by Kit Berry
‘I’ve just seen Mother Heggy’s crow,’ she said, smiling up at him. ‘And Yul, I have to tell you how gorgeous you look today. Although doubtless you’ve already been told.’
He pulled a wry face and sat beside her.
‘Are you sure it was Heggy’s crow? Not just any bird?’
‘No, definitely hers. I can tell.’
‘In that case, we’d better get ourselves over to her cottage. The crow’s her messenger and she sends it to summon me. And you too. I expect she wants to speak to us urgently.’
Inside he rejoiced; now must be the time to remove the spell. He’d become increasingly worried as time was running out.
‘Why does she want to see us?’
‘Let’s go and find out. We’ll leave separately in case anyone notices and I’ll meet you by the rowan tree just before the path forks to her cottage. You go first, Sylvie.’
As they approached the hovel, Sylvie slipped her hand into his and squeezed it, smiling at him happily. He felt a pang of guilt for deceiving her about the purpose of their visit. Sylvie was delighted to see the Wise Woman again and kissed the crone on her withered cheek.
‘I’m so sorry I haven’t been to see you lately, Mother Heggy. I’ve been ill quite a lot and everyone watches me. It’s hard to get away unnoticed.’
‘I know, I know, my little one. But you’re stronger now, and ‘tis why I had to see you. Do you trust me?’
She nodded. ‘Of course I do.’
‘Then you must believe me when I tell you this: you’re under a spell.’
‘What? A spell?’
Yul and Mother Heggy knew from her incredulity that she didn’t believe it. They caught each other’s eye.
‘Clip put a spell on you, Sylvie,’ said Yul gently. ‘It’s to do with the Moon Fullness, and it’s why you don’t come up with me to Hare Stone anymore.’
‘You must be joking. A spell? With a magic wand?’
‘No, no, a spell to make you obey. A spell that speaks to your mind but not your soul. You do what he’s commanded without question,’ said Mother Heggy. ‘’Tis an old trick and Clip has the wisdom for it. He’s done the same to your mother. Mother and daughter both spellbound by that evil pair o’ half-brothers.’
They could see Sylvie still didn’t believe them. Yul took her hand in his and looked into her startled eyes.
‘Sylvie, every time I speak to you about the Moon Fullness, you say exactly the same words. It’s like you learnt them off by heart and you must obey them.’
She frowned as something stirred in her mind. She thought of the rising moon and the first thing that came to mind was Hare Stone. But then the fog came rolling in and she nodded.
‘A black fog that blanks out everything. That’s what I see when I think of the full moon.’
‘Aye! A black fog is right, covering all. Smothering your own desires like a blanket over the face so you no longer breathe freely. Do you know what he forces you to do at the rising of the moon?’ asked Mother Heggy.
‘I … I … I like to dance on the round stone at Mooncliffe. I must share my moon magic with Magus. It’s why I was brought here.’
‘That’s the spell!’ cried Yul. ‘You always use those same words!’
‘Do I? But it’s true. I do like to dance at Mooncliffe.’
‘Sylvie, listen to me, you don’t dance there at all! They put you on the rock and you stand frozen there like a carving. I saw it all last month and it nearly killed me to watch you suffering like that. I could feel your pain. The moon energy pours through you into the rock and they make you stay up there for ages, holding heavy stone eggs to charge them up. There’s a whole crate of them. They feed off your moon magic and that’s why you’re so ill afterwards. They bleed you dry.’
She shook her head.
‘I don’t remember any of that. But really, I do like to dance at Mooncliffe.’
‘So now we must unlock the spell,’ said the old woman. ‘Sit down, my bright one. Sit down and look at Mother Heggy. You must trust me, Sylvie. And trust your sweetheart here. We’d do you no harm and you know that in your heart.’
Sylvie nodded reluctantly, her eyes scared. She looked at Yul and he put his arm around her, holding her tightly as she trembled.
‘I’d never hurt you, Sylvie. I love you. They’re leeches, those men, feeding off your magic. This is for your good, I swear to you.’
Sylvie sat in the chair opposite Mother Heggy and Yul kept a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The crone took Sylvie’s hands and looked into her eyes, and within seconds Yul felt a change in her. She was somehow more rigid, less conscious, although she didn’t look any different. He remembered the power he’d sensed inside the old woman; a power all the stronger for being so well disguised in the withered, feeble frame.
‘You’re a blessed moongazy girl,’ she began, in her high, singsong voice. ‘Blessed by the Triple Goddess at the rising of the Moon Fullness. You are hers – she calls to you and you must come. She calls to your heart and your soul. She’s in your eyes, your moonstone eyes, and she gives you wings to fly and a tongue to sing in her honour. This is what you must do at the Moon Fullness, my little one. Listen to the Goddess calling you, as she’s done since you were born, and obey only her commands.’
She paused, tiny and hunched in her chair, and Yul marvelled again at the power inside such an ancient body.
‘The stone at Mooncliffe is of another power,’ she continue, her voice cracked and reedy, ‘the evil power of the serpent at Stonewylde. In your heart you know ‘tis a place of suffering and malevolence and you don’t truly want to dance there. You must go where the Goddess herself calls you. At the Moon Fullness you must honour the Bright Lady in her special place on the hill with the hares. You must dance only where you feel ‘tis right, not where others force you to go.’
She looked over Sylvie’s head at Yul, her eyes cloudy.
‘Will it work?’ he whispered.
‘Let’s hope so,’ she replied. ‘She must be at Hare Stone for the Harvest Moon. She needs that red harvest magic if she’s to face the dangers that lie ahead.’
The evening party in the Great Barn was riotous. This was the festival for serious cider drinking and as the next day was a holiday, everyone let themselves go. The cider had been brewed the previous autumn for just this event and was particularly potent. Yul had in past years been especially wary of Alwyn at the Autumn Equinox celebrations. The man was renowned both for his prowess at cider consumption and his brutal aggression afterwards, and this year was the first Harvest Festival where Yul could truly relax and enjoy himself.
After the evening ceremony at the Stone Circle the party got underway in the Barn. There were traditional country dances involving circles, lines and arched arms, and Sylvie found herself galloping round the Barn with several different partners. She’d hoped to be able to dance with Yul but he was monopolised the whole evening by girls, both Hallfolk and Villager, who wouldn’t leave him alone. Even when he did break free of them he didn’t dare make any move towards her. Instead he sought refuge with his family whenever possible, and had to content himself with meaningful looks across the floor at Sylvie.
When Magus arrived in the Great Barn a little later, his additional rituals in the Circle over, the atmosphere became even more charged. The apple games, involving bobbing, peeling and passing apples down the line without hands, were a great leveller. Hallfolk mixed freely with Villagers, all laughing riotously as they made fools of themselves. Soon afterwards the children were taken off to bed, then the musicians struck up a lively tune, and the dancing started all over again. It was hot inside the Barn and the great doors were flung open to the starry night. A waxing gibbous moon hung overhead, whilst the bats flickered in the night air devouring midges. People wandered in and out of the Barn to cool off when the dancing and cider became too much, and several people lay outside on the grass completely oblivious.
Magus was on top form. His energy knew no bounds and he domi
nated the Great Barn, the focus of all attention. He was working his way around the dance-floor and Sylvie’s heart sank as he approached and asked for the next dance. He was very hot, his tanned face sheened with perspiration and his distinctive cologne wafted around him, released by the heat from his body. His grip was firm and he smiled down at Sylvie, dazzlingly handsome.
For a moment she almost forgot all she’d learnt that day. His charisma worked its magic even on her, despite knowing the truth about him. His teeth gleamed and his dark eyes danced as he looked deep into hers. Close up like this, in physical contact with him, she felt an inkling of why every woman was so enthralled by him. He exuded an animal lure that was almost overpoweringly sensual, even to a girl as innocent as Sylvie. As he held her to him, his strong hands on her spine and her face close to his great chest, she felt his aura enfolding her, drawing her into its gravity. Her hands were awkward on the back of his damp shirt, trying not to touch him. She trembled as her body and mind sent different messages. But then he brought her back to reality with a jolt.
‘You’re a special girl, Sylvie,’ he murmured, taking advantage of the softer music now playing to hold her close and speak to her as they danced. ‘Truly unique. I’m so pleased you came to Stonewylde. Are you still happy here? I haven’t had a chance to talk to you for ages, have I? You’ve been quite poorly lately, what with one thing and another.’
She stiffened at this, knowing the only thing that made her ill was his greed.
‘Yes, I’m still happy, thank you.’
‘Delighted to hear it. Did you know it’s the Moon Fullness in three nights’ time?’
She shuddered at the mention of it and suddenly a clear memory flooded into her mind. The moon rock and the silver snake of moonlight on the water. The endless needles of pain and the heavy stones in her aching fingers. She trembled violently.
‘Sylvie? What must you do for me at the Moon Fullness, my moongazy girl?’
She looked up and met his eyes; her grey ones were filled with fear, his black ones were piercing. Just in time she remembered the spell.
‘I love dancing at Mooncliffe,’ she said quickly. ‘I want to share my moon magic with you.’
She saw his expression change to one of lazy confidence. He smiled down at her, then bent and kissed her head.
‘You’re a good girl. I’ll let you dance to your heart’s content and you may give me all your moon magic. You know it’s why you came to Stonewylde.’
Sylvie found her knees almost buckling at his words, Yul’s explanation now fully confirmed. This man was evil and she knew without doubt that she was in danger from him. As the music drew to an end, he hugged her tightly, wrapping his arms around her. His scent was overpowering.
‘You really are special, Sylvie. There’s no one else at Stonewylde who can give me what I need. I shall have to take very good care of you.’
When he finally released her, Sylvie stumbled towards the doors of the Great Barn and into the cool air outside. She still shook, overcome with dread at what Magus had in store for her in three evenings’ time. Yul and Mother Heggy had promised they’d prevent him taking her to Mooncliffe but she wasn’t convinced, and was terrified of both Magus and his intentions. He appeared so charming and benevolent but underneath was as cold and cruel as sleet. He manipulated and controlled and fooled everyone. She sank onto a bench outside the Barn and closed her eyes, breathing deeply to calm the trembling. She wanted to cry but knew she must be brave. Everyone around her was having such a good time and if Magus noticed her upset, he may guess the spell had been broken.
She felt the caress of fingertips on her shoulder and looked up into Yul’s smiling face.
‘At last! I thought we’d never get a moment together! Come on, let’s go and find somewhere quiet.’
‘Oh Yul, we can’t, people might notice. Just sit down a minute here and talk – it’ll seem innocent enough.’
He did as she said, but looked at her in consternation.
‘What’s wrong, Sylvie? If it’s because of Holly, I promise that I don’t—’
‘No, it’s nothing to do with her. It’s Magus.’
‘Why? What’s he done?’
Yul had tensed and his eyes flashed as he stared at her. She felt him bristle with anger.
‘He talked about the Moon Fullness and Mooncliffe, and I pretended I was still under the spell. Yul … I’m so scared.’
He reached across and took her hand in his.
‘Don’t be. Mother Heggy has said she’ll sort it out. Whatever happens I’ll make sure you spend Harvest Moon up at Hare Stone with me, Sylvie. I promise you that.’
She gave him a little smile.
‘I know and I do believe you, but I’m still scared. The way he spoke about it … my moongaziness, how much he needs me. He’s so strong, Yul, so powerful and relentless. It’s as if he owns me and I’m only here to serve him. It was terrifying.’
‘Oh Sylvie, you mustn’t be terrified! Please, let’s go under the yew tree—’
He was interrupted by a shriek. Holly appeared with July and Wren in tow.
‘There you are! We wondered where you’d got to! You must have one dance with me, Yul – you promised earlier on and this is it! You always loved the Flying Sheaf. It was your favourite last Autumn Equinox, remember? Come on!’
She grabbed both his hands and pulled him off the bench, the other girls tugging at him too, almost dragging the shirt off his back. They were flushed and intoxicated, their eyes over-bright and their voices shrill. They hadn’t even noticed Sylvie sitting next to him. He looked back apologetically over his shoulder as the girls manoeuvred him back inside the Barn. Sylvie sighed and wished that Holly would trip over her Flying Sheaf and break an ankle.
17
After breakfast the next day, Magus summoned Miranda to his office. She entered the room with some trepidation; there’d been times of late when she felt he didn’t really care for her at all, that he found her dull now she was pregnant and so desperately in love with him. He’d danced with her in the Barn, but then he’d danced with every woman at Stonewylde it seemed, so that meant nothing.
‘You’re looking radiant, Miranda,’ he said, patting the leather sofa by way of invitation. She sank down next to him, her heart quickening hopefully. ‘Pregnancy really suits you. I meant what I said last night at the dance – I’ll have to keep you constantly pregnant. Would you like a string of little blond haired children? Seven, as so many of the Village women have? I’m sure it could be arranged!’
She laughed, slightly embarrassed, and snuggled up against him.
‘I think I’m a little old now for seven more children.’
‘Not at all! You’ve plenty of fertile years left and you obviously find it easy to conceive. One a year and you’d still be under forty. You’re in full bloom, Miranda, like a luscious fruit ripening.’
He’d thrown an arm around her and his hand idly stroked her breast, fuller than usual because of her pregnancy. He spread his other hand across her belly, pressing firmly.
‘Have you felt the baby move yet?’
‘Not yet.’
‘It shouldn’t be long now. I was thinking about you in bed this morning, Miranda, and—’
‘Were you really?’ She flushed with pleasure at this.
‘Yes, I was thinking that it must’ve been about the time of the Autumn Equinox that you conceived Sylvie, if she was born at the Summer Solstice.’
She nodded, laying her face in the strong hard hollow between Magus’ arm and chest, breathing in his scent. She craved his affection more than anything else in the world; she longed to captivate and enthral him so he wanted her and no one else. He felt so solid and powerful, almost vibrating with energy. When she was close to him like this she felt herself drowning in a dark well of want and need. She loved him with blind obsession – nothing else really mattered. His frequent indifference to her only fuelled her longing and made her more desperate for his attention. Being cuddled up
to him like this was pure, utter bliss.
‘I think, Miranda, that the time has finally come for you to tell me all about it,’ he murmured.
She tensed.
‘I think I have a right to know. So tell me now – who was Sylvie’s father? How did you fall pregnant so young?’
‘Please, Magus, I really don’t want to talk about it. It upsets me and—’
‘I think you’re forgetting something,’ he said very softly, his fingers still fondling her breast. ‘I know best and you always obey me. Remember?’
She nodded again and swallowed.
‘You never defy me or go against my wishes.’
She shook her head miserably.
‘No, of course not, Magus. It’s just … I’ve kept everything buried inside for so many years and I really can’t bear to talk about it. I’ve never told anyone exactly what happened.’
‘But I’m not just anyone, am I, Miranda? And you don’t want to make me angry again, do you?’
Miranda felt herself splitting inside; a new force had entered the sphere of her resistance and pulled at her free will, compelling her to obey.
‘No, Magus,’ she whispered. ‘I only want to please you and make you happy.’
‘Good,’ he said smoothly, stroking her collar bones and the soft skin of her throat with a rhythmic touch. ‘That’s as it should be. So tell me about Sylvie’s conception; I want to know the whole story, every detail. This is not a request, Miranda, it’s an order.’
Falteringly, she told him everything she could remember about that night, sixteen years ago, when she was taken into the woods by a stranger. There wasn’t much to tell because the whole incident had happened so quickly. Magus listened carefully.
‘The red full moon must’ve been the Harvest Moon. And you didn’t see his face at all?’
‘No, he wore a mask like everyone else at the party. It was a big charity function at a country house, a masked ball in aid of a Third World fund-raising trust or something. I don’t think I ever knew why we were going – my parents never explained things to me. I was just expected to do as I was told, speak when I was spoken to, that sort of thing.’
