Magus of Stonewylde Book One (23 page)

S
ylvie sat in one of the empty schoolrooms working on her geography project. On the table were several books from the library, and she was engrossed in her research. Outside it was wet and grey, all the bright new greenness dripping damply. A gardener pulled up weeds in a flower bed near the window, but Sylvie, curled up on cushions in the window seat with her computer on her lap, was unaware of anything other than her study. She looked up with a frown as a couple of the older girls entered the room.

‘Oh hi, Sylvie. How are you doing?’

‘Fine thanks. Just researching this volcanoes project.’

‘Oh, yeah, I remember doing that last year. There’s a good programme on Pompeii in the library – very interesting.’

‘Thanks, I’ll look out for it.’

Sylvie smiled, still appreciating the novelty of being treated kindly by the other students. Nobody from her London school would have even thought of offering help.

‘Have you seen Buzz?’ asked July. ‘He promised to revise some history with us. He’s really clever and he’s going to sail through his exams.’

‘No I haven’t seen him, but I’ll tell him you’re looking for him if I do.’

‘Thanks. See you later.’

Sylvie settled back again, wriggling into the cushions, the computer cradled on her knees. Outside, the rain pattered
against the diamond panes of the mullioned window. She closed her eyes in contentment; this was the way to study, not sitting in rows surrounded by a mob baying for the teacher’s blood.

‘You won’t learn anything like that,’ came a voice from the doorway. Sylvie’s eyes shot open and she groaned quietly.

‘July and Wren are looking for you,’ she said. But Buzz came in and closed the door behind him, crossing the polished wooden floor to sit next to her on the window seat. She felt a flicker of irritation. She really didn’t like him despite his huge popularity amongst the Hallfolk teenagers, and she’d felt uncomfortable near him ever since the incident with Yul in the woods by the Stone Circle.

‘I know they are. I’m trying to avoid them.’

‘They’re hoping you’ll revise some history with them.’

‘Yeah, I know. But it’s not revision they’re interested in, believe me.’

Sylvie raised an eyebrow at this but kept silent. She couldn’t understand his popularity. The girls hung around him, flirting and giggling. And the boys were just as bad, always deferring to him, vying for his attention. Surely she couldn’t be the only one who found him conceited and over-full of his own importance?

He leaned over and looked at her screen. He was big and masculine, clean smelling but exuding a male scent that made her nose wrinkle. His arms were covered in curly golden hair and he wore a heavy gold chain bracelet.

‘Ah, volcanoes. That’s an interesting subject. I could help you if you like; I’ve got my old project on file.’

‘No, I’m fine, thanks very much,’ she said quickly.

He sat back against his corner of the window seat and studied her.

‘You really don’t like me, do you Sylvie?’

She felt embarrassed. Was it that obvious? She shook her head quickly.

‘No … I mean, yes, I—’

‘You don’t have to pretend. It’s alright – we just got off on the wrong footing, you and me. But I’d like to get it sorted out before I go away for my exams. I really like you. You’re different from the others here and I want us to be friends.’

Her heart sank.

‘Of course we’re friends, Buzz. It’s just that you’re much older than me and I don’t feel comfortable with someone who’s so much more grown up than I am.’

He smiled at her and she realised that he was quite attractive after all, in a large, blond way. His face was smooth and small featured for someone so big, and his eyes were an interesting shade of light blue and very intense. He had a nice smile and white, even teeth, with a masculine dimple in his chin. Then an image of Yul came to her mind – dark tousled hair, thin face and deep grey eyes. There was no competition.

‘At Stonewylde we all reach adulthood at sixteen, and I only recently had my sixteenth birthday – at the Spring Equinox. I was told you’ll be sixteen next year, at the Summer Solstice? So you’re not that far behind me. And surely it’s good to have someone a bit older and more experienced to help you through everything?’ His pale eyes gleamed and he cracked his knuckles as she searched for a suitable reply. ‘I was going to ask you to come for a walk with me, but it’s a little wet outside.’

‘Yes, much too wet.’

‘Pity. But anyway, I was hoping for your help with my Religious Studies revision.’

Sylvie realised she wouldn’t get rid of him quickly so she saved her work and put her computer on the table. She tucked her feet back onto the window seat and looked across at him, knowing she must try to be friendly. They lived in the same small community and he was making a big effort to be nice to her. She should really be flattered that he’d singled her out when the other girls were all so keen for his company.

‘Okay, if I can, but I’m sure you know much more about it than I do.’

‘Your hair is amazing, Sylvie. It’s almost white. It’s like silk.’

‘Thank you. So what did you want to ask me?’

‘Oh, about the Christian Church. I know about the rites of passage, like baptism and confirmation. I just wondered if you and Miranda were churchgoers before you came here, and if you could tell me what it’s like. Just some general background stuff in case I get a question about it in my exam.’

‘I’m afraid I can’t really help. We never went to church. My grandparents were apparently very religious and they disowned Mum, and—’

‘Really? Why?’

‘Because she had me so young and wasn’t married.’

‘That’s awful!’

‘Yes, not very caring at all, chucking out a young girl to fend for herself. So my mum’s always said the whole idea of religion was a load of hypocrisy and she wouldn’t go near a church. But there were some beautiful churches in London. It’s strange that there isn’t one in the Village, isn’t it? An old village like that, there’s always a church. It’s as traditional as the pub and the village green.’

‘Yes, it is, but there’s never been a church here. That’s how we’ve managed to keep apart from the Outside World.’

‘Aah! I’ve wondered how Stonewylde has stayed so separate and cut off.’

‘It’s all very interesting – we learned about it a couple of years ago from this funny little Hallfolk chap who visits every summer. He’s an Oxford don, a professor of history I think. Magus got him to give us a special talk about his research into Stonewylde’s history. Apparently the separation began when the Normans invaded and conquered England, because up until then there were many small communities like Stonewylde.’

‘So why isn’t there a church here?’

‘I can’t remember everything the professor said, but somehow the community at Stonewylde managed to resist the Normans. William the Conqueror ordered his barons to build churches all over the land, alongside their castles and manor houses, and usually on pagan sites. It was how he took control
of the country and subdued the Saxons – and also how the Old Religion was officially stamped out. But for some reason – maybe a pay-off of some sort – no Norman baron ever settled at Stonewylde.’

‘How fascinating,’ said Sylvie. ‘I love history.’

‘Me too!’ beamed Buzz. ‘So we do have something in common, Sylvie.’

‘Mmn, maybe. And there’s never been a church here at all?’

‘No, it’s always been a pagan community, following the old, indigenous beliefs that were around long before Christianity. That’s why you don’t find people at Stonewylde with Biblical names, like Matthew and Rachel. The Villagers have never even heard of the Bible. We do have some old names, Celtic and Saxon, but we choose most of our names from things in the natural world – trees and birds and plants.’

‘That’s why you’re Buzzard?’

‘That’s right. I’ve always thought one day I’d name my children after birds, like me.’

He smiled at her and Sylvie found herself warming to him a little. He wasn’t quite as insensitive and uncouth as she’d thought, and he really seemed to love Stonewylde. She smiled back and he looked ridiculously pleased. Sylvie had always considered herself unattractive and wasn’t used to having any kind of effect on the opposite sex. It was really quite fun.

She flicked her hair back so it rippled down her shoulders, enjoying Buzz’s gaze of blatant admiration. She was like a child discovering a box of matches but knowing nothing of fire.

‘You’re leaving soon for your exams, aren’t you?’ she asked.

‘Yes, we’re all staying at a public school near Exeter, owned by a Hallfolk relation.’

‘I don’t see why you can’t take your exams here. Why do you all have to go to another school?’

‘Because we’re not a registered centre at Stonewylde. Magus doesn’t want inspectors poking their noses in. The place in Exeter’s lovely, although not as grand as Stonewylde.’

‘Have all the Hallfolk got houses and jobs in the Outside World?’

‘Most of them, yes. We can’t all live here, like the Villagers. They support the community and they’re happy labouring in menial jobs, but we need to earn money. That’s how Hallfolk do their bit to provide for the estate. Most of the Hallfolk live out, and many of them are very successful.’

‘I didn’t realise that. Do they all come back here to visit?’

‘Yes, but not all at once. They come back once or twice a year for a stay, always during one of the festivals and especially Summer Solstice. Magus regulates who comes for which festival so we’re not completely swamped. Most of them send their children here to be educated and pay a fortune for it, just like any other public school.’

‘And have you always lived here?’

‘Full time since I was eight, when I started Hall School. Before that just for long visits.’

‘Do your parents live here now? I don’t really know who’s related to who. It’s quite confusing.’

He laughed.

‘It’s very confusing! And we’re all related somehow. Magus has an enormous family tree in his office. Sometimes he has tests done too, to see how closely we’re related. We have to be careful about who we partner because of the dangers of inbreeding. My mother lives in the Outside World, but she sent me to live here when I was eight because she wanted me to grow up as Hallfolk and be educated at Stonewylde. I go and stay with her every year. I’m due for a long visit straight after my exams actually.’

‘And what about your father? Is he one of the Hallfolk too?’

He looked at Sylvie in surprise.

‘My father? Of course he’s Hallfolk! Didn’t you know? I’m Magus’ son!’

Sylvie was taken aback. There was no evidence of a wife, so she’d assumed that Magus was single and childless.

‘You look shocked, Sylvie. Hadn’t you guessed?’

‘I … no, I hadn’t. I didn’t realise he had a child. Or a wife.’

Buzz laughed out loud at this.

‘Oh Sylvie, he hasn’t got a wife! He’s the magus. Every girl, Hallfolk and Villager, dreams of having him for her Rite of Adulthood. They all choose him for their initiation. He certainly couldn’t perform his role as the magus if he were married.’

Sylvie looked down at her hands. It seemed sordid and disgusting, the thought of Magus with so many different women, all wanting his attention and favours. And then she remembered her mother. Miranda was falling in love with him but she was just one more woman to add to his list. Sylvie felt quite sick. How could she ever tell her?

‘But I don’t understand. The Rite of Adulthood … what do you mean? Do people make love then? Up in the Stone Circle?’

‘Yes, it’s part of the ceremony. After the others have left, you cast off childhood and embrace adulthood. It’s a very special and sacred ritual.’

Her throat felt tight and she wanted to cry. It was horrible and repulsive. She’d thought Stonewylde and the magical ceremonies were so perfect, so beautiful. Instead it was all about sex.

Buzz looked concerned and leant across, tipping up her chin.

‘Hey, what’s wrong? Are you crying? Oh Sylvie, don’t be upset!’

He shifted across the seat and put an arm around her, pulling her close into his chest. His gentleness undid her and she burst into tears.

‘Hey, hey, stop it, silly girl. There’s no need to cry. What on earth’s the matter?’

She shook her head, unable to speak. Just then the door opened.

‘Oh, there you are Buzz! We—’

The girls stood in the doorway staring at Buzz in the window seat, his arm cradling Sylvie against his chest, her long hair spilling across his lap. Their mouths dropped open.

‘Not now, girls. I’m busy at the moment. I’ll catch you later.’ He frowned and gestured them away with a peremptory wave. ‘Come on, Sylvie, we’re going to be disturbed here. It’s stopped raining now. Let’s go out for a walk. You’ll feel better out in the fresh air.’

It sounded like a good idea and she didn’t want anyone to see her crying. He found a couple of jackets and they left the Hall through a side door. They walked along the side of the wing and into a part of the Hall gardens that was new to Sylvie. Passing through some tall clipped yew hedges, they entered a formal garden where the paths were of fine raked gravel and wooden benches were set into hidden alcoves.