Solstice at Stonewylde (25 page)

Sylvie nodded glumly, keeping her head down to hide the nasty bruise on her forehead.

‘I saw Magus before breakfast,’ Hazel continued, ‘and all I can say, Sylvie, is I hope you feel guilty.’

Her head shot up. Was Mother Heggy’s spell working? She tried not to think of the tiny crescent of silver hair.

‘That poor man! After all he’s done for you, I don’t know how you can repay him like this. I don’t understand how it works, but you know that your moongaziness is essential to him and without it he seems to become weak. He’s been in a terrible state since the full moon and I’m really quite concerned.’

‘I’m really sorry, Hazel, but it wasn’t my fault. I—’

‘Nothing’s ever your fault, is it Sylvie? There’s always someone else to blame. Save your breath; I’m not interested in your pathetic excuses. Magus had a message for me to convey to you. He said that nothing’s changed, even though you’ve let him down so badly after promising to help him. You must continue to catch up with your school work and on no account are you to leave the Hall. He was adamant about that. He hasn’t mentioned it, but I’m assuming he still wants your eating monitored, so you’re to sit near me in the Dining Hall whilst he’s unable to join us. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, but … doesn’t he want to see me?’

She still couldn’t believe she’d get off without a lecture from Magus as well.

‘No he does not!’ Hazel’s eyes were stone cold as she stood up from her desk and glared at Sylvie. ‘He doesn’t want to see anyone and certainly not attention-seekers like you. He’s shut himself up in his rooms and just wants to be left alone. I’ve never known him like this before, and it’s all thanks to you.’

During the next few days the pressure on Sylvie became so relentless she wanted to scream. The teachers continued to hound her in every lesson; Magus had done a good job on them too, she decided. She was constantly humiliated in front of her peers, who seized their chance to join in making Sylvie the scapegoat of every class and butt of every joke.

Holly had a field day. She also used Sylvie’s lack of smart winter clothes as a weapon against her. The new clothes Magus had promised her after the Owl Moon never materialised because she hadn’t moondanced for him. She was forced to continue wearing her thin summer skirts and dresses with layers of old jumpers to keep warm, and she’d borrowed a stretched and shapeless cardigan of Miranda’s, which had longer sleeves than any of her own shrunken woollens, to cover the purple bruises on her wrists. None of last year’s winter clothes fitted now she was so much taller, and as she was restricted to the Hall she couldn’t even ask
the Village dressmakers for help. Hazel continued to watch her at meal times, although it was nowhere near as bad as the force-feeding Magus had subjected her to. Sylvie finally stopped being sick after every meal, but still found the constant monitoring hard to bear.

She dreaded the evenings up in the Tudor wing, trapped with Miranda moping in her bedroom. Her mother wouldn’t go downstairs and face anyone. She wasn’t teaching any of her classes and had trays of food sent up at meal-times, which she picked at half-heartedly. Sylvie offered to eat with her, thinking that at least she’d avoid Hazel and the Dining Hall, but Miranda refused this, wanting only to be alone. She’d grown wan and dull-eyed, crying constantly and carping at Sylvie when she wasn’t lying listlessly on her bed. Clip had called in briefly and reversed the hypnosis he’d subjected them both to, apologising for his weakness at giving in to his half-brother’s demands. He promised to call in again, but first he had to spend a few days out in the open. He said he had much thinking to do.

Sylvie’s greatest distress, however, was caused by Yul. She hadn’t seen him since the Owl Moon and still didn’t understand why she was so injured, or what had actually happened that night. She didn’t know Yul had tried to visit, but the downstairs door was bolted from the inside, rendering his new key useless. Nor did she know that on Magus’ orders, Martin had instructed the servants to inform him if Yul was seen anywhere near the grounds, and to keep watch on Sylvie to ensure she didn’t leave the Hall.

As the days passed and the swollen skin on her wrists and forearms turned to deep black bruising, she became increasingly upset. Hiding the bruises was difficult, for all her sleeves were far too short, and constantly wearing Miranda’s baggy old cardigan with its worn, stretched sleeves made her feel frumpier than ever. Her upper arms were marked too and her ribs were painful when she breathed deeply. The scraped skin down her side and on her thigh scabbed over and the lump on her forehead turned purple. She felt a wreck, her body damaged and her clothes thin and
too small. She dreaded her lessons and hated spending time anywhere near Miranda. Life seemed unbearable.

Several days later she returned to the Tudor wing, after an awful day enduring Holly’s vindictive teasing, to find Clip and her mother discussing the future. Since Clip’s kindness towards her at the last full moon when her world had been blown apart by Magus’ cruelty, Miranda had warmed slightly to the wispy, gentle man. They both looked up as Sylvie entered the room despondently, clutching the heavy pile of books and folders.

‘Come and sit down,’ said Miranda. ‘We’re talking about options for the future.’

Clip smiled at Sylvie, sensing the girl’s utter dejection. His eyes were sad and she thought he looked old and tired.

‘Cheer up,’ he said. ‘It’s not as bad as that, Sylvie.’

‘It is,’ she replied. ‘It’s worse. I’m working really hard at school but I still haven’t caught up with everything I’ve missed. It’s not my fault but nobody seems to care about that. I’m stuck at the bottom of the class, none of the teachers like me at all and I’m sick of feeling stupid.’

‘Well it may not be for much longer,’ said Miranda. She sat hunched on the sofa, her beautiful red hair lank and dull, her eyes lifeless. ‘I think it’s time we considered going back to the Outside World.’

Sylvie’s heart almost burst in her chest at this.

‘NO! Mum, no! We can’t! I don’t ever want to leave Stonewylde!’

‘Well I do. There’s nothing for me here. Magus … Magus has been very clear about his feelings for me, and how he felt about me all along. I feel a complete and utter fool. I don’t know if I can continue to live under his roof – it’s too humiliating.’

‘Mum we can’t leave! We can’t afford to, you’ve said that yourself. Where would we go? It’s impossible!’

‘I’ve promised your mother that if you really wanted to leave,’ said Clip softly, ‘then I’d help you. Remember, Sylvie, Stonewylde legally belongs to me, and although I don’t use money as such,
I do have access to a large account. I don’t want you to leave and I really hope you’ll stay, but if you insisted then of course I’d help. I’d find you somewhere to live and support you until your mother’s able to work again. Miranda’s had no salary since she came here, and anyway, I feel responsible for your plight. I’m very ashamed of the part I played in bringing you both to this awful situation. You’ve no idea how terribly guilty I feel about everything.’

‘But I don’t want to leave!’ cried Sylvie desperately. ‘Please, Clip, don’t do this.’

‘I think the decision is mine to make,’ said Miranda, ‘and I need to consider it very carefully. But I really can’t see a future here, not now I know the truth about Magus. It’s just too painful for me.’

‘But what about me?’ wailed Sylvie. ‘Don’t I have any say in the matter? It’s my life too! I won’t go, Mum. Leave if you must, but I won’t.’

‘No, Sylvie, that’s not one of our options. If we do go, then we leave together. I need to think about it. But if things are as bad here as you make out, surely you’d be better off in the Outside World? We could put Stonewylde behind us and make a fresh start – you, me and the baby.’

As Sylvie lay in bed that night listening to the wind pick up outside, she thought about her mother’s words. Maybe she was right; maybe it was time to start again. Miranda wasn’t the only one whose idyll had been shattered and Stonewylde wasn’t the paradise Sylvie had thought. She had no friends but many enemies and she couldn’t keep up with the relentless school work. She’d missed so much both since coming here and before that in London and doubted she’d ever fill in all the gaps in time for the exams. She’d fail every subject miserably and everyone would be deeply disappointed with her for letting them all down.

Magus was determined to leech her energy every month on the moon rock and, worst of all, even Yul seemed to have turned against her. If only he’d explain why he’d hurt her so badly, what
had happened that night, she might’ve been able to forgive him. But as it was, she felt let down and bewildered.

And there was worse to come. The Solstice was fast approaching and the thought of the looming conflict between Yul and Magus filled her with horror. She’d said that it was her battle too and that she wanted to help, but that was before Mother Heggy had started talking about five deaths. She’d imagined Yul somehow overcoming Magus, forcing him to leave Stonewylde, but realistically how could that ever happen? Magus’ actions at Samhain had proved he was prepared to kill his own son. Sylvie didn’t think Yul was intending to kill his own father, but how else was Magus ever going to leave? He certainly wouldn’t go voluntarily and hand Stonewylde over. Would there be some sort of accident, maybe brought on by Mother Heggy’s spell? And if so, Sylvie wondered if she could live with the guilt of knowing she’d contributed to a man’s death by stealing a lock of his childhood hair.

Sylvie wanted to help Yul, but she wanted no part of anyone’s murder. And these things happened at Stonewylde – first Alwyn and now Jackdaw. She’d heard the gossip about what’d happened that terrible night at Mooncliffe and felt partly responsible for the man’s death; if she’d been up there with Magus, none of it would’ve happened. Mother Heggy – she was the key. The cake for Alwyn, which Sylvie herself had delivered, and Magus’ lock of hair – was Mother Heggy using her to help bring about these awful deaths? Sylvie shuddered at the thought, but knew too that what the old woman had said about Magus’ plans for Yul was true. And if Magus succeeded, could she live under his dominion knowing the boy she loved had died partly because of his involvement with her? The thought of any more deaths – surely not five? – was awful. Maybe, Sylvie thought despondently in the darkness, it would be easier to leave now and let the events at Stonewylde unfold without her.

Yul stood with his back to Hare Stone and surveyed the sweep of land that filled his vision and his soul – the flanks of the
Earth Goddess. The breeze ruffled his hair, the curls long and unkempt from his lengthy trek through the hills and valleys of Stonewylde. He was dirty and hungry after roaming the land for a couple of days, but had needed to get away from everyone and set his mind free. He was living in limbo, aware of time passing. Every rotation of the Earth brought him closer to his destiny at the Solstice in three weeks’ time. He knew that his entire life had been leading to the event ahead, although he understood that the outcome was far from assured. Mother Heggy had stressed that what she’d seen at his birth was just one possibility. Nothing was fixed. In his heart he knew he was the true magus. Stonewylde called him to lead the folk and guard the land. But he also acknowledged Magus’ power and intelligence. He didn’t make the mistake of underestimating the man he now accepted was his father.

With a final gaze around the panorama of green hills and grey skies, Yul touched the great stone reverently and made to leave the magical spot where the moon spirals were so strong. He paused, suddenly remembering lying on the grass with Sylvie in the warm summer sun, gazing at the tiny pulse beating in her throat. Unbidden, another image flooded his mind. Sylvie lying curled in the belly of the Goddess, pale and still, the tiny hare of yew wood clasped in a lifeless hand. He shook his head to clear such macabre thoughts, and sent his love across the boulders and through the woodland to the Hall. He hoped she’d feel it and understand.

Yul made his way to the dolmen further along the Dragon’s Back ridgeway where he’d slept for the past couple of nights. It was dry and sheltered, if cold, in the Neolithic stone building. He’d trapped and skinned a rabbit earlier, and would now roast it over a fire. One more night out in the open, he decided, and then he’d go back to the Village. He wanted to be around during the Dark Moon next week as he hoped Sylvie would be permitted to join the other women in the Great Barn. He’d been told she was forbidden to leave the Hall, but surely Magus wouldn’t break with tradition so fundamentally. He might get the chance to see
her again on the Village Green and explain what had happened during the Owl Moon; he really hoped that she’d forgiven him for his rough treatment. He’d no idea how ugly her injuries were and would’ve been mortified if he’d known.

The smoke trickling from the open mouth of the dolmen alarmed him as he’d collected wood earlier but hadn’t lit the fire. As he approached, Yul saw Clip’s tall angular frame standing in the entrance and he almost turned around and disappeared back into the hills. But he knew he must face up to whatever waited for him, so he pressed on up the incline and joined his half-uncle by the great stones.

‘Blessings, Yul,’ said Clip. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve lit your firewood and brewed some tea. Come and join me.’

Clip was a regular visitor to the dolmen and kept a few basic necessities in the back of the cave-like structure. They sat on opposite sides of the fire in the entrance, gazing out at the view below them and sipping from chipped pottery mugs.

‘The magic is strong for me here,’ said Clip softly. ‘I always feel that the Stone Circle is the mind of Stonewylde, but this place is the heart.’