Shadows at Stonewylde (14 page)

‘Leveret, what are you on about?’

‘Don’t you remember it anymore? Alice in Wonderland. You read it to me long, long ago when you were still my lovely brother. I’ve read it many times since but I didn’t really understand until now.’

Yul shook his head in exasperation.

‘You’re being ridiculous but I can’t waste time on you now. I must watch all the children dance, not just my own. But I’m warning you, Leveret, I’m not happy with what I’ve been told and we’re going to have a serious talk soon. Make sure you behave yourself tonight.’

He released her and she edged away, muttering darkly to herself. She noticed an empty corner and scuttled over, curling up on the floor and hiding herself under her cloak. At last she could just close her eyes and taste all the visions that crowded in. They were sweet and salty and their colours were noisy, except for the silver feathers that sounded like a harp and smelled of soft water. Leveret wanted to stroke those with her eyes, comb them with her breath. She swallowed that thought and it tasted like birdsong, blossoming into a shimmering rainbow inside her empty stomach that filled her with luminosity.

Sylvie had slipped into one of the small side-rooms attached to the Great Barn to change into her ceremony robes. Like Yul’s they were soft and grey but hers were embroidered with black crows. Her headdress was a skullcap of blue-black feathers with long strings hanging down amongst her hair, trailing ivy leaves. There was also a mask which attached to the skullcap, made of moulded black silk with a beak that covered the upper part of her face and made her look like an Egyptian goddess. As she brushed out her flowing silver hair before donning the cap and mask, the door opened and Hazel came in.

‘Hi, Sylvie. How are you doing?’

‘Fine thanks – almost ready. Would you mind helping me with this cap? It has to be pinned securely before I attach the mask and it’s always awkward.’

‘It’s quite tricky, isn’t it? Give me the pins and I’ll do the back.’

Sylvie turned to face the mirror and watched Hazel in the reflection, frowning as she began pinning on the feathered skullcap. Sylvie liked Hazel, which was just as well for the doctor knew everything there was to know about her. Hazel looked up, her soft brown eyes meeting Sylvie’s strange grey ones in the mirror, and Sylvie grimaced.

‘You know, Hazel, you’re the one person who’s seen me in my very darkest hour. You saw things that not even Yul saw.’

Hazel smiled gently.

‘I’m a doctor, Sylvie, remember that. We’re meant to be there at the darkest hour to pick up the pieces.’

‘I even attacked you, didn’t I?’

‘Forget it, Sylvie. It was more than four years ago and you’ve made a complete recovery.’

‘Hazel … I worry about it sometimes. Will it ever come back?’

‘It was an extension of severe post-natal depression so unless you have another baby it won’t come back – and even if you did, the odds are you wouldn’t become psychotic again. It’s extremely rare and you were very unlucky to be so acutely affected. Just put it behind you, Sylvie – I thought you had.’

‘So did I. In fact I have – it’s Yul who can’t forget. He still treats me as if I may crack at any moment. He wraps me in cotton wool and smothers me with his carefulness and I can’t stand it.’

‘Do you want me to speak to him?’

‘It might help, but I think I’ve got to prove to him that I’m completely well. He’s so strong and it’s such hard work standing up to him – it’s so much easier just to let him have his way. But that’s going to stop. Have you noticed how arrogant he’s become lately? He’s growing more and more like Magus.’

Hazel looked away and busied herself pinning the cap.

‘I never had a problem with Magus, Sylvie. Not that I condone everything he did, of course, but …’

‘Sorry, I forget sometimes that not everyone was against him. He was very charming, wasn’t he?’

Hazel nodded, blushing slightly.

‘I know it’s stupid,’ she said softly, ‘because he was an evil man and I realise that now. But at the time I thought he was a god. I was as bad as Rowan and Wren and all the other girls under his spell.’

‘Not to mention my mother and even me for a little while,’ agreed Sylvie.

‘He was so … so … well, I really can’t put it into words. But when you were with him, when you had all his attention, it was the best thing in the whole world. The very best thing and nothing else mattered at all. And once you’d been with him that was all you thought about until the next time. It wasn’t just sex, although that was incredible, it was much more than that – it was
him
, his very essence. The way he looked into your soul with those velvety black eyes, I just …’

She stopped and guiltily looked up to meet Sylvie’s gaze again in the mirror.

‘Sorry, Sylvie. You must think I’m mad, still mooning about him after thirteen years like some love-sick teenager. You’re one of the very few women here who didn’t fall under his spell and yet he wanted you more than anyone else. You were so young, far too young for a man like him, but he was like someone possessed over you. It was horrible to watch – not simply out of jealousy but because it was so very wrong.’

‘It wasn’t really me he wanted. He was obsessed with my moongaziness and he wasn’t used to being turned down either. He knew it was Yul I wanted and not him, which makes Yul becoming more and more like him so ironic. Sometimes Yul looks at me and it could be Magus.’

Hazel had secured the cap and Sylvie lifted the mask to her eyes, pressing the fasteners to attach it. Hazel reached across and took over.

‘We need to put Magus firmly in the past where he belongs, along with your illness and anything else that’s bothering us,’ she said. ‘I’ll speak to Yul and I’ll do it casually so he doesn’t think you’ve primed me. Don’t let him dominate you, Sylvie. Nip that in the bud and stand up to him – you two have always been equals. Everything else is alright between you, isn’t it? I mean …’

Sylvie grinned at her, the mask covering half her face but her pretty white teeth flashing her amusement.

‘Yes, it couldn’t be better. I’d always imagined our passion would wear off a little, after we got used to each other, but it hasn’t – just looking at him makes me go weak at the knees. I only wish he wasn’t constantly busy and distracted. Some nights he doesn’t come to bed at all and I miss him so much.’

Hazel smiled wistfully.

‘You’re very lucky, Sylvie. Not many couples have that sort of relationship after thirteen years together. Enjoy it.’

‘Oh I do!’ she laughed.

The late October sun was sinking fast, gilding the woods all around the Stone Circle with a fiery glow. As the shadows lengthened inside the ancient arena, the sound of rooks from the treetops was deafening. The massive standing stones were painted with crows and skulls and in the centre sat the pyre, ready to receive the corpses. Elder branches, the tree of the crone, had been woven into a doorway that framed the entrance into the Stone Circle. This led to the white stones and red lanterns which patterned the soft earth and marked out the Labyrinth of Death. As the night of Samhain approached, the place felt dark and foreboding.

Old Violet and her sister Vetchling stood by the Altar Stone unpacking bottles from a battered leather bag, setting out cakes and wine. Both were old and whiskery and Violet especially was wizened and bent with arthritis. Their black robes were fusty and well-worn for they used them on many occasions other than Samhain. They both muttered bad-temperedly like a couple of growling cats spoiling for a fight.

‘How many do we expect this year?’ whined Vetchling, poking at the cakes with a filthy finger.

‘I told you – five tonight for the Dance of Death. Five to meet the Dark Angel. ‘Tis a good number.’

‘Aye, five is a good number. Quick, sister, ‘tis getting dark and the sun will soon be gone. We must be ready.’

‘Aye, the others will be here shortly and there’s much to be done afore the veil draws aside tonight. The invitation must be powerful.’

‘’Twill be very powerful, too powerful for him to resist. Are many coming to help in the summoning, sister?’

‘Aye, a goodly number – thirteen of us for the summoning, and the five on the sledges also. It shall be enough. He cannot refuse the invitation, nor will he want to. I’ve felt him waiting, waiting to be let in, and tonight the veil will be thinner than it’s been in many a year at Samhain for we have Dark Moon also. The Dark Magic will aid us, sister, and the Dark Angel hisself.’

Vetchling cackled at this.

‘Well said, sister. There, all is prepared and we’re ready now to cast.’

In the Great Barn Maizie paced up and down wringing her hands. Gefrin and Sweyn stood awkwardly nearby whilst Rosie tried to hold on to her two excited children and sympathise with her mother at the same time.

‘Don’t worry, Mother, she’ll be safe enough.’

‘I know, I know, but she looked so strange earlier. You know how pointed and peaky she is at the best o’ times. She were much worse tonight, and her eyes! Oh, they were enormous with great black pupils like a cat’s. I told her to sit down by the door and then she disappeared. Where on goddess’s Earth can she be?’

‘Mother, we’ve got to go outside – ‘tis almost sunset, Yul’s on the Green and everyone’s in the labyrinth ready. We’ll miss the ceremony if we don’t go now.’

‘Blast that girl! She’ll really be in trouble when I find her. If she’s with that Magpie again—’

‘No, Mother, she ain’t. I can see him out on the Green – he’s the only person not wearing a black cloak,’ said Gefrin. ‘Come on, we got to be in the labyrinth or we won’t get the Earth Magic tonight.’

They all began to troop out of the Barn and onto the Green, when Sweyn noticed the small black heap by the wall. He prodded it hard with his boot and let out a whoop of triumph.

‘Hey, Mother, don’t worry, I found her! She’s been lying here under her cloak all the time, leading us a merry dance! Look – she’s not ill at all, just asleep!’

‘Ooh, just wait till the ceremony’s over!’ said Maizie through gritted teeth. ‘She’s really for it this time, making me worry like that. Come on, we’ll leave her here. She’ll be alright for a while.’

But as they left the Barn, Sweyn looked back and saw the heap stir, disturbed by the heaviness of his boot. He waved the others on and went back into the Barn. Slowly Leveret sat up, swaying and barely able to open her eyes. Sweyn watched as she pushed herself up and, holding onto the wall, managed to stand upright. Carefully she stepped away, one foot at a time, towards the doors.

‘Not so fast!’ said Sweyn, reaching out and grabbing the hood of her robe to yank her back. ‘Not so fast, little sister. You’ve upset Mother again so it’s time for another lesson.’

Yul stood on the roof of the wicker dome in the very centre of the Village Green, resplendent in his grey and silver robes. The green and purple glass lanterns flickered their eerie light around the labyrinth as the sun sank behind the trees. It was a beautiful clear night, the sky bright blue and gold with wisps of clouds lacing the heavens. Yul stood tall and straight with his arms raised and hands open, chanting the sacred words that he’d learnt from Clip. His heart was full of love for the wonders of the Earth and the sky, for his people of Stonewylde, for the magical dance of the year as the wheel turned. He felt the Earth Magic pulsing through his body, spiralling around the Village Green, snaking through the labyrinth. His deep voice chanted, interwoven with the beat of the soft drums inside the dome beneath his feet. The Stonewylders, spread throughout the twisted coils of the labyrinth swayed and hummed, enraptured by the magic they too could feel emanating from their magus and entering their very souls.

Sylvie stood at the foot of the dome gazing up at the hundreds of birds that clustered around the Green, perching blackly on the boughs of all the great trees that surrounded the area. She thought of her dear Professor Siskin who’d loved this place more than any other. She remembered his words of wisdom; how he’d believed that the Green was the remnants of a place so ancient and magical that even now the energy lingered here. He’d believed the Green had originally been a woodland temple, a clearing in the wildwood that clothed the land in pre-history, a place where the Earth Energy had been channelled long before the Stone Circle or any of the other sacred sites at Stonewylde had been built. Sylvie could feel the old man’s presence in the circle tonight, here where his small, curled body had been discovered the morning after that Winter Solstice, frosty and stiff but with a smile on his face. She greeted his spirit and felt a rush of sadness that he hadn’t lived to see Yul become the magus, just as he’d predicted.

When the Green Man returns to Stonewylde, all will prosper
.

The Green Man had returned and she supposed all was prospering. She turned her gaze to her husband, tall and erect, his face tipped back in rapture. He was so powerful and strong, so rooted here. Why did she feel this need to challenge him? Why couldn’t she just accept his rule and bask in his adoration? She knew that he worshipped her; surely that was enough? Then he looked down at her and their eyes met. She saw the strange light glowing from within him, the green light sacred to this place, and she felt the love pouring from him, not just for her but for everything that was Stonewylde. She smiled at him, honoured that he loved her above all others. The air almost crackled with the power of their attraction and she felt herself literally drawn towards him, as if he were magnetised.