could put the past behind her. She’d forget that terrible experience in bed with Yul, when she’d genuinely believed that Magus had returned to haunt her. She felt strong now, ready to take on the challenge of the year ahead; ready to work with her powerful husband, not against him. And ready to guide Stonewylde through the difficult months as Clip prepared to leave.

Sylvie raised her arms to the moon and poured out her soul, receiving an equal measure of quicksilver magic in return. Then remembering her two little girls who may still be awake and wondering where she’d got to, she began to make her way down through the wet grass towards the woods. She was just skirting a group of boulders that protruded from the hillside when she stopped in her tracks, heart beating erratically. She’d caught the faintest whiff of scent.

And then the voice, soft and deep, filled her head.

‘
Sylvie, Sylvie, my moongazy girl
…’

She sank onto a boulder, her eyes wild with panic.

‘
I love to watch you dance. You’re as beautiful now as you ever were
.’

She looked around frantically. Where was he? This was real, this wasn’t just in her head. He was really here, and close by.

‘
But Sylvie, you should be at the stone on the cliffs. I’m hungry for your moon magic
.’

Her eyes swivelled desperately, catching the moonlight in their silver irises. She peered all around, then up at the stars glittering like scattered diamonds in the cold night air.

‘
I’ve come back for you, my moongazy girl, and this time you’ll be mine
.’

Her chest heaved in panic and her hands trembled violently. Where was he hiding? Then she heard a low chuckle from behind a boulder and she sprang to her feet screaming, clutching at her head to block out the terrible laughter. Her feet moved of their own accord; she was off, running down the hillside, stumbling in the tangled grass, crying at the nightmare to go away and leave her alone.

Sylvie almost missed the entrance into the wood where the path began, but at the last minute spotted the dark archway amongst the trees and swerved into the shelter of the trees. She raced along the path, sobbing in terror, oblivious to the birds that squawked out of their roosts at the unwelcome intrusion. Several times she tripped over tree roots, once falling flat on her face on the soft earth and pushing herself up desperately to continue her headlong flight. She thought she heard a deep voice calling her name, again and again, which spurred her on even more. Then she felt strong arms around her holding her tight, twisting her round so she could run no further. She screamed and screamed, shaking her head from side to side, long silver hair rippling in a wild halo.