Magus of Stonewylde Book One (45 page)

They took the baskets of potions, blankets and food and left the Hall.

‘I must watch the sun go down,’ said Yul. ‘And I need to sleep outside tonight under the stars.’

‘I understand. Where should we go?’

‘The hill that overlooks the Stone Circle.’

They made their way there in the soft evening light, the violet shadows deepening as they walked. The air hummed with expectancy as the sun descended in the north-west. The sky was a pale lemon-yellow flecked with tiny grey-blue clouds. The golden orb glittered as it slowly sank into the enfolding hills. It
was still warm and swallows arced all around, feeding on gnats.

Yul stood on the hill top, scrubbed clean and anointed with Mother Heggy’s balm which made his skin tingle and glow. His hair fell in glossy curls to his shoulders, springing out to frame his face. He faced the setting sun and chanted softly, his arms stretched skywards, long fingers spread like rays. Sylvie stood just behind him. Across the shadowy fold of the land, she saw in the distance the Stone Circle and the community crowded within. She heard drumming, the heart beat of the Earth Goddess, of Stonewylde itself, and many voices singing in unison. The hair on her arms started to rise.

The sun sank below the horizon, a blaze of molten gold in a sky that was now tinged apricot. The earth seemed to hold its breath at such beauty. Gradually the sky lost its golden glow and the bow of the waxing moon shone silver against the palest of blue. Early stars freckled the heavens and the bats started to fly, flickering about their heads like soft leather gloves. Yul turned and took Sylvie in his arms. He held her close, their hearts beating against each other, his cheek caressed by her silky hair.

‘Tomorrow his descension will begin. His reign is almost over,’ he whispered.

Y
ul and Sylvie spread one of the blankets on the short grass of the hilltop and enjoyed their feast, savouring the delicious food from the Hall kitchens. Afterwards, as they sat close together gazing up at the velvet dome of glittering stars, they shared the cakes Clip had given Sylvie on her way to the quarry. The brilliant night took on a deeper dimension as the cakes worked their magic. The stars around them blazed in glory, shimmering in the sacred pattern of their dance.

Sylvie stared in wonder at the long twist of the Milky Way, the spiral helix of life. She thought of Yul’s precious life, of how last night she’d cheated Quarrycleave of its victim, snatching him back from the brink of death. She thought too, on the eve of her fifteenth birthday, about her own life. It was only three months since she’d arrived here at the Spring Equinox, so very ill and weak. Sylvie knew that if she hadn’t come to Stonewylde, she too would have been ready, as Yul had been last night, to abandon the struggle of living in total despair. But now … she’d found her home and found her destiny. It seemed there’d always been an empty place in her heart waiting for Yul to fill it.

His shoulder touching hers, Yul too gazed up at the blaze of star-fire above. He knew with certainty that he’d never willingly give up on life again. Life was sacrosanct and beautiful and he rejoiced that Sylvie had saved him from the fatal lure of Quarrycleave. In the magic of the black satin night, he put his arm around her and held her close, wanting nothing more than
this. And never anything less. He’d never give up this moongazy girl who had somehow been sent to him, a sparkling light in his darkness, and had turned his world around.

They heard the eerie call of owls hunting in the woods nearby, and both thought back to the previous night with a shudder. Sylvie found the potion labelled Midsummer’s Eve in its little corked bottle and gave it to Yul.

‘Where will you sleep tonight?’ she asked. ‘You can’t go back to your cottage, can you? Not until … not while Alwyn’s around. Will you go to your shelter in the woods?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘I won’t skulk around like an outlaw any longer. I belong in the Village, back in the heart of Stonewylde.’

He felt the restorative power of the draught he’d swallowed, and with it bloomed a new sense of purpose.

‘I’ll sleep under the trees on the Village Green,’ he said. ‘I’ll be out of sight there. You’d better go home, Sylvie. Your mother will wonder where you are.’

‘She’ll be too busy trying to get Magus’ attention to worry about me. I’ll walk down with you. I want to make sure you’re alright first, and then I’ll go home.’

By the time they reached the Village, the place was quiet. Everyone had returned from the ceremony at the Stone Circle, but with such an early start the following morning to herald the Solstice sunrise, people had gone straight to their beds. The Great Barn and Jack in the Green were both dark and quiet, and the lights in most cottages were out too. Sylvie and Yul walked in silence along the cobbled track, their hands entwined in a knot of partnership. They stepped onto the grass of the Village Green, the great trees encircling them in a ring of safe darkness. Above them the heavens sparkled and Yul breathed deeply.

‘This is where I belong,’ he said quietly. ‘In the heart of Stonewylde. Thank you, Sylvie. I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me. If it weren’t for you, my saviour …’

She squeezed his hand and leant against him. She was exhausted, the events of the last two days almost too much to contemplate now they were safely home.

‘Whereabouts will you sleep?’ she asked, looking around the huge circle of trees. ‘Let’s get the blankets out for your bed now, and then I really must go home. We have to be up so early tomorrow.’

Yul led the way towards the dark shape of the largest tree and Sylvie stumbled after him. They spread the blankets on the soft, dry floor of earth beneath the spreading branches. Under here it was much darker, all sounds muffled by the dense foliage that reached down to the ground, making a sheltered haven all around them. Sylvie checked he had the green tunic ready for the ceremony the next morning, and the little bottle Mother Heggy had prepared for him.

When all was done, they straightened and faced each other. Sylvie felt unexpectedly awkward. She shook with fatigue from the long walk there and back, and the excitement of the daring rescue. She trembled, too, from the sudden awareness of being alone in the moonlight with Yul, in the intimacy of the tree’s sanctuary.

‘Come here, Sylvie,’ he said softly. She stepped forward shyly and he enfolded her in his arms. She smelt his herbal scent and laid her cheek against his chest, feeling his heart beating. He brushed the top of her head with his mouth and shuddered. He was as taut as a bow string, his body lean and hard against her as he held her. They stood like this for some time, enjoying being close to one another at last.

‘I feel so happy when I’m with you,’ whispered Sylvie, looking up at him in the darkness. She could just make out his face. ‘You make me feel, for the first time, that I truly belong.’

‘You’re the most magical person I’ve ever met, Sylvie,’ he murmured. ‘When I’m with you I feel special, like I’m part of something greater.’

She snuggled her face into his soft shirt, wanting to be this close for ever. She felt his fingers, gentle but sure, running down the length of her hair. Then he touched her forehead and traced around her eyebrow and cheekbone. She knew his hands were damaged from the stone quarry but his touch was delicate. His
fingertips whispered across her closed eyelids, her nose, and then found her lips.

With a gossamer touch he explored her mouth, the fine arch of her upper lip, the soft fullness of her lower one. Her lips tingled at his touch; his sheer gentleness set her on fire. Without thinking, she kissed his fingers as they caressed her mouth. He groaned and started to pull away from her. In a fluid and spontaneous movement, she reached up and pulled his head down to hers, her lips finding his like interlocking pieces of a puzzle.

As she felt his mouth on hers, the world spiralled dizzily around her. Everything else – the darkness, the moon through the branches, the silent Village across the Green – faded away as she dissolved into him. She clung to him and he crushed her in a fierce embrace. The kiss, soft and yet so desperate, seemed to last an eternity. Nothing else would ever matter quite so much again.

They pulled apart, breathless and trembling, and stood facing each other. Their lips were on fire, crushed and tingling for more. For the first time ever, Sylvie understood what all the fuss was about. In the moonlight filtering down through the tree, Yul saw her teeth gleam as she smiled. He smiled back, his heart hammering in his chest with elation.

‘What tree is this?’ she whispered. ‘This place where we had our first kiss?’

‘The yew,’ he replied softly, running a reverent hand down her silky hair, feeling her delicate shoulder blades beneath, adoring every tiny piece of her. ‘The tree of death and rebirth. The tree of the phoenix, of regeneration. I feel as if part of me has died tonight, Sylvie, gone forever. And something new has been born in its place. I’ll never be the same person again.’

‘Me neither. It’s a Midsummer’s Eve enchantment. Everything around us seems charged with magic.’

‘Sylvie, we must be careful. We must keep this guarded and secret.’

He pulled her to him again, wrapping his arms around her.
She felt him shaking, and thrilled at his passion for her.

‘You’re so precious to me,’ he whispered, clinging to her tightly as if he’d never willingly release her. But after a while she drew away from him, even though she wanted only to stay in his arms.

‘I’d better go, Yul. It must be very late.’

He caught her hand and raised it to his cheek, pulling her back. She saw his eyes glint in the moonlight, burning like stars.

‘Sylvie … I want to kiss you again. Just once more. Please, Sylvie …’

Under the ancient yew tree the old magic was strong. The silver moon peered through the branches at the boy and girl, locked together in their desire for each other. Neither could break away for the kiss was deep and sweet, the stuff that dreams are made of. Their passion crackled like phoenix flames around them as they kissed, entwined and forged them in a bond of bright new love. Finally they pulled apart. Yul raked a hand through his curls, his chest rising and falling fast.

‘You must get back, Sylvie,’ he said unsteadily.

‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘It’s just … I can’t bear to leave you. I want to be with you all the time, but it could be ages till we can see each other alone again.’

He gazed down at her, his eyes blazing. The moonlight was brighter now, pouring moonbeams through a gap in the branches. He could see her face clearly in the silver light, her eyes glowing with their own magical beauty.

‘I love you, Sylvie,’ he said softly. ‘We belong together, you and I.’

She reached up and brushed her fingertips over his face, feeling the bones and hollows. Her heart filled with tenderness for him, a rush of emotion so deep she wanted to cry. She thought of the boy she’d watched digging the garden in the spring, angry and secretive, trying to hide his shameful injuries. She remembered the evening she’d found him sitting alone on the stone bridge, wrapped in his loneliness and misery. But now – his darkness had found her brightness. Something between them had ignited and he was transformed.

‘I love you too, Yul,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll always love you. We’ll be together one day, I know it.’

He smiled in the shadows of the yew’s branches, the moon silvering his glossy curls.

‘It started today, on Summer Solstice Eve. Do you feel it, Sylvie? And tomorrow … tomorrow’s the day when the sun stands still in the sky and everything changes. I don’t know how, but our lives are on the cusp of change. Our destiny has begun to unfold, just as Mother Heggy said it would. Tomorrow will be magical.’

Sylvie walked wearily up the track leading out from the Village. It was a fair distance to Woodland Cottage, and her legs were stiff and aching. Her heart still thrilled from the burning kisses under the yew tree, the passion and magic seared on her memory. She wondered what she’d done till she loved Yul, what had filled her life before this blazing certainty had taken hold. She knew he was right; tomorrow everything would change, but her worry was that it might be for the worse. When Magus discovered she’d brought Yul back from the quarry, what would he do? She couldn’t face the thought of Yul suffering any more.

She jumped as a sharp scream rose from the trees beside the track. A fox barked and there was a flutter of wings as something flew up from its roost in fright at the brutal disturbance. The curved moon and brilliant starlight lit the way ahead dimly. Sylvie wished she were home in her bed. She, along with everyone else in the community, must be up again at first light and was now so exhausted she could barely drag her throbbing feet on.

She heard another sound behind her and turned fearfully, imagining some wild creature emerging from the woods. Her heart leapt in alarm as she recognised something infinitely more dangerous: the unmistakable form of Magus approaching. She considered hiding amongst the trees but realised he must have seen her on the moonlit track.

‘Blessings, Sylvie!’ he called as he drew closer. She turned and waited for him, her insides shrinking with dread. They fell into step together.

‘What on earth are you doing out so late on Solstice Eve?’ he asked. ‘Everyone else is asleep in their beds.’

‘But not you, Magus.’

‘No … I’ve just walked someone home to the Village. We stayed up at the Circle after the ceremony. I hope you enjoyed it there tonight, although it was nothing compared with what’s to come tomorrow. The Summer Solstice is such a powerful festival! The Earth Magic is at its brightest and best. It must be something to do with the position of the earth in relation to the sun. I love the energy I get from the Solstice every year.’