Solstice at Stonewylde (26 page)

BOOK: Solstice at Stonewylde
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‘And the Village Green is the soul,’ said Yul, ill at ease with this enigmatic man. There were times when he felt drawn to Clip and his shamanic gift, but he knew the man’s weaknesses too well to trust him.

‘Yes, I can see that. The Green Man – he’s your spirit guide, you know. You’d feel his presence powerfully on the Green.’

‘Under the yew.’

Clip nodded, watching Yul through the smoke that curled like a veil between them. He saw echoes of his brother in the strong face that gazed out across the land. Yul’s cheekbones, nose and jaw were as chiselled as Magus’ and spoke of the same strength of character and determination.

‘You’d make a worthy magus,’ said Clip. ‘The Earth Magic is in you and the Goddess has chosen you – I can feel it. My brother has had his day and his cruelty has become excessive. I’d thought he had that side of his nature under control, but lately … You’re
a brave young man, and should you defeat him at the Solstice, I’ll support you.’

Yul glanced at him in surprise and Clip was struck by the beauty of the boy’s deep grey eyes. Yul nodded and fed more wood to the fire. He began to prepare the rabbit on the spit and Clip watched him carefully, admiring the practicality and economy of his actions.

If only his brother had accepted this boy as his son, how different things could’ve been. Yul might’ve tempered his father’s hard heart and brought out the kindness and fullness of spirit that Clip was sure were locked away inside Magus’ steely personality. Apart from that brief few months with Maizie, Magus had never loved anybody but he could’ve loved this boy, and through that love become a better person. But it was too late for that, and Clip knew that now there was room for only one of them at Stonewylde.

Magus lay in his black spa-bath, the deep and fragrant water bubbling gently around him. His eyes were closed and he dreamed of steak, bloody and tender. His mouth watered. Not long now and he’d be able to eat a decent meal. It was almost a week since the cliff-top funeral following the Mooncliffe fiasco. His iron will had stood him in good stead as he’d starved himself since then, eating just enough to remain functioning whilst he spent every waking hour working in his rooms. He’d worked diligently, closing many deals and setting up new ones. Throughout his self-enforced exile from everyday life, he’d let it be known that he was languishing on his sick bed unable to throw off a mystery illness.

Magus smiled to himself at the thought of the three weeks ahead. He’d been informed that Sylvie was buckling under the strain; struggling with the mountain of school work piled on her over the past weeks. He knew she’d had no contact with Yul. Martin had ensured that she was watched every minute of the day and the bolted and padlocked doors had prevented any visits from the bastard upstart. He could imagine the atmosphere in
her rooms at present, with Miranda moping around like a kicked dog. Today he’d launch the plan that would bring his moongazy girl to heel once and for all. He stood up and stepped out of the circular bath, wrapping himself in a thick robe. His gaunt face stared out a hundred times all around the black marble bathroom. Magus’ mouth split in a grim smile of satisfaction – he looked really dreadful.

The students sat around in the music room sipping drinks and eating snacks during break time. Sylvie was half hidden in the window seat, gazing out over the lawns with unfocused eyes. She felt fragile this morning after another big argument yesterday evening about leaving Stonewylde. Miranda hadn’t decided yet and Sylvie thought privately her mother was still clinging to a shred of hope that Magus would relent and say it had all been a misunderstanding. Although Miranda hadn’t gone into details, Sylvie had worked out what had happened that night. Magus must’ve lost his temper and finally shattered her illusions, though Sylvie still found it hard to believe that Miranda had laboured under her misconceptions for so long. Hadn’t she noticed how Magus was with the women who surrounded him? Had she really deluded herself into thinking he cared only for her, and didn’t enjoy any of the other women who fell at his feet?

Last night Sylvie had once again argued the case for staying put. Having considered carefully, she’d decided in the end that despite her fears about the conflict to come, she just couldn’t leave Stonewylde. The alternative was too terrible to contemplate. Back in the Outside World, with schools, shops, traffic, pollution, grimy people scurrying about their business – how would she ever fit into that sort of society after reconnecting with nature at Stonewylde? She remembered all her old medical problems, those awful allergies and sensitivities to the modern, toxic world which she knew would return if she went back to the grey prison of the Outside World. She couldn’t face hospitalisation again, nor the prospect of a life without the magical forces of Stonewylde. Sylvie knew she was unhappy at the
moment due to the pressure of school work and her peer group’s unkindness, but after the Solstice things would be different. And of course there was Yul … As if she’d picked up on Sylvie’s thoughts, Holly approached and sat beside her on the window seat.

‘Wakey wakey, Sylvie – no time for napping now! It’s your favourite lesson next, maths with William. He’s such a good teacher, isn’t he? Did you know he’s my mother’s cousin?’

‘That figures,’ muttered Sylvie. How could she ever overcome her unpopularity amongst the teachers when the whole lot of them were so inter-related and clannish?

‘I do hope you’ve done that stats homework or he’ll go mad,’ smirked Holly.

Sylvie looked away and shrugged.

‘Oh dear, are we a little down in the dumps today? I wonder why? Is it because Magus has abandoned you? Just when you thought you were well in there, too. That’s what he does, Sylvie – takes up with someone for a while and then drops them. You’re not so special after all, are you? And nothing from Yul either. Are you fretting under your house arrest? It’d drive me mad, not being able to go out.’

‘Go away, Holly.’

‘Still upset about Yul kissing me?’ she taunted. ‘It’s not long till our Rite of Adulthood and I’m
so
excited about that.’

‘You really haven’t got a clue, have you Holly? You’ve no idea what’s going to happen at the Winter Solstice.’

‘Why? What is going to happen, Miss Know-it-all?’

‘Never mind,’ said Sylvie wearily, gathering her books and files and standing up. She looked down at Holly, pretty and immaculately turned out as ever. The girl smiled nastily up at her, spitefulness animating her features.

‘The only thing that’s going to happen is I shall celebrate my coming of age with Yul. I’ll think of you, Miss Frumpy, as we drink the special mead and eat the ceremony cakes. I’ll toast you as we lie together on the rabbit-fur rugs next to the Solstice bonfire to keep ourselves warm while we make love.’

She rose too, barely reaching Sylvie’s chin. Her brown eyes raked Sylvie from head to toe.

‘How can you bear to be seen looking like that, Sylvie? I’d lock myself in my room if I looked such a tatty mess. It’s no wonder Magus has lost interest – he’s a man of style and expensive tastes and you look even worse than the Village girls. At least their clothes fit.’

‘Alright, let’s move on to revising standard index notation,’ said William, scribbling a jumble of numbers on the board. ‘Sylvie, come up and convert this number to standard index form please. This is an easy example to start us off, so I’m sure even you’ll have no trouble.’

Sylvie stood before the white board, the marker pen in her hand and her back to the group of students who sat around the couple of large tables. She felt their gleeful anticipation and knew that William was going to have fun with her today. He’d never be allowed to get away with this victimisation at any school in the Outside World but could behave how he liked here. She gazed blankly at the squiggles on the board’s shiny surface; they meant absolutely nothing to her at all. She’d missed this teaching too and the whole topic was a complete mystery to her.

‘Convert the number to standard index form,’ repeated William. ‘For crying out loud, girl, just have a try! We learn through our mistakes, so take a risk! If you’re wrong I’ll show you where to put it right.’

But it wasn’t as simple as that. If she was wrong he’d spend the rest of the lesson referring back to her mistake until she wanted to die with humiliation. Besides, even having a try was beyond her now; standing up here in front of everyone, her mind had gone completely blank with panic. She stood with her face close to the board, horribly conscious of her awful floral cotton skirt and woolly socks, and closed her eyes in despair. William must’ve made some kind of gesture behind her back, for the others students burst out laughing simultaneously.

‘I don’t know how to do it,’ said Sylvie woodenly. ‘I don’t have
the faintest idea. I missed this work when you covered it.’

‘Of course! How silly of me to have forgotten that. Every single time we turn to a new topic for revision – and I stress the word
revision
– you trot out the same lame excuse.’

‘I’ve tried to study it by myself,’ she said, still with her back to the class.

‘Clearly without success.’

‘I asked for some help last week!’ she burst out, turning to him with flaming cheeks. ‘And you said you didn’t have time!’

‘I’ve already taught this topic and I’m not teaching it again!’ he retorted. ‘Why should
you
be entitled to special one-to-one teaching? You should’ve been capable of picking it up from the textbook anyway. But everything we do seems beyond you, doesn’t it, Sylvie? Is there anything in the mathematics syllabus you do know?’

‘Probably not,’ she said bitterly, turning to go back to her seat.

‘Not so fast! Stay where you are, young lady, and let’s have a little try, shall we? Let’s see if there’s any aspect of mathematics where you feel you might have just the slightest inkling of understanding.’

Sylvie stood with her head bowed, feeling the sharp stabs of many pairs of bright eyes watching avidly, feeding on her distress. This was pack hunting at its most effective, and her heart thumped with anger. She was tempted to hurl the whiteboard marker pen at William’s sneering face.

‘Telling the time?’ called out Holly, flicking back her hair. ‘Adding up? Counting?’

There was another burst of laughter.

‘Now, now, Holly, let’s not be unkind,’ said William. ‘I do hope you’re not implying that poor Sylvie would be better off down in the Village School with the dullards! How about some simple, basic—’

The door opened and Hazel looked in.

‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘Magus wants to see Sylvie straight away.’

Sylvie had never imagined the summons could bring such relief. Tight-lipped, she gathered her things and stumbled from
the room, chased out by whispered barbs from Holly and her friends. William simply glared, robbed of his victim, and instructed the class to start the revision exercise.

‘Why does he want to see me now?’ asked Sylvie as they crossed the entrance hall and headed for the great staircase. Hazel shrugged.

‘I’ve no idea. He hasn’t seen anyone for over a week now, not even me. I’m seriously concerned for his health. He called me in just now and asked for some anti-depressants. Then he asked me to fetch you.’

They climbed the stairs and Hazel paused, looking hard at Sylvie.

‘I’m counting on you to do something to help him, and make sure you don’t upset him. I’ve never seen Magus like this before and I’m worried. Try to get him to eat if you can – he’s lost a lot of weight by the look of him.’

They stood before the stone arch leading into Magus’ apartments and Hazel knocked quietly on the oak door, then left Sylvie to face the man alone.

Magus’ aromatic fragrance filled the huge room, enveloping Sylvie as she stepped across the thick carpet. A fire crackled in the arched stone hearth and pale sunlight filtered through the diamond-paned windows. He lay on the leather sofa before the fire, a silk cushion beneath his head and cashmere rug draped over him. He looked vulnerable and exhausted. Gone were the arrogance and power. His face was hollowed, the cheekbones sharp, and he looked more like Yul than ever. There were dark shadows under his eyes and the lines around his mouth were etched deeper. Magus looked like a man who’d been suffering, a man in torment. He smiled slightly, his deep brown eyes soft as she approached. He raised his arms weakly to pull her down for a light kiss on the cheek. Then he indicated an armchair nearby where the late November sunlight fell onto her face.

He gazed at her until she became uncomfortable.

‘I’m sorry to hear you’ve been ill,’ she said finally to break the silence. He grimaced.

‘Now I know how you feel after the moondancing,’ he said. ‘I’m so weak I haven’t even been able to eat.’

‘But why? What’s wrong with you?’

He shrugged and his dark eyes locked into hers.

‘I need your moon magic, Sylvie. You promised to come with me but you let me down. And now I’m like this.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I didn’t mean to.’

She wondered if he saw through her. All she could think about was the lock of hair and the Dark Moon spell. She hadn’t fully believed in it before, but seeing this fragile-looking man lying so pathetically on the sofa in his pyjamas, she realised that Mother Heggy had done it again. This was the outcome of her previous visit to these chambers and nothing to do with her lack of moondancing for him. He was just using it as an excuse to make her feel guilty and had no idea of the truth behind his frailty.

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