Solstice at Stonewylde (4 page)

Sylvie didn’t understand the elemental powers at work in this special place; the moon magic spirals up at Hare Stone, the Earth Magic in the Stone Circle, the green magic in the Village Green. Nor did she understand the evil that stalked Quarrycleave and the coiled malignance at Mooncliffe. But she knew she wasn’t here to serve Magus’ needs. She must dance at Hare Stone at the rising of the full moon, just as Yul must stand on the Altar Stone at sunrise and sunset. Together they seemed necessary to both ground and release the energies that worked so powerfully here. They were both crucial to the very fabric of Stonewylde.

And she must be with Yul. She loved him; they belonged
together and their souls and destinies were linked, but if Magus had his way they’d be kept apart forever. If Magus had his way, Yul would be treated so badly that eventually he’d die. And she’d become Magus’ vessel, used every month to feed his hunger for moon magic, then confined to her bed, too weak to move, when he’d taken his fill. She couldn’t live like that and would never meekly obey him or accept his cruelty towards Yul. She’d rather not exist at all than exist on those terms.

Tom was back at the stables again with the cart. He knew that Magus was down in the Village and took the opportunity to visit Yul. He was delighted to find the boy sitting up and aware of who and where he was. The stench of vomit was strong, but Tom couldn’t risk cleaning it up.

‘’Tis good to see you back in the land of the living, Yul,’ he said, going over and tousling the boy’s matted hair.

‘I’m glad to be here,’ said Yul, the words sounding strange to him. He hadn’t spoken for a week. ‘Could I have some more water please, Tom? I’m so thirsty.’

Tom quickly refilled the jug from the tap outside and helped him to drink, cradling the fragile boy as he struggled to sit upright and hold the heavy pottery vessel.

‘I daren’t stay long,’ Tom said hurriedly. ‘I’m not meant to be in here at all and that brute Jackdaw’s still about somewhere. Look, I’ve some more of Mother Heggy’s remedy here. Can you drink it now?’

Yul put the little bottle to his lips and swallowed the draught, fighting the nausea that rose instantly.

‘I just saw your sweetheart,’ Tom said, trying to hide the pity he felt for the boy. Yul looked up desperately, his eyes huge in his bruised face.

‘Is she alright? Was she ill? I don’t even know what day it is. Is it long since the Moon Fullness?’

‘Aye, ‘twas a week ago and you been on this floor all that time. ‘Tis why you’re so weak. But your young lady is fine. She’s been ill too, they say, but she’s down at the Village right now in the
Green Labyrinth and she had a message for you. She said she loves you.’

Yul closed his eyes, relief sweeping through him. Knowing Sylvie was alright was the best medicine of all.

Sylvie reached the centre of the labyrinth, her legs shaky from the walk. It was the first time she’d been out of bed in a week and she was horrified at her own frailty. She felt as weak as she’d done months before, in the London hospital, and this stiffened her resolve to fight Magus. Nobody had the right to deliberately steal her health.

Inside the dome it was very dark with only a little light filtering through the densely woven wicker. The smoke from the small fire, the only one that burned at Stonewylde today, hurt her eyes and throat at first, but she became accustomed to it quite quickly. A robed adult in a skull mask pointed for her to sit cross-legged on a mat with the others, in a circle round the fire. Real bones and many black feathers hung from the low ceiling of the dome. Once all nine of the group were seated, the figure began to chant in time to the drums played softly by another crow-masked person.

‘Enter the darkness of the tomb, the darkness of the womb.’

A tray of small, white bowls was passed around, looking like babies’ skulls full of blood.

‘Drink of the blood of death and the blood of rebirth.’

They each took off their masks and gingerly sipped the deep crimson liquid. It was a sweet, aromatic elderberry wine made from the fruits of the tree of death, and laced with something that made their heads spin. Being so weak already, Sylvie was particularly affected. One by one they lay back on the mats and let their minds drift away, whilst above them the black feathers and white bones moved gently in the swirling smoke. Sylvie’s head jostled with strange images – a black raven, white rocks, a chevroned serpent, a circle of hares. Everything seemed fantastical and dream-like, significant and yet not making sense.

But too soon the robed figure commanded them to stand and
they obeyed, unsteady on their feet. Sylvie found it very difficult to stand, her legs buckling and the world tilting alarmingly. She wanted to cry with frustration at her weakness, and vowed once more that she’d never let Magus do this to her again.

‘’Tis time to leave the Otherworld. As you leave this womb you’ll be reborn. ‘Tis the beginning of a new life, a new start, so as you walk, think on your resolutions for the year ahead. Farewell.’

One by one they left the dome, blinking in the afternoon light and inhaling the fresh air in gulps. This journey was uplifting, a real new beginning, and Sylvie focused on the coming year and what she wanted: to join Yul in the fight against Magus and never give in, whatever the outcome, and to be as brave and strong in her defiance as Yul was. She thought too of Mother Heggy and her wisdom. The old woman knew something of what lay ahead and Sylvie must take heed of her advice.

She walked slowly and unsteadily, her eyes fixed to the ground, guided by the white pebbles in the grey fading light as she thought carefully about her resolutions. She must stay at Stonewylde; despite her threat to Magus yesterday, leaving here wasn’t an option. As he’d reminded her, the Outside World could kill her. Having spent months at Stonewylde, she may find her allergies were even worse should she return to the pollution and allergens, the chemicals and additives. More, she had to be with Yul and he’d never leave Stonewylde. He was a part of the place, his very bones the rocks and his skin the earth. His soul was rooted here and he could never abandon it even if he wanted to, and therefore neither could she. She’d stay at Stonewylde for ever until her bones too became the rocks and her skin the earth. Her body would become part of the substance of Stonewylde for eternity. She knew this with sudden, piercing certainty. Shuffling along the path of the labyrinth, her body cloaked in black and her face masked with death, Sylvie realised the full impact of where her thoughts had led. She’d fight Magus to the very end. And she’d rather die here than live under his dominion.

The exit of the labyrinth was ahead. Sylvie was handed a slip
of yew and then she was out. She staggered along the edge of the Green, free of the guiding path of the labyrinth, and made her way not over to the Barn with the others but into the cavernous gloom under the great yew tree itself. She drew strength from the strange atmosphere in the dark, natural dome under the branches. She cast her mind back to her birthday, the Summer Solstice, when she and Yul had had their first kiss in this magical place. She’d thought at the time that nothing else in the world mattered compared to that moment of perfect joy, but she realised now that she’d been mistaken. Many other things mattered a great deal.

She sat for a while on the bare earth littered with dead, brown barbs of yew and thought hard of Yul, trying to reach him. She felt the cold and smelled a foul stench. She sensed pain and a body so weak and poisoned that it barely functioned. Sylvie hung her head in sorrow, sending her love to him wherever he was, hoping desperately that he’d find the strength to fight back.

Just after Tom left the byre, Clip arrived. He was heading to the dolmen where he liked to spend Samhain night but felt a twinge of conscience as he remembered Yul and his plight. He’d called in briefly during the week and had realised there was nothing he could do for the boy who lay there like a corpse. Clip knew from experience how it was when the soul was away on a journey to other realms. The body left behind was an empty shell and there was nothing to be done until the soul returned.

Unlocking the door, he wrinkled his nose and peered into the gloom. He’d hoped that Magus had released the boy by now but then saw him sitting up, propped against a bale in the near darkness.

‘Ah, there you are,’ said Clip. ‘You’ve come back from your journey then. How are you?’

‘You were there that night,’ said Yul slowly, his tongue awkward. ‘You know what he did to me and how powerful those cakes were.’

Clip frowned.

‘I can barely see you in this murk. What’s that disgusting smell?’

‘I was sick. There’s a light somewhere.’

Clip located the switch outside, and in the glaring electric light his face dropped at the sight before him. He realised it was now over a week since Jackdaw had been sent to collect the boy from the cliff top and the time had flown by. He looked at Yul and was deeply shocked. The boy was a living corpse; face white and skeletal, eyes sunk in his head. His pupils were still dilated and stared darkly from deep sockets.

Clip felt a sharp twist of guilt; he should never have been a part of causing this boy or Sylvie to suffer. Why did he always allow Magus to over-ride him? Why did he never find the courage to stick to what he knew was right? He stood there indecisively, wanting to get Yul out but frightened of Magus’ reaction if he did so. He was also terrified of Jackdaw. The man was so intimidating and there was something about the way he looked at Clip with such contempt that made him feel uncomfortable and inadequate.

‘Is there anything I can get you?’

‘Food please – I’m very hungry.’

While Clip was gone, having locked the door behind him, Yul reflected on his predicament. His mind was suddenly and completely clear; maybe vomiting had finally flushed his system. He didn’t know what had been happening during the past week, but knew he must escape from this prison before Jackdaw and Magus set to work on him. He shuddered to think what they had in store. Perhaps Tom would help him escape – or even Clip. He’d recognised the look of guilt on the man’s face; maybe he could be persuaded to help.

Clip returned from the kitchens with a plate of sandwiches. He watched in revolted fascination as the boy devoured them, only to be racked by excruciating pain the moment he’d finished. He doubled over, clutching his stomach in agony. Clip stood back in case he was sick again but after a while the danger seemed
to have passed. Yul realised he should’ve eaten only a little and very slowly.

‘I’m feeling a bit better so can I go home now, sir?’ asked Yul casually.

Clip stared at him in consternation.

‘Well … you’re hardly in any fit state to leave.’

‘But my mother will be so worried about me. You’re the master here really and you could help me get home.’

‘I’d like to,’ said Clip hesitantly, ‘but I think Magus wants you here a bit longer. If …’

‘Too bloody right he does!’ said a deep voice.

They both jumped in fright as Jackdaw’s powerful bulk filled the doorway. He was unshaven and the stubble glistened greasily on his jaw and head. His massive arms and chest were exposed by the leather waistcoat he wore, even in this cool weather. His bulbous muscles, covered in writhing tattoos, bunched menacingly. He came inside and sauntered over to where Yul sat.

‘Nice try, kid, but we all know Magus has something in mind for you. The last thing you’ll be doing is going home.’

‘Er, I think I’d better be leaving,’ said Clip, edging towards the door.

‘Sounds good to me,’ said Jackdaw rudely. ‘Here, did you bring him food?’

‘Yes, yes I did. He was very hungry.’

‘Oh, what a shame! You should’ve waited for me. I’d have enjoyed feeding him again.’

Jackdaw lowered his bulk onto a bale, watching Yul closely. His bright blue eyes gleamed; the boy seemed much better now. Clip sidled away and out of the byre, closing the door behind him. Jackdaw smiled, revealing a gold tooth, and Yul eyed him warily, remembering the humiliation he’d endured at Quarrycleave.

‘Just you and me now, mate,’ said Jackdaw. ‘Are you thinking of old times? Because I am.’

Yul nodded and stared down at the stone floor, too frightened to speak and knowing whatever he said would only make things
worse. Jackdaw chuckled, then cracked his knuckles and spat into the corner.

‘It’s good to be back but it’s a pity I ain’t got longer with you. No, don’t look like that, my son! You know you missed me too. It were fun back in the summer, weren’t it? Happy days at ol’ Quarrycleave and now they’re here again.’

Jackdaw fished in the breast pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lighter. He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. He examined the glowing tip speculatively, and glanced down at the quaking boy at his feet.

‘You still look a bit dopey to me, Yul me old mate. After that long sleep I reckon you need waking up good and proper. Yeah? Let’s get that shirt off, then.’

When the all young people had been through the Green Labyrinth, the candles along the path were lit and the adults began their journeys. The afternoon wore on, the light continuing to fade from the sky. Sylvie sat alone outside the Barn wrapped in her black cloak, shivering and watching the amazing spectacle on the Green. The entire labyrinth was ringed with glowing lanterns forming a great circle of light in the dusk. Hundreds of tiny candles in coloured glass jars twinkled amongst the white pebbles. The paths of the labyrinth were scattered with silent figures in black hooded robes, their faces turned to skulls, shuffling slowly towards or away from the wicker tomb in the centre. She shuddered at the macabre sight, and then looked up and gasped.