Shadows at Stonewylde (26 page)

BOOK: Shadows at Stonewylde
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‘I wouldn’t waste your time,’ said Yul. ‘She can be very difficult and rude and she’ll probably just snub you.’

‘Well she wasn’t rude to us!’ said Celandine hotly. ‘She was very kind and we’d like her to come and stay again.’

‘Yes, again!’ said Bluebell. ‘Tonight! Can she come tonight? It’s the Frost Moon and we can make up another chapter in our book. “The Hares at Frost Moon”, we’ll call it, and Auntie Leveret can help us with all the spelling.’

‘Are you going moondancing again tonight, Mum?’ asked Celandine. She’d been practising a special dance all month, desperate to go up to Hare Stone next spring as promised. She was disappointed when her mother merely shook her head.

‘But why aren’t you going tonight?’

‘Your mother didn’t enjoy it last time and she won’t be doing it again,’ said Yul curtly.

‘Is that true, Mum?’

‘Of course it’s true!’ he snapped. ‘That’s enough, Celandine.’

The girl looked at her mother with puzzlement.

‘But it used to be the best thing ever, you said. And you told us it was magical at the Owl Moon last month.’

‘It wasn’t magical, it was terrible,’ said Yul, glowering at Sylvie and the girls. ‘And your mother was ill afterwards, remember? She couldn’t have breakfast with us because she was all sleepy in bed in the morning.’

‘I wasn’t ill,’ said Sylvie quietly, the issue still not resolved because they’d both been skirting around it. ‘You know full well why I was sleepy the next morning. The moon dancing was magical and I loved it. But I had a bit of a fright afterwards in the darkness and I panicked.’

‘You were totally hysterical.’

‘Only because I was frightened.’

‘What frightened you, Mummy?’ asked Bluebell through her toast. ‘Was it the barn owl?’

‘No, darling, not the barn owl. I thought I heard something.’

‘What?’

Sylvie’s eyes met Yul’s over the table and she knew he was waiting to hear her answer too.

‘What was frightening, Mummy?’ repeated Bluebell. ‘Not the hares?’

‘No, not the hares either. I just … I don’t know, I thought I heard a voice and it scared me. It sounds silly now. It was all a lot of fuss about nothing and I certainly wasn’t ill.’

She glared at Yul, still upset that he’d called for Hazel and forced the injection on her.

‘It wasn’t a lot of fuss about nothing,’ he said firmly. ‘It was very unwise of you to go up there alone in the darkness. Luckily you’d told the girls where you were going so I was able to come and find you. I dread to think what would’ve happened if I hadn’t been there.’

Sylvie remained silent at this, abandoning her toast. She knew exactly what he was thinking; hearing voices had been one of the symptoms of her illness. He should understand why she was so reluctant to talk about this business now.

‘I don’t think it was unwise of her to go up there,’ said Celandine bravely. ‘I think it’s just what Mum needs, some moon magic. I’ll come with you tonight, Mum, if you’re scared to go on your own.’

Yul slammed his cup down onto the saucer so the tea slopped onto the tablecloth.

‘Your mother is not going anywhere tonight!’ he said. ‘And neither are you, Celandine. No, nor you, Bluebell.’

Sylvie felt really annoyed now. She hadn’t intended to visit the stone that night, being far too frightened of the possibility of hearing Magus’ voice again. But that was her choice to make, not Yul’s.

‘Your father’s forgetting that I make my own decisions,’ she said coldly. ‘If I wish to go moondancing I will. I’ll decide later on. But it’ll be much too cold at the Frost Moon for you two. As I said last month, I’ll take you in the spring. You can watch the moon tonight from the sitting room window and you’ll be warm and cosy.’

She stood up abruptly and folded her napkin.

‘Hurry up now or you’ll be late for Nursery. Go and brush your teeth and then we can get going.’

She looked across at Yul who was frowning, keeping quiet in front of the children. Doubtless he’d bring it up again later on. She almost wanted to moondance just to spite him … but Sylvie was still terrified of who might be waiting up there for her.

Leveret sat at a large table in the Great Barn, letting the tittle-tattle wash over her. All the talk was about the dance to be held just after Yule, but Leveret had far more pressing things on her mind. Tonight she faced a serious dilemma. She desperately wanted to gather things for her spell at the Moon Fullness, things that must be harvested tonight when the magic was strong. But her two weeks spent at the Hall, working for hours on end after school and at the weekends, scouring enormous pots and pans, scrubbing floors, washing the banister spindles of obscure staircases, made her reluctant to risk more trouble. She’d hated staying in Yul’s wing, knowing he was constantly close by and watching her. The only highlight of the fortnight had been her little nieces; Leveret smiled to herself at the thought of them.

She was now back home and trying to behave herself. She looked forward to the celebrations at the Winter Solstice and Yule, and realised that if she toed the line, everyone would ease off her a bit. She avoided her brothers’ unwanted attention by coming along to help Maizie at the endless meetings. Leveret had never appreciated just how much preparation and hard work went into Yuletide. She was down in the Great Barn every night with her mother, who was making never-ending rotas of jobs and lists of food. Leveret found herself getting roped into the tasks and was enjoying being helpful and earning her mother’s praise.

Tonight she was involved with making decorations for the Great Barn. These were mostly different types of evergreen twisted into garlands and wreaths, and candles placed in tiny silver lanterns. But her problem remained: how to collect the holly twigs and mistletoe sprigs she needed, and how to do it tonight. The spell she’d found in the Book was special to the Winter Solstice and required items sacred to this time of year; as tonight was Frost Moon it was now or never.

Leveret sat with the large decorations group at trestle tables in the Barn. They were all using snips to cut out shapes from thin pieces of metal, which were twisted into little lanterns to be hung on wires around the Barn. There was already a good supply from previous years but there were never enough of the tiny lanterns. Families liked having them in their cottages too as the Solstice was a festival of light. Already the great Yule Log had been selected from the orchard and seasoned, and lay in the Barn waiting for its beautiful decorations. The children in the Village School made tiny fir-cone people and animals to adorn it, along with small star wreaths of holly, ivy and mistletoe. The Yule Log was lit after the ceremony in the Stone Circle, and smouldered in the hearth in the Barn for the whole twelve days and nights of Yule. On the thirteenth day, everyone took a little of the ashes and charcoal to bury in their gardens to ensure fertility for the coming year.

A generous portion of the Yule Log ash was always taken to the orchards for the Apple Wassail in early January. Everyone in the community gathered amongst the apple trees, hung with lanterns and small pieces of bread, and toasted the trees and their spirits with a specially brewed cider, again ensuring fertility. There were many such rituals at Yuletide and they were as much a part of the peoples’ lives as eating, drinking and making love.

But this year the time-honoured traditions would be changed to accommodate the Outsiders’ Dance, as it had come to be named. The dance itself wouldn’t affect any of the normal celebrations, falling between Yule and the Apple Wassail of Twelfth Night, but nevertheless, feelings were running high. Leveret had no intention of taking part in the dance herself but she knew that most of her contemporaries could think of nothing else.

‘So what’ll happen to all these here decorations and the like?’ asked one whiskery old woman busy cutting the metal. ‘Will they all have to come down for that night?’

‘’Twould be a complete waste o’ time, that,’ grumbled her daughter. ‘I don’t understand what this thing is they’re putting up. Sound system, I heard. What’s that then? Martin said ‘twould be a shocking mess and he reckons it will shake the old place in its roots!’

‘Aye, but the young ‘uns need something special, don’t they? Now they’re going to the Outside World and making new friends and such. We need to give it a chance.’

‘What do you think, young Leveret? I reckon you’re jumping in your boots for this dance, aren’t you?’

She smiled and shook her head.

‘Oh no, not me! I don’t like that sort of thing. I can’t bear the thought of Outsiders coming into our Village and—’

‘Well, there you have ‘un! See, not even all the youngsters want this thing! Oh, our Yul’s made a mistake here and Maizie should be doing something about it.’

Leveret glanced across at her mother, sitting with another group on the other side of the Great Barn making lists of who was going to bake what for the week-long celebrations. Maizie’s cheeks were flushed and she was totally immersed in her task. She was a natural organiser and loved this kind of challenge. Leveret smiled, feeling happier than she’d been for a long time. It was so good to be getting on with her mother at last, after Maizie had said they’d put the past incidents behind them and start afresh. Leveret was trying very hard to please her by offering to help and not waiting to be asked.

She was frightened of being left alone in the cottage with Sweyn and Gefrin, who’d cornered her in the Hall one day. They’d reminded her that as far as they were concerned she hadn’t got away with it and would take her punishment from them at the earliest opportunity. She shuddered at the thought of them. Yul hadn’t been as forgiving as Maizie either. His final words, as she’d left her bedroom in his wing, were that he’d be keeping a very close eye on her and the first sign of trouble would see her back again. She got the feeling that there were other things on his mind too, and that she was bearing the brunt of his dark mood.

Leveret judged it must be around eight o’clock or so. The groups generally disbanded by ten o’clock at the latest for people rose early at Stonewylde and needed their sleep. If she were going to slip out it was now or never. She considered asking her mother if she could go and collect the things she needed. She’d much rather tell the truth if she could, for Maizie was being so kind to her at the moment and Leveret felt guilty deceiving her. But would Maizie let her go out into the night – especially the moonlit night when the magic was strong?

Her mother had a wasp in her shawl about the Moon Fullness, always going on about girls getting into trouble and boys being wild. It was true, of course – the Moon Lust still coursed through everyone’s veins as strong as ever despite girls not falling pregnant under the full moon any more. There’d be couples out there tonight in every sheltered spot honouring the moon in traditional fashion, and Maizie would never agree to her wandering out into the bright darkness, however innocent her mission. Leveret would have to deceive her.

‘I’ve got my own pair of snips at home which are much better than these,’ she said to the people sitting nearest to her in the group. ‘I’m just going to nip back and fetch them.’

‘Aren’t those any good then?’ asked one of them. ‘You can swap with me if you like, Leveret.’

‘No, it’s alright thanks – I like using my own. They’re nice and small. I won’t be long.’

Feeling very guilty and with a final glance at Maizie sitting engrossed amongst her group, Leveret got up. Grabbing her cloak from the pegs by one of the back doors, she slipped out into the night. Her heart pounded at her treachery and she almost turned back to the Barn, prepared to abandon the idea of collecting the things for casting a spell at the Solstice. But she felt compelled to continue with her plan. She’d had the Book for almost two years now and was desperate to cast. She knew Mother Heggy was watching her, waiting for contact and she had to go through with this – she had no choice.

12
 

L
everet had concealed a draw-string flaxen bag and the special gathering knife in the large inner pocket of her cloak. She’d found the knife in Mother Heggy’s cottage at the same time she discovered the Book of Shadows and it seemed ancient; Leveret suspected it was much older than the crone herself. It was compact, fitting nicely into a small female hand, with a very smoothly-worn white horn handle – probably made from deer antler. The blade was of tempered steel, engraved with strange symbols, slightly curved and very sharp. Leveret had found a worn whetting stone inside the carved box with the knife and she was careful to keep the blade sharp. It was perfectly designed for a herbalist to harvest her ingredients and necessities, and when Leveret had made her find on her thirteenth birthday she’d been happier than at any other moment in her life.

The gathering knife was very different from the third object she’d found on her birthday; a ceremonial athame, wrapped in soft linen with an outer layer of oilskin. Leveret intended to use the gathering knife to collect the materials she’d use for her spell, and to use the athame during the spell-casting ritual. She knew how special tools became linked to those who used them, especially when the purpose was sacred and magical. Using the crone’s tools would create a strong bond between her and Mother Heggy and make contact easier. It also felt right deep inside, as if she were continuing the long tradition of magic passed on from woman to woman.

Leveret took an appreciative breath of the cold night air and looked up at the blazing stars twinkling in thick clusters across the velvet sky. The great Frost Moon, its face daubed with grey shadows, had cleared the Village Green treetops and was radiating magical light, bathing all in moon-dusted quicksilver. Leveret felt a thrill of energy, soaking its radiance and feeling the magic coursing through her veins. She was not especially moongazy but who could be immune to it on such a night as this? She ran lightly over the damp grass which would later be brushed with sparkling frost, towards the orchards.

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