Shaman of Stonewylde (46 page)

‘ ’Tis true,’ agreed Rowan. ‘You’re bound to be in more o’ the shots in the other magazines. And Finn promised to send us some photos for your portfolio, didn’t he?’

‘Yes, and Rainbow promised I could sit for her next time she’s here and she’d do a big painting of me! When’s she coming back, I wonder?’

‘To be honest, Faun, although o’ course I want you to be a top model, I do think really your future is in acting. You’re right, my darling – you’re just too curvy and lovely to be one o’ these stick-skinny models. You’re more like a luscious and glamorous film star.’

‘But how do I get to do that?’ demanded Faun. ‘How do any film people even know I exist, stuck here in Stonewylde?’

‘We’ll have to ask Rainbow when she’s back. She said she’d return in the autumn and we’ll ask her then. I think you’d have to go to acting school or somesuch thing, and we’d maybe have to live in the Outside World.’

‘Really?’ Faun’s eyes gleamed at the thought of that. ‘Oh yes, I want to go to acting school, Mother! Never mind about this silly modelling. I’ll be a rich and famous film star instead!’

Clip sat by the fire and Shadow lay at his feet, his chin on Clip’s slightly chewed felt slipper. Leveret brought over two cups of camomile tea and sat down on the sofa. Immediately Hare sat up in the new, larger wicker basket by the wall and loped over.
At
present, she was slightly bigger than Shadow although that wouldn’t be the case for much longer. After an initial bout of nipping and kicking, order had been established and Hare had permitted the puppy to join her in the basket just so long as he remembered his manners. He adored Hare and loved to cuddle up to her at every opportunity.

The greatest love of his life, though, was Leveret. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight and had truly become her shadow. He guarded her fiercely, even initially growling at Clip when he came close. He was such a funny dog, always looking sheepish and guilty as if apologising for having survived his mill pond fate. His back legs would never be right, but Leveret had examined him carefully and could see he was in no pain at all. He was perfectly capable of walking, and his paws were enormous; he was going to be a big dog, despite being the runt. He had the usual intelligence of the Stonewylde grey sheepdogs, and combined with his mission to obey Leveret, this was quite formidable. His first meeting with Magpie had been a little fraught as each had been jealous of the other, but they’d settled down into mutual understanding and now got on fine.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to come with us to London?’ asked Clip, sipping his tea. ‘There are all sorts of things I could show you.’

‘No thanks,’ she replied. ‘I’ve always said I don’t want to leave Stonewylde, and besides, who’d look after Shadow and Hare?’

‘I’m sure Magpie would,’ he said. ‘But fair enough – it will be a busy trip anyway, so perhaps it’s best you’re not coming.’

‘Is Yul alright about you joining them?’

‘Yes,’ chuckled Clip. ‘Old habits die hard with Yul, and he almost forgot he’s turned over a new leaf. But he could see it made sense for me to come along. I’d like to see Miranda’s mother myself – as you know, all this happened because of that one dreadful act of mine. How she could’ve treated her poor daughter the way she did because of my wickedness is unbelievable. I’d like to explain to her, just to put the record straight. I also want to speak to the lawyer who’s been involved.’

‘Why? I don’t understand.’

‘Apparently he and Miranda have been corresponding by e-mail for a month or so, and she says he’s one of the very top lawyers around. Her parents would of course only hire the best. I think he’s due to retire soon, and I wanted to get his opinion on what we’re doing here at Stonewylde. My own lawyer has done everything to form the charitable trust and we’re ready now to appoint the Board of Trustees. I just wanted to get this chap of Miranda’s – or rather, her mother’s – to have a look at all the paperwork and make sure I haven’t left any loopholes. That business with Holly and Fennel coming back recently got me worrying – I don’t want any more Hallfolk coming here and thinking they’ve every right to. Once I sign Stonewylde over, it’ll no longer be my or my heirs’ property and I don’t want any of that lot thinking they can take advantage.’

‘I still don’t see why you have to talk to another lawyer.’

‘To check that it’s all in order – I’m not sure I have complete faith in the local one I’ve been using. And Leveret, there’s another reason I’m going to London with them, but you must promise me you’ll tell nobody because I really don’t want any fuss.’

‘Yes of course I promise. What is it?’

‘You know these silly stomach aches I’ve been getting for a while? I’m going to have it checked out before I leave. I’ve got an appointment with somebody good in London.’

‘Oh Clip! I’m so pleased! I’ve been really worried about you.’

‘I know. I don’t want to go to Hazel and I don’t want a fuss. I’ve been trying to ignore the pains and I think it’s something like irritable bowel or just severe wind. I do hope it’s not gallstones or anything like that. I was thinking that there’s no point me going to the Amazon or the Outback and just as I’m about to go into trance with the local Shaman, doubling up in agony. But don’t tell anyone, will you?’

‘Of course I won’t. So you’re all going up there by train?’

‘That’s right, Yul, Sylvie and the girls, Miranda and Rufus and me. I’m actually quite looking forward to it. Apparently this
lawyer
has booked us all into a suite in a very posh hotel in Kensington, with no expense spared. I gather Miranda’s parents were very wealthy, which makes the financial struggles she had to face even more appalling.’

‘I’ll miss you, Clip,’ said Leveret, stroking Hare. ‘But I suppose I’d better get used to it.’

‘It’s only for two nights – we’ll be back before you know it. But yes, when we do get back I’m only here for another couple of weeks and then I’m off.’

‘I can’t bear the thought of it! But what about your stomach?’

‘I’ll have the diagnosis very quickly – that’s one of the reasons I’ve chosen this particular consultant. If any treatment is needed, I can arrange for that en route to my exciting destination, wherever that may be.’

Leveret sighed heavily, and Shadow cocked his ears and looked up at her. He was her one consolation and she knew that when Clip had gone, Shadow would help ease her loneliness. Clip got up and disappeared downstairs into his room for a minute, to return carrying his black feather cloak. Shadow growled at it and got up for a suspicious sniff.

‘I’d like to give you my raven cloak, Leveret,’ he said. ‘It seems especially fitting that you should have it, given your spirit guide.’

‘Oh Clip!’ said Leveret, touched beyond words. ‘I feel so honoured! Thank you.’

She reached across and stroked the cloak, which was made of very fine black wool with hundreds of black feathers sewn on. She had no idea where it had come from for Clip had worn it for as long as she could remember.

‘I can’t think of anyone else who’d put it to as good use as you,’ he said, ‘except maybe Martin. And I really don’t want him to have it.’

‘No!’ agreed Leveret, imagining how very sinister Martin would look in it. ‘Martin’s been really making me feel uncomfortable lately.’

‘Has he? In what way?’

‘It’s the way he looks at me – as if he’d like to do me real harm. I find him quite frightening.’

Clip nodded.

‘He’s a strange man and I think he’s becoming stranger. When Vetchling died I thought he’d move his mother into his cottage, but instead he sends his poor wife down there every single day. I thought the other day how worn out she looks.’

‘It can’t be easy being married to him either, can it? He’s such a miserable person and lately he looks almost unhinged. Should we speak to my mother or Hazel about it? Perhaps his wife needs some help to care for Old Violet.’

Clip agreed with this, and hung the black cloak on a peg on the wall.

‘Maybe you’d like to wear it when you next journey?’ he said. ‘It really is a very magical cloak, and it’s taken me to other realms many a time.’

‘I will, and you’ll be with me in spirit if not in person. I’ll keep Shadow well away from it too – he looks just a little too interested in all those feathers, doesn’t he?’

Martin stood in the shadowy hall watching all the fuss created by the seven people preparing to leave and catch a train. They were oblivious of him, too wrapped up in their own worries about cases and clothes, tickets and toys. His eyes narrowed as he watched them, especially Clip, his cuckoo brother, the one who’d ousted him from his rightful place as their father Basil’s heir. His mother had assured him that the owner of Stonewylde had taken her virginity before he’d taken Raven’s. Nobody knew for sure exactly when Clip had been born; Raven and Old Heggy had hidden him away in the hovel for a while before his existence had been discovered. But Violet was adamant that Martin had come first and as eldest son, should have been the heir.

He couldn’t wait until Samhain when Clip was leaving. Martin had all sorts of plans afoot, all types of contingencies covered, and was waiting to herald a new dawn for Stonewylde. He was determined to stop the rot and decay that had been rife since
the
murder of Magus all those years ago. Proper leadership was required, and a return to the old ways.

The seven despised people left and, later on, Martin went upstairs to check on his master’s rooms. As he entered through the heavy door, he too was met with a presence, but unlike Sylvie, he greeted it warmly. The rooms were clean and polished and he’d had his goodwife place a bowl of flowers on the table. He checked the bathrooms were in order and the master bedroom made up with fresh linen. All was as it should be, the terrible mess made by that group of Outsiders brought in by Holly and Fennel now eradicated.

He returned through the connecting chambers to the sitting room, and as he passed by he caught a glimpse of silvery blond hair in the great mirror. He too could smell that distinctive aroma of Magus’ scent and he paused for a moment to savour it. The scar on his temple throbbed; in a sudden explosion of fury he recalled that Winter Solstice when Clip had tricked him and had cracked him on the head with his Shaman’s staff. Martin had vowed to burn the staff and stuff the ashes down Clip’s throat; that desire was still there. He remembered Sylvie sitting in here in her scarlet cloak waiting to be rescued, whilst his poor master was lured to Quarrycleave and the serpent waiting for him at Snake Stone. So much treachery and betrayal! As for Harold, daring to lock him in here as he bled from his wound . . . with another throb of hatred, Martin vowed that Harold too would meet his just end, along with all the others.

He hurried out of the rooms and downstairs, to pull on his coat and briskly make his way to see his mother. Samhain was fast approaching, the anniversary of when the summons had been made to the Otherworld. A year had almost passed since the veil had been rent aside and his master recalled from that shadowy place. Martin knew the lore that once a shade had been in this realm for a year and a day, it could not return to the Otherworld. It would once more take flesh, and he was ready to offer himself as host. Then the glorious days would begin again and the vermin would be cast out of the granary. He had made
a
list and was looking forward to working his way through it.

He entered Old Violet’s cottage and found his mother dozing in her rocking chair, the fire crackling and a blanket tucked around her knees. He could smell the rabbit stew – all she cared to eat nowadays – keeping warm on the range. He wondered how she managed to dish it up herself and carry it to her chair in the evenings, for she was crippled and bent with arthritis. Mallow was here until early afternoon every day, but then returned to continue her duties in their own cottage. He decided to start sending her back down here every evening to serve his mother’s supper and put her to bed. The nights were drawing in and he wanted her warm and safe. The extra walk all the way back down to the Village every evening during winter would upset Mallow no end as she was always complaining how tired she was. Martin smiled cruelly at this; he’d work her to the bone and it would serve her right, stupid, lazy chit that she was. Plenty more where she came from too, especially once the master was back for good.

‘Your time is almost come,’ Old Violet wheezed, watching the expressions flitting across her son’s face. The firelight flickered and, as he turned to her, she could almost swear it was Basil himself. Silly fool he’d been – she’d soon dealt with him, once his brother Elm had been shown the moongazy delights he was missing. That Raven had met her match there, for Elm was a nasty piece o’ work, right enough; Violet chuckled to herself. She’d never been one to let folk get in her way, although Heggy had outwitted her at every turn. But no matter – now she could help her son finally take his rightful place at Stonewylde. Samhain was the time, and ’twas fast approaching.

‘When ’tis a mite closer, I must to do some baking,’ she said. ‘There’s no dear sister nor feckless Starling to help no more, and I’ll not have that mouse-wife squealing in my ear. You can help me, my boy. ’Twill be fitting and proper for you to help your old mother, the Wise Woman o’ Stonewylde, bake the cakes for Samhain and the Dark Angel.’

Martin thoroughly enjoyed the following three days. Those whom he despised most were all away from Stonewylde together, for the first time ever. He would have liked to savour the experience more, but there was much to be done for the next phase of his plan. All too soon the driver who’d gone to collect them from the station returned, the large vehicle drawing up outside the porch. There was confusion and chaos as they tumbled out with their luggage and made their noisy entrance into the hall. Martin explained what he wanted and ushered the seven folk, all tired and bedraggled from London, up the great staircase towards Yul and Sylvie’s apartments. He was very excited, twitching with nervous energy, and wouldn’t brook any refusal.

‘ ’Tis a special surprise I arranged!’ was all he’d say, and nobody liked to disappoint him.