Solstice at Stonewylde Page 8

  ‘Oh please, don’t think of me as Hallfolk,’ replied Sylvie, unsure how she should address Yul’s mother. ‘I really hate all that stuff and I’d much rather live in the Village and be one of you. I’m not very popular up at the Hall – I don’t belong there at all.’

  Maizie nodded at this and handed her a heavy pottery mug of warm rosehip tea.

  ‘Yul says that you’re one of Magus’ victims too. He’s told me about your moongaziness and I’m sorry you’ve suffered so much, my dear.’

  ‘Thank you, though it’s nowhere near what poor Yul’s been through at his hands – at least Magus wants me alive. That man has a lot to answer for.’

  ‘Aye, he has!’ agreed Maizie, her face grim. ‘And he will answer for it too, I’m sure o’ that.’

  *

  Sylvie managed to spend quite a bit of time with Yul over the next few days, snatching precious minutes alone with him in the cottage as his mother went about her daily routine. Sylvie dashed down to the Village every day when her lessons were finished, ostensibly on a healthy walk, and soon found she was warmly greeted by everyone she met. Word had spread that she was Yul’s sweetheart even though she was Hallfolk, and this latest titbit fuelled gossip even further, as everyone was already reeling about the revelation that Yul was Magus’ son.

  Sylvie still found it hard to accept, although it was now so obvious. Their difference in colouring had masked the likeness between them but she wondered why nobody had realised before. She discussed it with Yul on one of her visits, not sure how he felt knowing that their enemy was in fact his father.

  ‘In some ways it’s a relief,’ he said. ‘It explains so much – I’ve spent my whole life wondering why Alwyn hated me.’

  ‘So he knew all along?’ asked Sylvie.

  ‘Mother says it was impossible for my father to be anyone other than Magus. She and Alwyn didn’t get together until after I was born, though she was forced to say they had. Apparently Alwyn had been keen on her for ages but she never liked or encouraged him. He was very jealous of Magus, but he was a Villager and couldn’t compete with the master. Village men keep away from a woman if they know that Magus is interested.’

  ‘How mediaeval – the droit du seigneur. But why did Alwyn pretend you were his when he knew you couldn’t be?’

  ‘Magus insisted. It was all part of the deal. After I was born he ordered Maizie and Alwyn to be handfasted straight away. Mother told me that she fought it of course, and at first refused to lie about whose son I was. But Magus turned really nasty. He publicly denounced her and denied fathering me, saying he’d been tricked by her. What could she do? She was only a young girl and everyone practically worshipped Magus for coming back and setting Stonewylde to rights.’

  ‘Your poor mother – that must’ve been so humiliating and hurtful.’

  ‘Yes, especially as apparently they’d been really close before, though I really can’t see that myself. I just can’t imagine Mother and Magus as a couple.’

  ‘People change,’ said Sylvie a little sadly, thinking of her own mother. ‘They were probably very different in those days. But what about Alwyn? Surely he argued about having to pretend you were his baby?’

  ‘Alwyn accepted it because you don’t question Magus – and he was delighted to take Mother for his wife. He’d been after her for a long time but she’d always turned him down, so this was wonderful, having her handed to him on a plate. But he hated having to acknowledge me as his son and he took it out on me because he couldn’t take it out on Magus. I suppose it’s understandable.’

  ‘No it’s not!’ said Sylvie fiercely, remembering the bruising and scarring she’d seen on Yul and realising that was just the tip of the iceberg; the emotional scars must go even deeper. ‘It’s child abuse and that’s never understandable! It wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘True, but Mother said every time Alwyn looked at me he was reminded of Magus, as apparently I’m so like him. Alwyn started mistreating me when I was still very young and Mother was terrified he’d go too far one day and kill me. She begged Magus to take me in as a Hallchild but he refused – I suppose because it would’ve looked like perhaps I was his after all.’

  ‘That’s awful,’ said Sylvie. ‘To know that physical abuse was going on right under his nose but not put a stop to it – that’s really terrible.’

  ‘Mother says Magus never said anything to Alwyn – never told him to lay off me or control his violence. So it was clear Alwyn could do whatever he liked and Magus wouldn’t interfere. It was as if Magus wanted me dead, and of course now we know he did.’

  ‘And it’s all because of this prophecy?’

  ‘Yes. And Sylvie, you have to go and see Mother Heggy. I’m not allowed out of the house yet, and my mother’s been through so much recently I don’t want to upset her by disobeying her. You know Alwyn died at Samhain? It was no great loss and I won’t pretend I’m sad, because I hated him. But it’s not so easy for Mother – despite everything, they were handfasted for years and he fathered my brothers and sisters.’

  ‘Are they alright?’

  ‘Yes!’ he chuckled. ‘He might’ve been their father but they hated him too. They had to watch him beating me, remember, and they were terrified of him. Please go and see Mother Heggy, Sylvie, today if you can. The crow keeps visiting me and pecking at the window and it’s driving Mother mad. She really doesn’t like anything to do with Old Heggy. She even told Gregory to take a pot shot with his catapult!’

  ‘I’ve seen the crow too so it must be a summons. I’ll go right now and make up some excuse for being late back.’

  ‘Could you take her some of the things people have brought me? We’ve got so much jam and wine and cake and she’d appreciate some treats, poor old thing.’

  The crow was hopping around outside as Sylvie left with a laden basket for Mother Heggy. It flapped up onto her shoulder, cawing loudly in her ear.

  ‘Yes, I understand,’ she said with a smile as it scrabbled to hold on. ‘I’m on my way.’

  It stayed with her for some time as she walked through the Village, gripping clumsily onto her jacket. Several Villagers noticed and pointed it out to each other, remembering the crow on Yul’s shoulder at the Summer Solstice ceremony. They knew it was Mother Heggy’s creature and many made the sign of the pentangle in the air and touched their chests. The Villagers understood that Yul and Sylvie were under her protection.

  ‘My little bright one!’ crowed Mother Heggy at the sight of Sylvie on her doorstep. ‘At last you’ve come. And only just in time, for ‘tis the Dark Moon tomorrow.’

  She pulled Sylvie inside the smelly cottage, shooed the cat off the chair and sat her down. The crow hopped about on the table after a scrap of meat as Sylvie handed over the basket to the old woman.

  ‘Very tasty too,’ cackled Mother Heggy, smacking her shrivelled lips as she rummaged about inside it. ‘And how is my boy? Does he heal well? I been sending reviving potions for him.’

  ‘Yes, but … he’s changed. There’s something different about him and I don’t think that will heal.’

  ‘No, ‘twon’t. He saw the Dark Angel at Samhain and he’ll never be quite the same. There’s a shadow on his soul now, but ‘twill make him stronger and he’ll need that strength. We’re on the final path now, Sylvie. You know Sol must die, and ‘twill not come about easy. Yul will need all his power and energy so tell him to get up to that Circle just as soon as he can.’

  ‘You’re not saying that Yul is actually going to kill Magus?’ asked Sylvie, shaken at the thought. ‘Surely that isn’t right? I mean … well, I don’t know if Yul would do that, or even if he could do it.’

  Mother Heggy shrugged, peering myopically at a jar of bramble jelly she’d unpacked from the basket.

  ‘I don’t know how ‘twill happen,’ she said finally. ‘I only see so much. The old prophecy came to me like a thunderbolt when the boy were born, and ‘twere clear enough. Yul is the fruit of his passion for sure, the child conceived under t
he blue moon and born under the red moon. In the brightness at the darkness – that’s the full moon at the Winter Solstice, the darkest day. So ‘twill be this Solstice, when Yul becomes a man.’

  ‘How do you know it’ll happen this Solstice?’ asked Sylvie, still unsure quite how the lunar cycle and festivals fitted with each other. ‘Is is always the full moon at the Winter Solstice?’

  ‘No, ‘tis rare for both to fall together at the same time, but this year ‘tis the Moon Fullness on the eve of the Solstice. It don’t happen very often like that and ‘tis right it should be this year, when Yul reaches sixteen. Life is full o’ these things happening all together in strange ways that don’t seem possible.’

  ‘Like a pattern you mean?’

  ‘Aye, exactly like a pattern. Yul will rise up with the folk behind, and aren’t they all gathering behind him now? At the place of bones and death – we know where that is, right enough. ‘Tis six weeks to the Solstice. But Sylvie,’ she gripped the girl’s arm with her claws, peering almost sightlessly into her eyes, ‘there may be a prophecy from long ago but … Yul will rise up, without a doubt, but that don’t mean he’ll be sure to succeed, nor even survive. For I seen something else of late, but ‘tis not clear.’

  ‘Something else? What sort of thing?’ asked Sylvie, wondering if it was to do with Magus’ dreadful plans for her every month.

  ‘There may be more than one death this Solstice,’ muttered Heggy, her rheumy eyes gazing blankly. ‘I see the number five, always five. But ‘tis too many! Not five deaths, surely? I cannot see who must die, but I know one thing for sure. You and Yul are in great danger from Sol. Do you understand, girl? The magus is evil and Yul would’ve died at Samhain but for my Raven. I summoned her back through the veil to aid him and ‘twas down to her that the boy survived. Has he told you my girl was there in the Circle with him that night?’

  ‘No,’ replied Sylvie with a shudder. ‘He’s hardly spoken about it, though he has terrible nightmares every night he says.’

  ‘Aye, the Death Dance will haunt him for some time to come, poor boy, and maybe for the rest of his days. Well, you must listen to old Mother Heggy, my silver one, and do as I say. The prophecy may yet go unfulfilled and that’s what Sol will hope for. He’ll do everything in his power to stop it coming about as I foretold, and if he can get past the Winter Solstice, he’ll be safe. The prophecy will lose its magic once the Solstice is passed and then Goddess help us all. We only have one chance and we must fight him, we who stand against him. Are you with us?’

  Sylvie nodded, her eyes wide with apprehension.

  ‘I love Yul. I’d do anything to stop Magus from hurting him.’

  Mother Heggy pursed her lips at this and patted Sylvie’s smooth hand with her withered one.

  ‘Much will be asked of you, my bright one, almost too much. You must be brave and strong. ‘Twill be a cage of sorrow for you, a cage that binds the silver nightingale with bars of gold. You’ll see, you’ll recall my words when you’re captive. And the first task, the first thing you must do, is this: bring me something of Magus – hair or nail. I need something of his body for my spell.’

  Sylvie looked sceptical but Mother Heggy was unperturbed.

  ‘You don’t believe but ’tis of no matter. Just bring me something and you must, without fail, bring it tomorrow. ‘Tis the Dark Moon and the spell must be cast tomorrow night, when the banishing is at its most powerful.’

  ‘I won’t be part of murdering anyone,’ said Sylvie a little shakily. ‘I love Yul and I want to help, but—’

  ‘You’re as much a part o’ this as Yul or me or Sol or anyone at Stonewylde,’ snapped Mother Heggy tetchily. ‘You were part of it from the moment you were conceived in the woodland under the red Harvest Moon, so don’t go soft now you’re needed! You ask your mother – she knows right enough ‘twas no ordinary conception.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mother Heggy,’ said Sylvie, her mouth trembling. She still felt fragile and so frightened. ‘It’s just the thought of causing someone’s death …’

  Mother Heggy regarded her with a toothless grimace.

  ‘Nobody said ‘twould be an easy path to follow, but if you love the boy you must do what has to be done. Now, we have two more weeks till the next Moon Fullness and we cannot let Magus feed on your moon magic again.’

  Sylvie closed her eyes wearily, sick of the whole thing. Stonewylde had seemed like heaven on earth when they’d arrived here but now it was just a battleground.

  ‘Aye, ‘tis that,’ said Mother Heggy, with her uncanny knack of reading thoughts. She pulled her filthy shawl closer around her bony shoulders and cocked her wizened head at Sylvie. ‘And who do you want to win – Sol or Yul? Father or son? If you fail to get me what I need for my spell tomorrow, then the boy may well die at his father’s hand this Solstice. The very spirit of Stonewylde will be broken, I can promise you that. And your life will be a misery o’ pain.’

  *

  Sylvie stumbled back up the track to the Hall as the early November darkness closed in around her. The fallen leaves made a soggy carpet on the ground and several times she skidded and slipped, for she was always clumsy at this time of the month. Rooks cawed noisily around her, their voices raucous and abrasive. It was cold and damp and she was scared. How was she going to find Magus’ hair or nail clippings? He was still away, but it might’ve been easier if he were around. She’d have to look in his rooms, and although she knew where they were of course, she’d never been anywhere near them before.

  She was terrified at the thought of what she must do, and even more scared of Mother Heggy’s talk of death. She still hoped that this terrible struggle between Yul and Magus could somehow be resolved peacefully. It was all very well believing in an old prophecy that spoke of rising up and overthrowing, but now that the reality of just how this was to be achieved was looming closer, Sylvie was very frightened. Magus had already proved that he had no qualms about resorting to violence, but she wanted none of it and was sure Yul didn’t either. And as for Mother Heggy’s remarks about five deaths … Sylvie shuddered at the thought, and opening the garden door to their wing, climbed the dark stairs to her bedroom, grateful as ever to have a private entrance.

  Miranda looked up from her knitting as her daughter entered their small sitting room, rosy-cheeked from her walk. Miranda sighed, rubbing her swollen belly. The baby was very active today and had had the hiccups this afternoon, which had been extremely uncomfortable. She was sure the baby was a boy and imagined him as a tiny Magus, complete with silvery-blond hair and brown eyes like dark chocolate. She was missing Magus and longed for his return; he’d be pleased with the way she was handling Sylvie. Her daughter was responding to the new, strict regime and had really knuckled down, eating properly and making progress with her schoolwork in the evenings.

  ‘Why are you back so late?’ Miranda asked sharply, anxious to keep Sylvie firmly in line. ‘It’s dark outside and you’ve been gone for ages.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum – I lost track of the time.’

  ‘Well don’t do it again, Sylvie. You won’t be allowed out at all if you can’t manage your time and come home this late. Go and get on with some schoolwork before supper.’

  Sylvie shrugged and went back into her bedroom, closing the door on Miranda and her huge bulge. She’d never thought they’d be like this, having always been so close. She’d lost her loving, friendly, funny mother and it made her so sad. Everyone was against her, not only her mother, but the teachers, her tutor, the doctor and all the other Hallfolk. Everyone was on her back, sniping and criticising, and now she had this request to worry about. Would Yul really die if she didn’t help with Mother Heggy’s spell? Sylvie couldn’t quite believe it but didn’t dare risk not doing her bidding just in case the old woman was right.

  Sylvie sat with Miranda in the dining room, picking at her meal and far too nervous tonight to enjoy the food. Since her mother had started watching every mouthful she swallowed, eating had lost all p
leasure anyway. They were surrounded by other Hallfolk, all talking and laughing together at the long tables whilst the servants scurried about, refilling plates and glasses and ensuring the Hallfolk had everything they needed. During the meal Sylvie felt Holly and her gang, a few tables down, staring at her and whispering. Holly had gathered quite a crowd over the past few months; Rainbow and the younger Hallfolk she’d teamed up with during the summer term were now joined by her original gang, including July, Wren, Fennel and some of the older boys. They were a large and noisy group and Sylvie felt uncomfortable knowing they were talking about her and glowering her way. Holly was very open about it. Her dark eyes held contempt and undisguised scorn as she glared insolently at Sylvie. Her pretty face twisted into an expression of malice whenever she caught Sylvie’s eye, and she flicked back her thick, shoulder-length hair in a gesture of challenge. Sylvie sensed that Holly was building up to a major confrontation, and dreaded it. She knew how Holly had decided to make a play for Yul at the Autumn Equinox, and how he’d brushed her off. Sylvie now wondered if Holly had somehow found out about her and Yul’s relationship, which would explain this increase in hostility.

  Sylvie kept her eyes down and tried to avoid any kind of nonverbal contact with anyone on Holly’s table. She had far more important things to worry about tonight. As the pudding was served, Sylvie sensed a good opportunity to visit Magus’ rooms. All the Hallfolk were in the Dining Hall and would be for some time as coffee was also served in here, and the servants were busy with the meal and clearing away.

  ‘Would you excuse me please, Mum? I don’t want any pudding and I have to do some research for my coursework. I’ll see you later.’

  ‘Have some pudding first, Sylvie.’

  ‘Honestly, Mum, I’ve had enough. You know I’ve put on weight and Hazel’s happy with my progress. And you know I don’t like lemon meringue pie very much.’

  ‘Have cheese and biscuits and some fruit then,’ said Miranda with a frown.