Moondance of Stonewylde (6 page)

‘Stop it! Stop it, Sylvie and listen to me!’

Still she struggled, trying to stand and escape his grasp.

‘Sit down!’ he shouted, thinking she’d damage her wrists if she carried on like this. ‘Sylvie, can you hear me? If you don’t calm down now I’ll have to slap you.
SYLVIE!
’

But she didn’t seem to hear him, kicking out and shaking her head violently from side to side. She began to shout but the words didn’t make sense. She was clearly hysterical. He released one of her wrists and slapped her sharply round the face. Her head snapped to the side, hair flying, and she went limp and pliant. She slumped down into a huddle, crying piteously.

‘Sylvie, stop it. There’s no need to cry. It didn’t hurt that much.’

He put an arm around her and she flopped against him, all the fight knocked out of her. A strange little sobbing noise came from deep within her but after a moment she started again.

‘Please, please let me go. She’s coming, she’s rising! I must be there to greet her, to honour her. Please let me go. I beg you. Please, please …’

‘Alright! We’ll go outside and you can show me what you must do. Come on then.’

She leapt up, her eyes wild, and he held on to her hand tightly. They went up the garden path, but at the gate when she tried to turn towards the woods, he pulled her round and bundled her in the other direction.

‘The woods, the hilltop, my Yul—’

‘Oh no, Sylvie! We’re not going anywhere near him. We’re going somewhere far better for moongazing.’

In the woods, Yul’s excitement had turned to anxiety. The sun had already set and it was almost time for the rising of the moon.
Where was she? She’d promised to be here, so something must have happened. Had they locked her up? He decided to go to the cottage and have a look for himself. The light was fading amongst the trees as he moved silently along the path, eyes scanning and ears pricked, ready to melt into the shadows if Magus or anyone else appeared. But nobody did, and no lights were on in the cottage although dusk was falling. He crept in through the wide open front door, hoping he wasn’t walking into a trap. It was soon obvious that the place was empty. Now what should he do? Frowning, he left the cottage, closing the door behind him, and started down the lane away from the woods, unsure where to look next.

Sylvie skipped along, still tethered to Magus’ hand but tugging him forward.

She’s coming, she’s rising! I can feel her. Quick, quick, quick! I must be ready to dance and spread my wings. Quick!

Magus was mystified by the sounds she made, which were almost speech-like but didn’t make any sense. She was desperate, rigid with tension and quivering with suppressed energy. She tried to pull him into a run, frantic to reach their destination. As they climbed the path leading to the cliff top Magus held on to her tightly. The drop was treacherous in places and he didn’t want her running ahead.

Let me go! She’s here! I must dance in her quicksilver magic. She’s giving and I’m not there to receive her gift. Let me go!

With a sudden twist she freed her hand from his and flew up the path. Her bare feet skimmed the stony ground, her long gauze skirts brushing the grasses and flowers at the side. He called after her, but in vain. She was so fast, haring ahead until she reached the top of the cliff. He was fit and strong but still couldn’t keep up with her. When he reached the top a few minutes later she was already dancing. She spiralled joyfully, springing across the grass with pointed bare feet, arms outstretched to the heavens. Magus stood at the head of the path, out of breath from the rapid climb and now breathless with wonder. The great moon
had risen, a glowing orb that hung brightly just above the sea. And Sylvie glowed too with a strange silvery light which laced around her body in shining threads, sparkling on her moongazy dress and glimmering hair.

Yul had reached the Hall. Keeping to the shadows, he skirted the main building trying to see inside without being seen himself. Maybe Magus and her mother had dragged Sylvie up here and shut her in one of the rooms. He saw Hallfolk sitting around on big sofas watching a large coloured screen. The lighting was different here from the candlelight he was used to, for the Hallfolk used electricity from the wind-farm. The harsh light reminded him of the byre, its bright glare making him shudder.

Yul crept around the walls peering through the windows. In other rooms people sat talking and reading. He saw servants working in the kitchen, washing up and preparing more food for the next day. He found Marigold sitting in a small room talking to Martin, and stepped back quickly from the lighted window in case they saw him. But there was no sign of Sylvie or Magus. His hopes soared at one point when he spotted Miranda curled up in a chair with a book on her lap. But Sylvie wasn’t there. So where could she be? If Magus had confined her upstairs in the Hall he’d never be able to find her.

Magus walked across the grass to the great stone, the one where he’d celebrated the Moon Fullness with Miranda and the place where he liked to honour the Moon Goddess every month with a different woman. He sat on the disc of rock and watched the incredible sight before him as Sylvie danced, arms upraised like wings. The silvery light coursed around her body and then disappeared down into the earth, shooting from her feet as she leapt and skipped. She sang too, a weird unearthly sound. Her face was turned to the great golden moon as it climbed steadily, turning more silvery the higher it rose.

Magus watched in fascination, trying to understand what the silver threads of light could be. He saw them earthing, like
lightning in a storm, and guessed they were some sort of electrical or magnetic energy generated by the moon. Sylvie crackled with the force; even her hair, normally so silky, stood out thick and stiff with strange static. He felt a churning in his stomach as he watched her; a sharp excitement as if on the verge of a special discovery.

Sylvie was oblivious to everything other than her dancing. Magus watched for what seemed like ages; he couldn’t tell for how long as, strangely, his watch had stopped. He thought she must surely be exhausted by now and noticed she was beginning to slow down, so he called to her. She appeared to listen and stepped delicately on tip-toe over to him, as he sat on the white stone. Her dress glinted in the bright moonlight, the silver embroidery catching the moonbeams.

‘Hello, Sylvie,’ he murmured. ‘That was an amazing dance. Is this what you usually do with Yul?’

But she ignored him as if he hadn’t spoken at all. He could see in the moonlight that her eyes were blank. They were strange under normal circumstances; a pale grey with a darker grey round the edge of the irises. But now they were like full moons themselves; silvery and reflective, seeing nothing but beaming out moonlight. In one graceful leap she sprang onto the great stone.

As she landed she froze, her fingers outspread in shock, and uttered a piercing cry. The silver filigree threads still laced her pale limbs, but now they poured downwards into the rock in a cascade of energy. Magus felt it with a jolt. The feeling was similar to that jolt he’d experienced on the Altar Stone at the recent Solstice sunrise. That surge had been so powerful and unexpected it had made him drop the torch. Now he thrilled as the force of the silver energy pulsed up through the stone into his body, filling him with tingling euphoria.

He looked up at Sylvie in awe. She remained frozen, her face anguished and her song silenced. Her eyes rolled to him and focused. She gazed at him in sorrow as if begging for help. The rock around her feet glowed slightly; Magus leaned over to feel
it but couldn’t get his hand close enough. The energy field was very powerful, like the repelling power of two identical magnetic poles being forced together. Yet his hand, spread above the glowing rock, was absorbing the energy. Magus felt it coursing into his body, a strange icy sensation that tingled and burned. He felt strong, powerful.

Magus laughed with delight, ignoring Sylvie’s beseeching eyes. In some ways this was even better than the energy he received on the Altar Stone during the festivals. That was a brief, albeit powerful, flash of irradiation. But this moon magic went on and on, pouring down through her body and streaming up into him from the white stone. He stretched out flat on the rock as close as he could get to the force field around Sylvie, feeling the energy flow into every part of him. He heard a small sound. Her lips were moving.

‘Please! Help me down …’

‘Oh no, Sylvie! I don’t know what’s going on here but we’re staying put. You wanted to moondance. You keep at it, my moongazy girl.’

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the powerful sensations flooding through him.

It occurred to Yul that Magus might have followed Sylvie up to the Hare Stone. He couldn’t understand how, for he’d been in the woods waiting and would’ve seen them. But he had to check. If she was up there with Magus, who knew what might happen. He hated the thought of Magus seeing her moongazy and defenceless. He ran at full speed from the Hall, into the woods and up the hill through the boulders to Hare Stone. It was immediately clear that they weren’t there. The hares raced around the stone and the barn owl sat on top of it. But there was no girl with silver hair dancing like a bright fairy, and no dark-eyed man either.

He flung himself down on the grass in disappointment, chest heaving and lungs burning. He’d run a couple of miles, mostly uphill, and to no avail. Where on earth were they? And then the
dreadful thought struck him like a thunderbolt. He cursed himself for not thinking of it earlier. Mooncliffe! That was where Magus always went for the Moon Fullness. He’d imagined Sylvie leading him, but it would of course have been the other way round. Yul didn’t think Magus would harm her. She was still a child and he’d always treated her so gently. But nevertheless he started to panic, knowing well the significance of that round disc of stone. It was common knowledge how Magus usually chose to honour the moon rising.

Leaping to his feet, Yul raced back down the hill again, through the dark woods, past the cottage, and onto the long path that led eventually up to Mooncliffe. The moon was now higher and brighter in the sky, a golden coin flecked with tiny grey clouds. If anything bad was going to happen at Mooncliffe, it would’ve happened by now. But that didn’t stop him running as fast as he could to find her.

It was late and Miranda had been waiting at the cottage for some time. She was worried about Sylvie, and also about Magus. She didn’t like the thought of them alone together in the moonlit night. She knew it was stupid to be jealous of her own daughter, and she trusted Magus of course, but she had no control over her feelings of resentment. She paced up and down the small cottage in a fret of impatience and growing anxiety. She should’ve asked to join Magus in keeping an eye on her daughter, not left them alone together like this. Sylvie was her responsibility after all. What on earth could they be doing all this time?

Sylvie stood in exactly the same position on the great stone as if rooted there. The glowing area of rock had spread. Her eyes were now shut, her face still agonised. Her outspread fingers had drooped and her arms hung by her sides. She stood like a closed-eyed carving in the moonlight, a strange statue with silver threads travelling down her body and into the rock at her feet. Magus still lay spread-eagled as close as he could bear. His eyes were shut too, but the expression on his face was one of bliss.

‘Please, Magus, please let me go,’ Sylvie whispered. She was aware of what was happening but she couldn’t move at all. She felt exhausted, drained of everything. Her legs trembled and were barely able to support her. Magus ignored her pleas. He’d realised that somehow her body was channelling energy from the full moon into the stone. Just like at the Altar Stone in the Stone Circle, he was able to soak the power up from the rock itself. He wasn’t sure if the energy would remain in the stone once she’d got down and was loath to let her go quite yet. Another few minutes should do it.

She crumpled almost in slow motion onto the pale rock, her legs finally giving way. Reluctantly Magus sat up and stretched, glancing at the girl lying next to him. He felt as if he could perform any feat in the world. He jumped to the ground and, leaning over, scooped Sylvie up in his arms, feeling an almost superhuman strength. She was as light as rose petals. Her hair hung over his arm in a long silver swathe, the static now gone, and she felt cool to the touch. Her arms and legs gleamed in the milky moonlight and her beautiful dress shimmered as the embroidered moons and stars reflected real moonbeams. He stood on the cliff top, a tall figure gazing at her silvered face as she lay motionless in his arms, eyes closed and seemingly asleep. A moongazy girl indeed, he thought tenderly.

Yul, his heart pounding with exertion, had arrived just in time to see Sylvie fall. He’d thought at first that she was alone on the great stone, and was surprised to notice the dark figure of Magus lying there too. Was the man unconscious? But he moved and effortlessly lifted Sylvie in his arms, then stood staring at her. Yul’s instincts screamed to run over and make sure she was alright. Instead he crouched down in the tall bracken, his legs shaking from the punishing run.

He ducked just in time as Magus turned towards him and the path leading down the cliff. It was a striking sight – the tall, powerful man, blond hair gleaming in the bright moonlight, carrying Sylvie’s limp body. She lay like a wounded bird in his
arms. They brushed past Yul’s hiding place and he steeled himself not to leap up and challenge Magus. He waited until they were well down the path before moving. Magus was obviously taking her home, whatever had happened up here now finished.