by Kit Berry
‘What’s the matter, darling?’
‘It’s just tonight, Mum. I must go to Mooncliffe and dance.’
‘Oh yes,’ agreed Miranda. ‘I’ve been so worried about that. But Magus says it’s what you must do, and he does know best. Did you know that his mother was affected by the full moon too? Apparently some people at Stonewylde are. He’ll take care of you. I mustn’t interfere.’
She lay back in the grass and closed her eyes, her thoughts a little jumbled. She sighed; it was so peaceful up here.
‘I love you, Mum,’ said Sylvie suddenly, squeezing her mother’s hand.
Miranda turned her head on the grass and looked into her daughter’s clear grey eyes, so beautiful and strange.
‘I love you too, Sylvie, my special girl.’
‘Mother Heggy, you’ve got to help me!’ Yul stood in the doorway of the hovel and the smell billowed out to hit him. She glared at him from her rocking chair.
‘Brought back my bottles and corks, have you?’ she squawked. ‘No! And you didn’t come to see me, did you? But now ‘tis the Moon Fullness and you realise you have none o’ the knowledge yourself, oh aye, now you come here with your tail between your legs!’
She glared at him, although he doubted she could actually see him at all.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, worried that she’d turn him away. ‘I’ve been so busy with the harvesting and helping at home. I thought you’d be able to undo the spell before this Moon Fullness.’
‘Did you now? Well come in and shut the door!’ she snapped irritably.
He sat down opposite her, trying not to recoil from her stale odour. How could Sylvie not be repulsed by her? She cackled, and too late he remembered her uncanny knack of reading his mind.
‘Can you sit still awhile so I can read you? Or must I make you as stone?’
He remembered the potion she’d given him on his first visit and quickly shook his head.
‘No, I promise I’ll sit still.’
She cackled again and pushed him back in the seat with a bony claw. She hunched forward in her chair and regarded him intently. He felt the tug of her milky eyes, and then of something deeper, something powerful.
‘Quiet now,’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘Quiet and still. Let your mind float free. Let the white swan glide in the misty waters.’
He felt his heartbeat slow down, his mind relax and slip away to the place between waking and sleeping where all is hazy and everything is possible. His breathing became deeper; his eyelids drooped shut. She took his hands in hers …
His head was filled with a sudden vision of crimson and black swirling in a vortex, a silver light glistening, and then feathers everywhere, black feathers falling and falling, a tiny, white baby and a crow on the cradle. Mother Heggy snatched her hands away, muttering sharply. His eyes flashed open and he stared at her, jolted back into reality. He saw how the shadows had moved across the room and knew she’d been reading him for quite some time.
‘Well, well, so much has happened. Poor Mother Heggy. Not many visitors nowadays, nobody to tell me what is abroad. But now I’ve seen all that has passed. I understand the spell they put on the bright one.’
‘Can you break it, Mother Heggy?’ he asked urgently. ‘Tonight – she’ll go up there tonight if you don’t do something.’
She nodded, sucking her gums and rocking.
‘Aye, I know that, boy. But I cannot break the spell for tonight. You must go to Mooncliffe and see what is happening with that evil man. ‘Twill be hard for you. You must watch your girl suffering and you must do nothing. Don’t try to stop it tonight for the time is not yet right and you would fail. You must watch but you must be hidden. When you came at Lammas I was afeared. The dark glass showed me what he did to her. I feared for her life, like my precious Raven before her. But now I see more clearly. There’s danger, real danger, but you’re far stronger than I’d thought and I have faith in you, my young Holly King. The Goddess has chosen wisely. The magic will be safe with you.’
Magus and Clip strode into the rooms at the end of the Tudor wing as the sun was dropping in the sky. The nights were beginning to draw in, dusk coming earlier as summer came to an end, although tonight it was very warm indeed.
‘We’ve come for Sylvie,’ said Magus briskly, walking straight through the sitting room and towards the bedroom.
‘Of course,’ said Miranda. ‘She’s rested and ready, as you said.’
‘Glad to hear it,’ said Magus.
Clip gave Miranda a little salute, which she ignored. Sylvie was sitting on her bed, her eyes vacant. Tears rolled down her cheeks but she was silent. She wore the moongazy dress and her hair floated around her bare arms and shoulders in a silver cloud. As the men walked in she raised her eyes to them. The tears spilled over and caught on her dark lashes.
‘She’s so very lovely,’ said Clip softly.
‘Never mind about that,’ said Magus. He took her hands from her lap and tugged her upright. ‘Come, my moongazy girl. It’s late and you’ve work to do tonight.’
Yul was hidden behind the bracken alongside the path. Gnats danced on the cliff top and swallows swooped, feasting while they could before their long journey ahead. The stone disc was rosy in the setting sun’s rays, the brightness also reflected on the opposite horizon where the moon would rise, tinting the whole sky. It was a bloody sunset, the sky a burnished gold, and the heat pressed down, stifling and close. The still air was oppressive and Yul was sweating. He was scared; not of Magus, but of being unable to control himself. Mother Heggy had stressed how important it was not to act yet, but could he bear to watch Sylvie suffer at Magus’ hands?
He heard them coming before he saw them.
‘Goddess, we’re late.’ It was Magus’ deep voice. ‘Look, the sun’s set already. Come on, Clip, hurry up!’
Clip led the way with Magus behind him, carrying Sylvie. Yul’s heart wrenched at the sight of her lying in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder and her hair hanging down. Magus reached the top and put her down quickly. She stumbled as she tried to find her feet and then stood like an automaton. Yul remembered how she usually behaved at this time, just before moon rise; full of energy and fidgety, jittery with anticipation.
‘Remember what I said,’ said Clip, talking as if Sylvie couldn’t hear them. ‘No eggs and not too long on the stone. No more than half an hour.’
‘Oh come on, she can do a few eggs. Just to replace the ones I’ve used.’
‘Absolutely not, Sol – we agreed! She’s just not strong enough this month. You were too greedy last time and she can’t take it again so soon.’
‘You’re being ridiculous, Clip. She’s fine now. Look at her – of course she can take it.’
‘She’s been ill for most of the month! I’m warning you, Sol, you’ll damage her if you overdo it and then there’ll be no moon magic at all.’
‘Alright, alright. We’ll compromise. Just one hour with six eggs and then we’ll let her off the rock. But you must promise me she’ll do the full load next month, whatever happens. I’ve got some people interested in the eggs. Is that a deal?’
‘Oh I suppose so,’ sighed Clip. ‘But six eggs at the very most, and if she gets distressed then I’m taking her straight home.’
Yul was sickened by the way Magus spoke as if she were nothing, just a commodity to be used. How could the man be so heartless? While they were distracted arguing, Sylvie had slowly turned towards the sea, gazing out at the pinkness that heralded the first glimmer of moonrise. Her arms began to lift but it was her singing that roused them both.
‘Quick! It’s rising!’ shouted Magus, grabbing her round the waist and almost throwing her up onto the disc. Again she stumbled and he jumped up next to her, pulling her into the centre. Her arms had dropped and she stared at the horizon, making a strange, horrible mewing noise. It was nothing like her ethereal singing at Hare Stone.
‘Are you coming up too?’ Magus asked Clip.
‘No, it was t
oo strong last time,’ he replied. ‘I’ll wait till the moon’s risen a bit and she calms down.’
‘Well I’m going to try and stay on this time. Here we go!’
The pink rim of the moon was just visible and Sylvie had begun to shake and vibrate, her body jerking uncontrollably, her face contorted. Yul had to close his eyes. He thought of her tiptoe dancing, leaping with the hares, skipping around in the grass, and then this – standing on the hard stone, being pounded and shaken by a force of immense magnitude pouring through her body. He understood what was happening straight away; the great stone was wrenching the moon energy from the night sky, dragging it down hard through her frame and into the rock at her feet. She took the full force of it and couldn’t move; she simply had to endure. Yul felt the tears hot on his cheeks and fought down the sob threatening to fly from his throat. This was far worse than he’d imagined. He’d have done anything to stand there instead and take the pain for her.
Magus stood next to her, blasted with the force that came back up through the stone and into his body. He shouted in exhilaration as if on a roller-coaster ride, his arms outstretched and head thrown back. But a few moments later he jumped off the stone.
‘Sacred Mother, that’s too much! I thought my heart would give out. That is so powerful!’
Clip lay on the grass with his toes touching the stone, an expression of ecstasy on his face. Magus unlocked the chest and brought out six stone eggs, which he placed next to the disc of rock.
‘I’ll load her up in a minute, when it’s less intense,’ he said, joining Clip on the grass. Yul could feel Sylvie’s suffering; the sharp, shooting needles that darted through her and down into the rock below her feet. He saw her glowing, the silvery threads chasing over her skin. She’d closed herself away, retreated into some tiny, hidden place where the pain couldn’t touch her so badly. Yul tried to embrace her in his mind, tried to comfort her. He too almost drifted away from consciousness in his fierce attempts to reach Sylvie in her hiding place.
He was brought back to reality by Magus’ voice.
‘I think she’s ready to charge the eggs now.’
‘Alright, if you’re sure she’s okay. How long have we been here?’
‘I’ve no idea. My watch always stops up here at moonrise. But it’s fine – she’s doing well so don’t worry.’
He climbed up onto the stone and put two of the heavy eggs in her hands. Yul could see how they started to glow almost immediately as the force shot down through her arms into the greedy stone. Her severe jerking had stopped now the moon had risen above the horizon and lost its pink-gold colour; instead she merely trembled and shuddered. Yul closed his eyes, wishing desperately to relieve her of such pain.
Magus changed the eggs over after a while and both men climbed up onto the stone, spreading themselves out on it. Sylvie remained standing, staring up at the moon with unseeing eyes. Yul was sure that an hour had passed and he felt his anger, clamped down tightly inside, begin to bubble up. When Magus changed the eggs again, Yul realised he’d never had any intention of keeping to the agreement. Clip, for all his earlier solicitousness, appeared to have forgotten about Sylvie and her suffering. He was having too good a time soaking up the moon magic. As Magus put the new eggs in Sylvie’s hands, she turned her eyes to him. She’d left her hidden place and felt the pain shooting through her body. Her arms and fingers ached terribly and Yul willed her to drop the eggs, but her fingers were frozen into position.
‘Please let me stop now,’ she whispered to Magus. He smiled at her in the moonlight, his hair shimmering almost as brightly as hers. He shook his head and put his finger to his lips, glancing down at Clip.
‘You bastard!’ thought Yul, longing to leap out and hit him over the head with his stone eggs. But Clip heard something, for he opened his eyes and sat up.
‘Goddess, I must’ve been in a trance,’ he mumbled, staring around him in the bright moonlight. ‘I meant to keep a close eye on Sylvie this time but that moon magic just sends me off to another realm. I’m sure we’ve been here longer than an hour, Sol. Why didn’t you wake me?’
‘Don’t be a fool,’ laughed Magus. ‘See, she’s fine – much better than last month. Your hypnosis really helps her, so no need to worry yourself.’
‘That’s good. Come on then, let’s get her down and take her home.’
‘Just five more minutes,’ said Magus. ‘Remember, she does love to dance at Mooncliffe.’
He laughed again and Yul found it almost impossible to control his pure, white-hot hatred.
*
Later, Yul followed them back to the Hall at a distance. Sylvie was delivered to her bedroom via the private staircase and both men left. Yul saw her mother moving around in the dimly lit room upstairs. He knew there was no point going home and trying to sleep as he was boiling over with anger. He seethed with it; a molten rage that ran through his veins like poison. He knew that if he were to bump into Magus now, he’d try to kill him. He wasn’t rational in any way. He’d had to endure watching Sylvie being abused by Magus, used for the man’s own gratification and then laughed at in her weakness. It was more than he could take.
Yul ran from the Hall and headed for the Stone Circle. In the light of the brilliant silver-gold moon, now riding high across the night sky, he could see perfectly. He pushed himself to his limit, trying to blot out the images of Sylvie’s suffering. His legs pumped like pistons as he raced up the hill. The great stone dance was silhouetted against the silvery night sky, the dark shapes blotting out the stars. He slowed down just before he reached the circle and tried to calm his emotions, knowing he should enter the sacred space with reverence. But he couldn’t. His hatred for Magus was too intense and all-consuming to be pushed aside so soon. He stepped into the arena with his heart pounding from the punishing run, his veins pulsing with fury and the desire to kill. He stood in the centre of the circle not wanting any energy tonight from the Altar Stone. He already seethed with an excess of energy that chased around his body searching for an outlet. As the moon poured quicksilver into the circle Yul raised his face to the bright disc and howled.
The rage and frustration, hatred and blood-lust came cascading from him in a torrent. It hung in the hot night air, eddying about with nowhere to go. Then, slowly, Yul started to move, pacing around the edge of the circle. He prowled silently and purposefully, circling inside the circumference of the great stones still adorned with corn dollies and images of the Corn Mother. Gradually he picked up speed, loping round and touching each stone as he passed. Moonlight and shadow flickered on him as he ran faster, light and dark, silver and black, like a strobe on his face flashing into his soul. Round and round he raced, his pain and rage spiralling into the centre of the Circle. A great vortex of emotion started to build, a flickering carousel of anger and passion.
He didn’t see the inky clouds piling in from the west. They rolled in fast, building and climbing on each other, great towers of swollen blackness growing in the sultry August night. Still Yul ran, his body slick with sweat, curls stuck to his head. He wrenched off his restrictive damp clothes as he ran. The night air clung to him, oppressively hot and heavy against his bare skin. The hair on his body tingled. He felt a strange lifting in his heart as if his breath itself was charged with particles of rage.
He raced one final, mad circuit of the Stone Circle, stirring the power and energy into a maelstrom of wild and uncontrollable passion. He felt it building inside him, climbing, towering, piling up. With a shout he broke away from his track and lunged full pelt for the Altar Stone. He sprang onto the great stone with a mighty leap and turned to face the moon, his body thrumming and throbbing with a dark, negative charge. He roared and roared, the sound pouring from him in a blind flood of wrath. At that moment the heavy black clouds billowed across, blotting out the moon and plunging the arena into utter darkness.
There was an earth-shattering crack as the skies and the boy released their fury in unison, all the elements as one. A great pil
lar of lightning slashed down to earth accompanied by an explosion of thunder strong enough to rouse the dead. Yul screamed in wild glory and again the lightning forked down, hitting the hills in the distance. Flash followed flash, the blue-white light blindingly intense, searing the eye. Pure volts of vicious energy discharged themselves from the skies and blasted the earth below with their violence.
Completely exposed to the elements, Yul stood astride the stone with his arms outstretched to the heavens. His dark curls corkscrewing with static, he threw back his head and laughed. He shouted, screamed, yelled, bellowed – his tiny sound drowned by the great anger of the elements, the rage of the thunder as it rolled and rumbled around Stonewylde. And then came the rain. It hit Yul’s hot skin like burning nails, driving hard into every inch of him, bouncing off his skin with such force that he felt punctured. He raised his face, tipping his head right back and letting the needles of water wash away the sweat. It ran in torrents through his curls, down his body, washing and cleansing him with its fierce drumming. He was caught in a waterfall of rain. Gradually the downpour turned cold as the heat and energy of the storm dissipated, its force spent. Yul’s roars turned to cries and then to sobs, and he howled once more into the drenched night. Howls of pain and sorrow, howls of anguish and torment for the girl he loved but couldn’t protect from the man who abused her.
Just before dawn, the cold boy lying crumpled on the Altar Stone was awoken by a pecking on his arm. He opened his eyes blearily, unable to focus properly, and saw the crow perched next to him. It blinked and let out a loud caw. He pushed himself upright, his head spinning and his body wracked with tremors. Slowly he levered himself off the stone, stumbling as his bare feet hit the wet earth below. The crow flapped off and he followed it, falling and tripping, as it took the short cut to the sanctuary of Mother Heggy’s cottage.
After the night of the Corn Moon Sylvie rested in her Tudor bedroom for a few days, spending most of her time asleep or sitting by the window in a daydream. She wasn’t as weak as the previous month, having been allowed down from the stone before she collapsed. Miranda took care of her and Magus looked in to check she was alright, pleased that Hazel wasn’t needed this month. Clip too was delighted that she seemed stronger than the month before, but he still irritated Miranda with his frequent visits to sit with Sylvie.
