Solstice at Stonewylde (47 page)

‘Yes, the usual. Silk cushions, candles, champagne … you know what’s required.’

The stony-faced man nodded and gave a small smile.

‘I know what’s required. And if I might say so sir – about time too.’

When he’d gone, Magus turned to Sylvie. The blood had drained from her face and he chuckled.

‘I see you understood that.’

She nodded, unable to believe what he was planning for her.

‘I simply can’t wait any longer, Sylvie,’ he said. ‘I’m burning up for you – it’s like a fire inside me and it hurts. I’ve heard my father was the same with my mother and I guess it’s the moongaziness. You just don’t understand the effect you have on me.’

She sat very still, her heart thumping with fear. What if everything went wrong tonight? She had faith in Yul but things had gone wrong before. And she remembered Magus’ phone call – he had help coming soon which would give him such an advantage. What if they overpowered Yul? She’d be weak from the moongazing, unable to fight Magus off, and he was so much bigger and stronger than her anyway. She’d never be able to stop him. Sylvie started to cry softly, the tears rolling down her cheeks and smudging her make-up.

‘Don’t cry, my darling. I’ll be so gentle, I promise. I love you, Sylvie, and after tonight, you’ll love me too. I can guarantee that.’

‘How can you do this to me if you love me?’ she choked,
wiping the tears away impatiently. ‘I don’t want you and I’m too young – I’m not ready for this. There are so many others here and you can have anyone you want at Stonewylde.’

‘But I don’t want anyone else. It’s
you
I crave. You’re the only one who can feed the stones and give me the moon magic I need, and you’re the only one I want to make love to. You’re so beautiful and spirited and there’s something so magical about you … nobody else will do when I can get everything I want and need from you. I won’t wait another six months, Sylvie. I thought I could but I can’t.’

He pulled out his handkerchief and gently wiped away her tears and mascara. He smiled at her ruefully.

‘I’ve certainly never had this reaction before, when I tell a girl she’s been chosen for the Moon Fullness! Please don’t cry, Sylvie – you’ll learn to love me, I promise. Let me get you some mead to help you relax.’

She groaned as he went over to the cabinet and found her crystal goblet. Still clutching the book, she gazed at the garden through the diamond paned glass, like a bird imprisoned in a cage. Here she sat, passive and confined, awaiting her fate. Sylvie hated being the victim and wanted more than anything to take control of her own life and destiny. She knew the whole community was busy preparing for the Solstice and that Yul would be preparing to implement his plan for her rescue. Everyone knew what was going on except for her. She was completely in the dark, unable to do anything to help herself, yet what happened tonight would determine the rest of her life.

If Yul failed, she’d never escape Magus’ clutches. He’d keep her prisoner, starved into submission whenever he felt like it, every detail of her life controlled. He’d shower her with gifts, dress her in expensive clothes and jewels, parade her as a prized possession, but he’d never allow her any freedom. He’d dominate her every minute, binding her with his love and his hatred. For despite his protestations of love, Sylvie knew he hated her for her coldness towards him. She’d slowly wither under his obsessive captivity, like a wild bird trapped in a gilded cage.

Magus returned with her mead, moving across the floor like a great panther. She looked up into his face, so attractive with those strong features and dark eyes, his silvery-blond hair emphasising the perfection of his chiselled cheekbones and jaw. He was tall and muscular, every woman’s dream of a desirable man, and yet he filled her with loathing and dread. He smiled at her as he held out the crystal goblet, his eyes bright with admiration and desire.

‘Here you are, my moongazy girl. You look beautiful sitting there like that against the light. I feel—’

At that moment the photo, still between the pages of the book in Sylvie’s hands, slipped out and fell to the floor. She gasped and quickly tried to cover it up with her foot. Magus frowned and placed the glass very deliberately on a side table.

‘Magus, can we—’

She stopped, having no idea what she could say to distract him. Her mind was paralysed and her heart pounded with dread in the heavy silence. He looked her in the eye and something within him uncoiled itself, slowly and carefully.

‘What are you trying to hide from me, Sylvie?’ he asked quietly. ‘What’s this you’re attempting to conceal?’

He bent and slid the white rectangle from under her shoe. Straightening up, he turned it over and stared full into the face of the Green Man. He saw the foliage in an aura around the head, the thick dark curls full of vegetation, and those clear, grey eyes, slanted and long-lashed, gazing out from the green-smeared face with such clarity. Sylvie froze in absolute terror and Magus raised his eyes to meet hers. He finally realised then, in that moment, that Sylvie would never love him. This boy was the one she wanted, the only one she’d ever love. He, Magus of Stonewylde, was nothing to her and never could be. With a roar of pure animal rage, he ripped the photo in two.

‘
Why?
’ he bellowed. ‘
Why him? Why not me?
’

He ripped the photo in half again, and then again, throwing the pieces to the floor and grinding them under his boot in a paroxysm of fury. He snatched up the goblet and flung it violently
across the room. It hit the wall and smashed in an explosion of crystal shards and amber liquid. His chest heaved with anger as he glared down at Sylvie, his hands clenching and unclenching, his breathing loud. She curled up as small and tight as her skin-tight dress allowed, burrowing into the corner of the window seat, her face white and eyes enormous with terror. He fell to his knees before her, taking her shoulders in his hands and gripping her tightly. His eyes were wild in his hollow face. His voice was low and trembling, nothing like his normal smooth tone.

‘You cut me to the bone, Sylvie. I’ve told you how I feel about you and I laid myself open to you. I offered you something I’ve never offered anyone before, not even the girl I once cared for so many years ago. All I ask for is your love. Why’s that so difficult to give? Every woman I’ve ever noticed has fallen at my feet and been mine for the taking. Nobody’s ever turned their back on me, not wanted me. Why are you so different? How can you love that boy and not me?’

His voice cracked in anguish and for a terrible moment she thought he was going to cry. She stared at him, mute with fear, and he felt her trembling beneath his hands. Suddenly a white hot rage welled up inside him and with it an overpowering urge to hurt her really badly. To hit her and hit her until she was nothing but a piece of battered debris, her beauty ruined and her spirit smashed. His hands flexed on her shoulders as the desire to destroy her flooded through him. He could do it so easily. Then he saw a pulse beating frantically in her white throat above the diamond choker, like a small trapped bird.

With a groan he let her go, pushing her violently away from him. She fell back hard against the window. His face was dark with unspent rage and pain. He looked down at the fragments of photo beneath his feet for a long moment and took a deep breath. Then he looked up at Sylvie, his face now under control, his voice like steel.

‘Yul will die tonight at my hand and at my pleasure. Because you love him, I shall kill him slowly and his death will not be easy. And then, on that rock, I’ll make you pay. No gentleness
and no love in it. You’ll pay every day for the rest of your life for hurting me like this. You’ll wish that you’d loved me while you had the chance, before you turned love into hate. You’ll wish it with all your heart.’

Siskin climbed into a taxi at the station and tipped the porter who’d helped with his suitcase. The porter looked askance at the dapper little man, something from a bygone era with his patent leather shoes, brushed overcoat and hat.

‘Stonewylde please,’ said Siskin, closing the car door.

‘Where’s that to then, sir?’ asked the taxi driver, clearly a Dorset man.

Siskin sighed, but in his heart was glad that somewhere the size of Stonewylde had managed to remain unknown even to locals, cloaked in mystery and invisible to the Outside World.

‘Take the main road out of town and I’ll direct you,’ replied Siskin. ‘It’s about an hour away.’

He sat back in the taxi and smiled to himself. Not long now, and he’d be back home where he belonged.

T
he intercom on Magus’ desk buzzed. He covered the room in a few long strides and jabbed the switch, picking up the receiver.

‘Yes? … Good. No, keep them there. I’ll be with you in fifteen minutes or so to collect them myself.’

Sylvie looked away quickly as he came over to her. The hired men must have arrived at the Gate House, and once again she desperately hoped her message had got through to Yul. The alternative, so vividly explained by Magus, was too awful to contemplate.

‘I have to go out for a while,’ he said neutrally, standing over her as she huddled in the window seat. ‘I’ll be gone for less than an hour and while I’m away, you must lie down and rest.’

He reached across and smoothed down her hair, and despite his earlier cruel words there was gentleness once again in his touch. He took her chin in one hand and looked into her eyes. She was so very beautiful and so very vulnerable, and he felt the desire to protect her and to violate her in equal measures. He smiled tightly and patted her cheek.

‘After this Solstice, Sylvie, that boy will be gone and you’ll forget him. You’ll live by my side day and night and you’ll learn to love me. I know the Earth Magic will return to me and together you and I will be so powerful; a partnership such as Stonewylde has never known before.’

He sighed and taking her hand, guided her over to the sofa and pushed her down gently onto the soft leather.

‘Try to get a little sleep, Sylvie – you’ve a long night ahead of you. I’ll be back to collect you before sunset.’

He perched on the edge of the sofa and took one of her hands in his, examining her bitten nails.

‘You’re an unpolished jewel, Sylvie, but under my guidance you’ll glitter and sparkle. I’ll enjoy working on you, polishing and refining you until you reach perfection. I’ll devote myself to you.’

He raised her hand, heavy with the diamonds locked around her wrist, and held it to his cheek, closing his eyes momentarily. He sighed deeply and looked into her eyes. The black fire blazed as he scoured her soul.

‘A moongazy girl is hard to find and I shall never, ever let you go. Remember that, Sylvie. I’ll be with you always – for ever.’

He bent and kissed her on the lips. His scent filled her nostrils as he lingered, seeming loathe to leave her. Then he rose and his gaze swept her one last time.

‘I’ll be back for you, Sylvie.’

‘Goodbye, Magus,’ she whispered.

She heard the key turn in the lock and her heart thumped wildly with anticipation.

Three cloaked figures left the woods and laboriously climbed the hill. Wheezing and panting, they lugged themselves up the slope, skirting around the litter of boulders that rose out of the rough grass.

‘Sacred Mother, I hope we’re not going right to the top!’ gasped the youngest but heaviest of the three.

‘Aye, we’ll be casting up there round that stone, but there’s another spot hereabouts that I have a mind to search out first,’ replied Violet. ‘Not sure where ‘tis exactly but I’ll know it when I find it.’

‘Aye, sister, you did talk about this place afore, I recall,’ said Vetchling, her breathing harsh with the exertion. ‘That day we was harvesting our Fly.’

In the soft golden light, the three women paused to catch their breath. Beneath them spread fields, dark and fallow at this time
of year, the brown woods lapping at the edges. Above them stood Hare Stone, jutting out against the pale blue sky and catching the long, low rays of the dying sun.

‘I don’t see why we’re doing this,’ grumbled Starling. ‘’Tis known that Magus is taking her up to Mooncliffe for the Frost Moon. She won’t be coming here.’

‘Aye, right enough. My Martin will be up there a-helping him, the right-hand man as ever he was. But here ‘tis the place she always favours, as did that Raven afore her.’

‘So why are we here if they’re at Mooncliffe? ‘Tis a waste of time, if you ask me,’ whined Starling. ‘I could be home snug by the fire with a bag o’ chestnuts.’

‘We must do what we can, daughter,’ said Vetchling. ‘Tonight is the time, and that old crow Heggy has been waitin’ a long time for this, Dark Goddess rot her bones. All will be decided tonight.’

‘Aye, sister. We must add our own magic and we must spoil this ground, where them moongazy maidens love to dance. ‘Tis not the place that Magus favours for there’s no snake stone here to drink the power. So stop your moaning, Starling – any fool knows we need three for a charm o’ powerful trouble. And we must hasten!’

As soon as Magus had left, Sylvie jumped up and raced over to the dumb waiter, wrenching open the panelling. The note had gone! Yul would know the danger he was in – so long as the message had reached Clip and been passed to him. She hurried down through the chambers to her bedroom. She must get changed into warm clothes and find the charm pouch Mother Heggy had sent for her to wear tonight. She wished she knew what the plan was. There wasn’t much time till sunset and Magus wouldn’t take long to drive up to the Gate House and back. The sky was still bright but she was getting twitchy with the familiar sensation beginning to prickle under her skin. With shaking fingers she pulled the tiny bag’s dirty thong over her head, wondering what was inside the fastened pouch.