Magus of Stonewylde Book One (46 page)

He was silent for a while, clearly feeling contented and at ease. Sylvie prayed that he wouldn’t ask further questions.

‘So why are you up so late? Where’s Miranda?’

‘At home, I expect.’

‘Is she?’ Then his voice changed suddenly, taking on a hard note. ‘Sylvie …’

‘Yes, I’ve been with Yul,’ she said quietly. ‘I brought him back from the quarry.’

He stopped dead and grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him. In the dim light, she saw his eyes glitter.

‘
You did what?
’

She gulped. His hand was like a vice on her arm, digging into the bones.

‘You said he could come back for the Solstice! You said the only reason he wasn’t coming home was because you were too busy to fetch him. You said if I could drive I could collect him myself! So I walked there and I brought him back. You said it was alright, Magus! He’d taken his punishment. He’d done his two weeks’ labour.’

He relaxed his grip slightly and glared down at her. In the silence of the night she heard his breathing as he struggled to control his fury.

‘I can’t believe you did that! How dare you take matters into your hands! It wasn’t your place to decide when he’d had enough.’

‘But you said—’

‘I know what I said. But you should
never
have done that. Where is he now?’

‘In the Village. But Magus, it wasn’t his fault! I told him you said it was alright. I had a hard job persuading him to come with me. He was so worried about disobeying you.’

‘And so he bloody well should’ve been worried! How
dare
he come back without my permission?’

‘He thought he did have your permission. Please don’t be angry with him.’ Her voice was thin with fear. ‘It was all my doing. I had to fight to make him come back and it’s me you should be angry with. If you’re going to punish anyone, please punish me and not him.’

She felt the lessening of tension as he slowly calmed down. Then he sighed and released her arm. He began walking again and she tentatively fell into step beside him.

‘You’re brave; I’ll give you that, Sylvie. You knew I’d be furious, didn’t you?’

She nodded, glancing up at his strong profile.

‘I’m sorry. I just couldn’t stand him – or any Stonewylder – suffering alone up there and missing the festival.
Please
don’t take it out on him. He said he never intended to disobey you again.’

He laughed at that.

‘I should think not, after what he’s been through. So it’s you I should punish, is it? What a shame, when it’s your birthday tomorrow and I’ve already bought you a lovely present.’

‘Have you? I thought you didn’t give presents at Stonewylde.’

‘We don’t. But this is something special – a dress for you to wear tomorrow at the evening celebration. A moongazy dress for a moongazy girl. You’ll be fifteen tomorrow and you’re turning into a beauty, Sylvie. You’ll sparkle in the dress I’ve chosen for you.’

‘It’s very kind of you. Thank you, Magus. And I’m sorry for making you angry.’

They’d reached the small path that led to Woodland Cottage. Magus stopped, taking both her hands in his and gazing down at her.

‘Don’t ever defy me like that again, Sylvie. I’ll forgive you this time but don’t think you’ll get away with it in future.’

‘And you won’t punish Yul for coming back?’

‘Not if he keeps out of my way and doesn’t cross me again. And not if you promise to have nothing more to do with him. No secret meetings, no clandestine assignations. You know it’s against our principles here, relationships between Villagers and Hallfolk. Everyone else keeps to the rules and so must you. Is that a deal?’

‘Alright,’ she said quietly. ‘But you must leave him alone.’

‘Agreed. And now you’d better get to bed. See how light the sky is? I love the Solstice! You’ll see how magical it is at the sunrise ceremony. Come here, Sylvie.’

He pulled her closer.

‘What?’

‘A goodnight kiss. A birthday kiss for your magus. Remember it’s my birthday tomorrow too.’

Still holding her hands, he bent and brushed her lips with his, lingering for a second. She shuddered, and thought suddenly of the kisses she’d shared with Yul less than an hour ago.

‘There’s something different about you tonight, Sylvie,’ said Magus, peering at her in the silvery darkness. ‘Your energy’s altered. You’re changed somehow.’

‘It must be the Solstice magic,’ she replied quickly and extricated herself, backing away from him. ‘Goodnight, Magus! See you in the morning.’

The sound of birdsong from the oak woods around the Circle was overwhelming, filling the air with a joyful dawn chorus. Many people were arriving; dozens of children came up the Long Walk with their parents, everyone whispering in hushed tones. Yul had no trouble mixing in with a group and arriving in the Circle amongst them. In the pearly-grey twilight everyone seemed cold and half asleep, for it was so very early. He made his way over to the enormous unlit bonfire; it was the woodsmen’s job to light and supervise the fire and he knew he’d find them all there.

Old Greenbough’s craggy face lit up when he saw Yul. The tough old man hugged him brusquely in a completely uncharacteristic gesture of affection.

‘Eh, am I glad to see you back, young Yul!’ he whispered hoarsely. ‘I been worrying and worrying about you. Are you alright, lad?’

‘I’m fine thank you, sir,’ grinned Yul, delighted at the warm welcome. Many of the men greeted him quietly but with gladness, and he tried to avoid the painful back slapping. After the harsh indifference of Jackdaw and the men at the quarry it felt good to be amongst friends again.

‘You turned up at just the right moment, Yul, because we got a problem on our hands. We must light the Solstice Fire soon but there’s no one right to do it. We’re all too heavy or too old, so ‘tis your job this year, boy.’

Yul’s heart leapt at this. ‘But, sir, I—’

‘I was going to ask you all along but then I thought you’d not be here. Thank the stars you’re back! You must be the Herald of the Dawn, Yul, and I can’t think of anyone better to do it. Here, put the sun robe on quick – there ain’t much time.’

The heavy golden robe, embroidered with pure gold thread and countless shiny sun symbols, was pulled on over his tunic. The high stiff collar fanned up at the back and framed his dark head. The long robe fitted perfectly.

‘See, here in this pocket is the lighter,’ said Greenbough very softly, as the Circle was in near silence awaiting the sun rise. ‘Climb up through the centre of the fire and wait on the platform with the lighter ready. Keep your eyes fixed on the horizon, lad. You’ll be the first one to see the sun appear. That instant you must light the torch. You know the words to say? You know what you must do with the torch?’

Yul nodded, his heart beating fast at the thought of the task ahead. He’d be the key figure in opening the ceremony. He’d watched and taken part in this ritual for as long as he could remember and knew every stage of it inside out. But he’d never
dared hope that he’d be chosen as Herald of the Dawn. It was the ultimate honour.

‘Right, then. Just check the lighter … good. Up you go, lad. Goddess be with you!’

Yul squeezed through the gap in the branches that formed the frame of the fire, and found the hollow centre. A roughly-made wooden ladder stood there, which would burn when the fire caught hold. It was strange inside the great bonfire; being enclosed in a wooden cage and knowing there were hundreds of people outside waiting in silence. Yul felt a stab of panic. What if he missed the sun rise?

He quickly began to climb the wooden rungs but his foot caught in the robe and he slipped. His heart pounded and his hands shook; he made himself calm down and started to climb steadily. He reached the top and stepped carefully through the narrow opening onto the small platform, just large enough for one person. He looked over the towering stones towards the north-east where the sky was salmon pink. No sun yet.

Yul breathed a sigh of relief and then checked; here was the torch, secure in its bracket. The brazier was stuffed full of bark and lichen that would catch quickly, and he could see the thin dry branches leading from the brazier into the main part of the fire. All was as it should be. He took the lighter from his pocket and gripped it firmly, ready for the moment.

He then glanced down and gulped at the sight below him. There were hundreds and hundreds of people packed into the Circle and spilling out beyond, and every face was upturned and looking at him. Every man, woman and child at Stonewylde came to this ceremony and there were many extra Hallfolk who’d returned especially for this, the most popular festival of the eight.

The horizontal Altar Stone lay right across the Circle and Magus stood behind it, wearing a grand gold robe similar to his own. His arms were upraised and he faced away from the bonfire. He was chanting softly and then the drums started, at first a gentle rhythm but slowly building in intensity. Yul looked again at the dawn horizon. It was even brighter, the sky blooming into
a glorious mess of gold and coral pink against a backdrop of pure pale blue.

Down on the ground, Sylvie had gasped when she’d seen a dark, curly head emerge from the top of the fire. Surely it couldn’t be Yul? It was hard to make him out clearly. Although the sky was increasingly light now, the Circle was still shadowy and he was high up and facing the horizon. But the straight, proud back and tilt of his head told her it must be him. This was the Yul of old, not the miserable, cowering figure she’d rescued from the quarry.

She saw him reach out; there was a tiny spark and then a flare of flame as the torch caught hold. The mass of people stood silently and expectantly, waiting for the Herald of the Dawn to make his announcement. At that moment there was a sudden flurry of black feathers above and a great crow landed on Yul’s shoulder. The drums almost missed their beat. A collective gasp escaped from the crowd at the unexpected sight of the crow now perched on the golden figure so high up above them.

‘The sun has risen! The sacred flame is lit! Folk of Stonewylde, rejoice!’

Yul’s voice was resonant and strong, echoing around the space inside the Circle. He took the torch and brandished it aloft, his golden robe catching the glint of firelight. Then he plunged it into the brazier and there was a rush of light, a sizzling of blue and green fire. The crowd chanted in unison.

‘The Solstice Fire is lit! The sun joins in sacred union with Mother Earth! Bright Blessings to all!’

The flames in the brazier burned voraciously as the drumming grew faster and louder. Then orange flames appeared, licking around the coloured ones and forming a crown of gold on the great pyramid of wood. Holding the torch upright, the golden figure started to descend through the centre of the fire. The crow flapped off and flew across to perch on one of the standing stones.

Inside the fire Yul was having trouble getting out. Under normal circumstances he’d have practised the tricky manoeuvre
wearing the long robes. As it was he almost fell and dropped the torch before working out a way to balance it and hold on, while climbing down in the restricting robes. As the flames crackled above him he shook with excitement. The sensation as he’d stood there, so high up, and called across the Circle with all the folk of Stonewylde listening and watching, had been out of this world. He’d loved leading the ceremony, knowing everyone was focused on him. The unforeseen presence of the crow had made it even more spectacular.

Yul reached the ground and squeezed through the channel in the wood, trying to keep the flickering flames of the torch away from his robes and hair. The smell of burning wood surrounded him, as smoke penetrated down through the bonfire from the unseen flames high above. He could see Greenbough beckoning, showing him the way out of the huge structure, waiting to set fire to the base the minute he was out.

Suddenly Yul was free and safe in the open air. He lifted the flaming torch high and began to move towards the Altar Stone. There was a clear path before him. Magus had climbed onto the stone and now chanted with the throbbing drums, his arms upraised. He faced the beautifully painted Summer Stone, the one aligned to this special sunrise. The sun, although risen over the horizon, had yet to penetrate the Stone Circle and it was still shadowy inside. As Yul walked steadily across the diameter of the circle the crow flew down and settled once more on his shoulder. He smiled; Mother Heggy was here in spirit if not in body, and she’d found a way to ensure that all knew of her presence.

Sylvie held her breath as Yul crossed the circle. The sky was now rosy and bright and the Solstice Fire blazed fiercely. She could see Magus clearly as he stood on the Altar Stone. He was an impressive figure; tall and strong, his pale-blond hair gleaming in the pink light, his handsome face solemn as his deep voice wove in and out of the drums. His robe was beautiful, shot with gold thread and glimmering with hundreds of tiny golden beads and mirrors. Like Yul’s, it had a high winged collar that framed his face.

Sylvie watched the great man as Yul passed her and headed for the stone. Magus turned and tilted his head down to watch the figure moving towards him. She saw his eyes widen as he realised who it was bearing the sacred flame of the Solstice Fire. He stared transfixed at the approaching Herald of the Dawn; the boy whom he’d intended to keep safely out of the way at Quarrycleave, the boy who must never cross him again. The boy he thought he’d broken.