Solstice at Stonewylde (11 page)

‘You’re not saying that Yul is actually going to kill Magus?’ asked Sylvie, shaken at the thought. ‘Surely that isn’t right? I mean … well, I don’t know if Yul would do that, or even if he
could
do it.’

Mother Heggy shrugged, peering myopically at a jar of bramble jelly she’d unpacked from the basket.

‘I don’t know how ‘twill happen,’ she said finally. ‘I only see so much. The old prophecy came to me like a thunderbolt when the boy were born, and ‘twere clear enough. Yul is the fruit of his passion for sure, the child conceived under the blue moon and born under the red moon. In the brightness at the darkness – that’s the full moon at the Winter Solstice, the darkest day. So ‘twill be this Solstice, when Yul becomes a man.’

‘How do you know it’ll happen this Solstice?’ asked Sylvie, still unsure quite how the lunar cycle and festivals fitted with each other. ‘Is is always the full moon at the Winter Solstice?’

‘No, ‘tis rare for both to fall together at the same time, but this year ‘tis the Moon Fullness on the eve of the Solstice. It don’t happen very often like that and ‘tis right it should be this year, when Yul reaches sixteen. Life is full o’ these things happening all together in strange ways that don’t seem possible.’

‘Like a pattern you mean?’

‘Aye, exactly like a pattern. Yul will rise up with the folk behind,
and aren’t they all gathering behind him now? At the place of bones and death – we know where that is, right enough. ‘Tis six weeks to the Solstice. But Sylvie,’ she gripped the girl’s arm with her claws, peering almost sightlessly into her eyes, ‘there may be a prophecy from long ago but … Yul will rise up, without a doubt, but that don’t mean he’ll be sure to succeed, nor even survive. For I seen something else of late, but ‘tis not clear.’

‘Something else? What sort of thing?’ asked Sylvie, wondering if it was to do with Magus’ dreadful plans for her every month.

‘There may be more than one death this Solstice,’ muttered Heggy, her rheumy eyes gazing blankly. ‘I see the number five, always five. But ‘tis too many! Not five deaths, surely? I cannot see who must die, but I know one thing for sure. You and Yul are in great danger from Sol. Do you understand, girl? The magus is evil and Yul would’ve died at Samhain but for my Raven. I summoned her back through the veil to aid him and ‘twas down to her that the boy survived. Has he told you my girl was there in the Circle with him that night?’

‘No,’ replied Sylvie with a shudder. ‘He’s hardly spoken about it, though he has terrible nightmares every night he says.’

‘Aye, the Death Dance will haunt him for some time to come, poor boy, and maybe for the rest of his days. Well, you must listen to old Mother Heggy, my silver one, and do as I say. The prophecy may yet go unfulfilled and that’s what Sol will hope for. He’ll do everything in his power to stop it coming about as I foretold, and if he can get past the Winter Solstice, he’ll be safe. The prophecy will lose its magic once the Solstice is passed and then Goddess help us all. We only have one chance and we must fight him, we who stand against him. Are you with us?’

Sylvie nodded, her eyes wide with apprehension.

‘I love Yul. I’d do anything to stop Magus from hurting him.’

Mother Heggy pursed her lips at this and patted Sylvie’s smooth hand with her withered one.

‘Much will be asked of you, my bright one, almost too much. You must be brave and strong. ‘Twill be a cage of sorrow for you, a cage that binds the silver nightingale with bars of gold. You’ll
see, you’ll recall my words when you’re captive. And the first task, the first thing you must do, is this: bring me something of Magus – hair or nail. I need something of his body for my spell.’

Sylvie looked sceptical but Mother Heggy was unperturbed.

‘You don’t believe but ’tis of no matter. Just bring me something and you must, without fail, bring it tomorrow. ‘Tis the Dark Moon and the spell must be cast tomorrow night, when the banishing is at its most powerful.’

‘I won’t be part of murdering anyone,’ said Sylvie a little shakily. ‘I love Yul and I want to help, but—’

‘You’re as much a part o’ this as Yul or me or Sol or anyone at Stonewylde,’ snapped Mother Heggy tetchily. ‘You were part of it from the moment you were conceived in the woodland under the red Harvest Moon, so don’t go soft now you’re needed! You ask your mother – she knows right enough ‘twas no ordinary conception.’

‘I’m sorry, Mother Heggy,’ said Sylvie, her mouth trembling. She still felt fragile and so frightened. ‘It’s just the thought of causing someone’s death …’

Mother Heggy regarded her with a toothless grimace.

‘Nobody said ‘twould be an easy path to follow, but if you love the boy you must do what has to be done. Now, we have two more weeks till the next Moon Fullness and we cannot let Magus feed on your moon magic again.’

Sylvie closed her eyes wearily, sick of the whole thing. Stonewylde had seemed like heaven on earth when they’d arrived here but now it was just a battleground.

‘Aye, ‘tis that,’ said Mother Heggy, with her uncanny knack of reading thoughts. She pulled her filthy shawl closer around her bony shoulders and cocked her wizened head at Sylvie. ‘And who do you want to win – Sol or Yul? Father or son? If you fail to get me what I need for my spell tomorrow, then the boy may well die at his father’s hand this Solstice. The very spirit of Stonewylde will be broken, I can promise you that. And your life will be a misery o’ pain.’

Sylvie stumbled back up the track to the Hall as the early November darkness closed in around her. The fallen leaves made a soggy carpet on the ground and several times she skidded and slipped, for she was always clumsy at this time of the month. Rooks cawed noisily around her, their voices raucous and abrasive. It was cold and damp and she was scared. How was she going to find Magus’ hair or nail clippings? He was still away, but it might’ve been easier if he were around. She’d have to look in his rooms, and although she knew where they were of course, she’d never been anywhere near them before.

She was terrified at the thought of what she must do, and even more scared of Mother Heggy’s talk of death. She still hoped that this terrible struggle between Yul and Magus could somehow be resolved peacefully. It was all very well believing in an old prophecy that spoke of rising up and overthrowing, but now that the reality of just how this was to be achieved was looming closer, Sylvie was very frightened. Magus had already proved that he had no qualms about resorting to violence, but she wanted none of it and was sure Yul didn’t either. And as for Mother Heggy’s remarks about five deaths … Sylvie shuddered at the thought, and opening the garden door to their wing, climbed the dark stairs to her bedroom, grateful as ever to have a private entrance.

Miranda looked up from her knitting as her daughter entered their small sitting room, rosy-cheeked from her walk. Miranda sighed, rubbing her swollen belly. The baby was very active today and had had the hiccups this afternoon, which had been extremely uncomfortable. She was sure the baby was a boy and imagined him as a tiny Magus, complete with silvery-blond hair and brown eyes like dark chocolate. She was missing Magus and longed for his return; he’d be pleased with the way she was handling Sylvie. Her daughter was responding to the new, strict regime and had really knuckled down, eating properly and making progress with her schoolwork in the evenings.

‘Why are you back so late?’ Miranda asked sharply, anxious to keep Sylvie firmly in line. ‘It’s dark outside and you’ve been gone for ages.’

‘I’m sorry, Mum – I lost track of the time.’

‘Well don’t do it again, Sylvie. You won’t be allowed out at all if you can’t manage your time and come home this late. Go and get on with some schoolwork before supper.’

Sylvie shrugged and went back into her bedroom, closing the door on Miranda and her huge bulge. She’d never thought they’d be like this, having always been so close. She’d lost her loving, friendly, funny mother and it made her so sad. Everyone was against her, not only her mother, but the teachers, her tutor, the doctor and all the other Hallfolk. Everyone was on her back, sniping and criticising, and now she had this request to worry about. Would Yul really die if she didn’t help with Mother Heggy’s spell? Sylvie couldn’t quite believe it but didn’t dare risk not doing her bidding just in case the old woman was right.

Sylvie sat with Miranda in the dining room, picking at her meal and far too nervous tonight to enjoy the food. Since her mother had started watching every mouthful she swallowed, eating had lost all pleasure anyway. They were surrounded by other Hallfolk, all talking and laughing together at the long tables whilst the servants scurried about, refilling plates and glasses and ensuring the Hallfolk had everything they needed. During the meal Sylvie felt Holly and her gang, a few tables down, staring at her and whispering. Holly had gathered quite a crowd over the past few months; Rainbow and the younger Hallfolk she’d teamed up with during the summer term were now joined by her original gang, including July, Wren, Fennel and some of the older boys. They were a large and noisy group and Sylvie felt uncomfortable knowing they were talking about her and glowering her way. Holly was very open about it. Her dark eyes held contempt and undisguised scorn as she glared insolently at Sylvie. Her pretty face twisted into an expression of malice whenever she caught Sylvie’s eye, and she flicked back her thick, shoulder-length hair in a gesture of challenge. Sylvie sensed that Holly was building up to a major confrontation, and dreaded it. She knew how Holly had decided to make a play for Yul at the Autumn Equinox, and
how he’d brushed her off. Sylvie now wondered if Holly had somehow found out about her and Yul’s relationship, which would explain this increase in hostility.

Sylvie kept her eyes down and tried to avoid any kind of nonverbal contact with anyone on Holly’s table. She had far more important things to worry about tonight. As the pudding was served, Sylvie sensed a good opportunity to visit Magus’ rooms. All the Hallfolk were in the Dining Hall and would be for some time as coffee was also served in here, and the servants were busy with the meal and clearing away.

‘Would you excuse me please, Mum? I don’t want any pudding and I have to do some research for my coursework. I’ll see you later.’

‘Have some pudding first, Sylvie.’

‘Honestly, Mum, I’ve had enough. You know I’ve put on weight and Hazel’s happy with my progress. And you know I don’t like lemon meringue pie very much.’

‘Have cheese and biscuits and some fruit then,’ said Miranda with a frown.

‘Please, Mum, I’m really full and I’ve eaten loads. I need to do this research tonight and I don’t want to be too late to bed as Hazel said I must get plenty of sleep.’

‘Alright then, but where are you going – library or computer room?’

Sylvie thought quickly.

‘I don’t know yet, it depends which is quieter and what resources I need. Probably both.’

By giving two locations she’d buy herself a little more time should Miranda or anyone come looking for her.

‘Okay, Sylvie, see you later. Make sure you work hard and don’t be late for bed.’

Sylvie left the great Dining Hall and had no choice but to walk down alongside the table where Holly sat. She steeled herself to pass the large group, feeling her cheeks burn as everyone stopped talking and turned to stare at her in hostile silence. It was as intimidating as if they’d insulted her. She nearly bumped into
Martin in her headlong determination to get to the double doors without tripping over or embarrassing herself. He stood deferentially to one side to let her pass, holding a door open for her and watching as she hurried down the corridor out of this wing.

Sylvie sped across the stone-flagged entrance hall with its enormous antique ginger jars full of beautiful bronze-red chrysanthemums. She almost skidded into the great dinner gong and grabbed the carved newel post of the staircase. Swinging round it, Sylvie dashed up the first flight of stairs, wide enough for several people standing abreast. Huge paintings, banners and shields hung on the grand walls, so very high here, and at the half-landing, facing the gigantic stained glass window, Sylvie paused to catch her breath. She despised her lack of strength and tried to steady herself and calm her drumming heart, which she knew pounded as much from terror as lack of stamina.

Then she climbed the second half-flight of stairs and reached the first-floor landing. A wide oak-panelled corridor ran all along this main block of the Tudor mansion. This was where Magus had his apartments, in the centre of the south-facing front of the Hall, occupying the position of dominance over the vast stately home. Sylvie had looked up at these chambers many a time as she walked up the tree-lined drive, for the long series of windows were directly over the huge entrance porch.

She stood now at the top of the main staircase and looked up and down the corridor stretching darkly away to either side. There were many other rooms further on which she knew nothing about, but she did know the enormous oak door under the stone arch before her led into Magus’ apartments. Despite all the Hallfolk downstairs finishing dinner in the Dining Hall and the many servants dashing about to serve them, it was very quiet up here. The carpet along the corridor was thick and the wood solid, and but for a distant hum from downstairs, Sylvie almost felt as if she were alone in the building.

Her heart was once again pounding and her hands trembled. She also had the dull nagging ache that told of her imminent period, and her head throbbed. She took a deep breath and
approached the heavy door ahead. She was terrified but thought of Yul, telling herself this was to help save his precious life and she must be brave. She opened the door and stepped in quickly, shutting it silently behind her. Now she was safely inside, Sylvie knew she wouldn’t be disturbed – nobody would come in here with Magus away.