Solstice at Stonewylde

by Kit Berry

  She noticed Rosie getting a drink from the bar and stood up, swaying slightly.

  ‘I’m just going to speak to someone, Mum.’

  Miranda nodded.

  ‘Alright, and then we’ll go home. I’ve had enough and I’m sure Magus won’t mind us leaving, seeing as he appears to have already left himself.’

  Rosie was pleased to see Sylvie but concerned that she looked so ill.

  ‘It’s okay, Rosie, I’m off to bed in a minute. But I wanted to ask you what Yul’s doing up at the Stone Circle tonight. Is he alright? I’ve been having some really strange thoughts …’

  Rosie frowned.

  ‘The Stone Circle? I don’t know, miss. I haven’t seen him since the last Moon Fullness ‘cause he’s been at the Hall ever since. We’ve all been very worried. So you ain’t seen him neither?’

  Sylvie shook her head, dread growing inside her.

  ‘Magus told me this afternoon that Yul was fine, although Tom from the stables told me earlier that Yul was in a bad way. And Magus definitely said that Yul was going to the Stone Circle tonight.’

  ‘Well, our father’s up there. He’s a Death Dancer and he’ll meet the Dark Angel tonight. ‘Tis time for him to let go of life and pass on into the Otherworld, but not Yul … I’m really scared, miss. Something’s not right here.’

  The two girls stared at each other, their eyes wide with fear, united in their concern for Yul.

  ‘I think he’s in danger,’ said Sylvie. ‘I felt it a moment ago. He’s trapped somehow and can’t escape.’

  Rosie nodded.

  ‘I think you’re right and I’ll find Mother now and tell her. Are you alright, miss? Take my arm a minute – you look so faint.’

  The girls held on to each other whilst all about them, the community whirled around in a mad carousel of music and laughter. Sylvie was pale as death, Rosie flushed and agitated. She patted the older girl’s arm reassuringly, alarmed at her unsteadiness.

  ‘You go on to the Hall now – there’re horses and carts for Hallfolk outside so don’t try to walk, will you? I’ll let you know what happens somehow, and don’t worry, miss, I promise we’ll find Yul.’

  The first sled had reached the centre of the labyrinth. The elderberry wine and potion had effectively paralysed Yul. He showed no more signs of life than the other four bodies, except for his eyes. As his sled lurched along its tortuous path, his beautiful grey eyes were once again wild and dilated, darting around to watch terrors both real and imagined. At last his sled entered the area in the centre and he was pulled around to face the pyre.

  Seated on the top was a gruesome figure; a crone dressed in shreds of grey rag that hung from her sagging body. Her wiry hair sprang madly from her skull in long grey skeins. She wore no mask, but white unguent of some sort had been rubbed into her skin which gave her a cadaverous look and accentuated the wrinkles and seams that furrowed her face. Her toothless mouth was a cavernous hole, her eye-sockets pools of shadow. She held a lantern on her lap which shone up into her hideous face, creating macabre shadows. She cackled as Yul was turned to face her, and even in his hallucinatory state he recognised the evil laughter of Old Violet.

  Magus, Jackdaw, another hag and a crow-masked figure stepped forward, and Jackdaw, who now wore a death mask, climbed the wooden steps to the flat summit of the pyre. He stood behind the crone, enormous and dark, his arms raised, whilst Magus, the hag and the crow man began to slowly circle the centre around the sleds and pyre, chanting to the drum beat. It was very dark, for there was no extra light and the torches on the stones only lit their immediate area. The cold was intensifying as the night grew later and mist curled in wisps just above the ground, glowing red above the tiny lights.

  ‘You’ve completed the Dance of Death,’ intoned Magus, ‘and reached the Gateway to the Otherworld. The dead await, peering through the veil to see who approaches. They are beckoning, inviting you to join them. Death is merely a rebirth into another world and now is the time to let go your hold on this life and move on to the next.’

  He paused, looking up at the sinister figures of Jackdaw and the old woman on the pyre.

  ‘It is almost the hour of midnight. The old year is dying, the new one beginning, and the Dark Angel draws near. He alone will decide who accompanies him to the Otherworld. The Dark Angel alone will choose. Now is the time for the living to leave this circle and return to their realm. Bearers, depart!’

  The bearers left the centre in single file and wended their way back around the path of the labyrinth. Finally they arrived at the edge of the Stone Circle, joining up with the others there – the drummers, singers and a few relatives of the dying people. Someone in robes started to organise a procession back down along the Long Walk as it was the custom to leave Magus and a couple of acolytes up in the Circle, alone with the dying. Nobody wanted to be in the Stone Labyrinth at midnight for the summoning. There were whispered tales of things that had happened over the years, and nobody wished to encounter the Dark Angel and look him in the eye.

  Magus and the attendants who’d remained in the centre all now stood on the pyre platform. Yul could see the five of them clearly from where he lay helpless, hallucinating and in a state of terror. They seemed huge and grotesque so high up above him.

  ‘By the power of the sacred Stone Circle and the wisdom of the dark birds, I summon the Dark Angel to the portals of this world!’ called the crow-masked man, and Yul recognised Martin’s voice.

  ‘As the Crone of Samhain, I call on the Dark Angel as the veil stretches thin!’ cried Violet, her withered arms upraised and face hideous with excitement. ‘We summon you now to this Stone Labyrinth. We ask you to take these souls with you tonight to the Otherworld.’

  ‘These five are ready and they await your presence this Samhain,’ said Martin, his robe flapping like wings as he moved his arms. His beak nodded upwards repeatedly in exactly the movement of a crow.

  ‘We summon you to the Circle tonight to take these five souls!’ croaked the hag hoarsely. ‘Take them tonight, Dark Angel!’

  Vetchling, Violet and her son Martin bowed to Magus and made their way down the steps to the ground. They joined the others at the arch of elder leading out into the Long Walk, and only Magus and Jackdaw now remained with the five bodies. Yul glanced around as far as his eyes could move, for his head wouldn’t turn at all. He knew that Magus and Jackdaw would soon leave too, and then the Dark Angel would come. And then he’d die.

  Just as the procession was about to leave, there was a commotion under the Long Walk trees. Magus looked up sharply and in the flickering torchlight made out the figure of a woman. She was pulling at the bearers and drummers, pushing at the crone and her sister who blocked the entrance. The woman was held fast by the crow man but still tried to get into the labyrinth. She shouted and cried, and even in his drugged state, Yul recognised his mother’s voice. He struggled to move, to show her where he was, but despite his very best efforts he couldn’t move a muscle. He heard her calling him, her voice frantic.

  ‘Bloody woman!’ hissed Magus. ‘What the hell’s she doing here?’

  ‘Shall I go and deal with her?’ asked Jackdaw quietly.

  Magus hesitated.

  ‘No, Martin seems to have hold of her and I don’t think she’d actually dare come in here anyway. It’s a sacred space and she knows that.’

  Yul’s slow heartbeat had quickened slightly. Maybe he had a chance after all? Could she rescue him? But he thought of Jackdaw’s brutality and knew the man would have no qualms about hurting a woman if Magus gave him the opportunity. The images swirled around in his brain but the effects of the elderberry wine seemed to be diminishing slightly, for he was thinking a little more clearly now.

  ‘Magus, have you got my boy in there?’ Maizie called desperately. She was surrounded by the bearers who barred her way, and Martin still restrained her. The two old women capered about, plucking at her shawl and poking her. Magus straightened to his full height on the pyre, facin
g her across the great radius of the Circle, the paths of the labyrinth flickering with the tiny red lights. The centre was dark and Maizie couldn’t see clearly what was there. Who exactly lay on the sleds.

  ‘It’s not the custom to come here and question the magus at Samhain, at this crucial moment in the ritual!’ he called sternly. ‘You’re disrupting our ceremony and you’ll answer for it tomorrow.’

  ‘Have you got my son in there?’ she called again, ignoring the threat as if he hadn’t spoken.

  ‘I have your husband Alwyn here,’ said Magus, ‘and you’re disturbing his journey to the Otherworld. Do you have any idea how serious this is? Have you forgotten how—’

  ‘I don’t care! Have you got my son in there? That’s all I want to know and I won’t go until you’ve told me the truth!’

  Her voice was shrill with fear and anger. Magus swore softly.

  ‘Just lie to her,’ said Jackdaw quietly.

  ‘She knows I’ve got him,’ replied Magus. ‘Somebody’s told her.’

  ‘Let me go and deal with her,’ repeated Jackdaw. ‘It’ll only take a minute to shut her up and then she won’t bother you again.’

  ‘No,’ said Magus. ‘That wouldn’t go down too well in the Village. It’s alright, I can put her off.’

  Yul lay as if made of stone, praying that his mother wouldn’t be put off.

  ‘Maizie, listen to me,’ called Magus, in his most reasonable and conciliatory voice. ‘I have got Yul here. He’s eaten something bad, a poisonous mushroom or something, and he’s very ill. He can’t move and he’s dying, I’m afraid.’

  There was a loud shriek of anguish and Yul heard her sobbing.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she cried. ‘Why didn’t you come and get me? Has the doctor seen him? How could you bring him to the Stone Labyrinth without letting me know?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Maizie, it all happened so quickly. The doctor said he can’t possibly survive so I thought it best for him to leave us tonight at Samhain, with proper ceremony, and meet the Dark Angel.’

  Yul could hear his mother sobbing and crying, screeching her grief and desolation. His heart felt as if it would break at the sound of her suffering. Then suddenly her sobs quietened.

  ‘No!’ she cried. ‘No – that’s not right. You told Sylvie that he were fine this afternoon, but you said that Yul would be up here tonight. How did you know that? You lied to her and you’re lying to me! I don’t believe you, Magus – my boy’s not ill at all!’

  She started to struggle again. Martin and the bearers did their best to hold her as she flailed her arms and tried to wrench away from their grip, and Magus swore viciously.

  ‘Maizie,’ he called sadly, ‘I promise you I’m not lying. Ask Martin – he’s only just left the labyrinth and he’s seen Yul. The boy’s completely paralysed. You know how fast poisonous mushrooms can act. He’s only barely alive and his breathing’s very slow. I’m afraid to say he really is dying and it won’t be long now.’

  ‘NO!’ she shrieked. ‘I never gave my permission for him to enter the Stone Labyrinth! ‘Tis forbidden to take anyone in there without their closest relative’s say so and I never agreed! I want him out now! Now, Magus! If my Yul’s dying I want him to die in my arms, not in there with those old bodies. You bring him out!’

  ‘I can’t do that, Maizie.’

  ‘Yes you can! I want to hold my boy one last time.’

  ‘I can’t bring him out, Maizie. It’s just too late and—’

  ‘NO IT’S NOT! You need my permission to have him in there and I don’t give it! I don’t give it, Magus! I’m going back to the Village now and I’ll bring all the folk up here and let them see what you’ve done! You took my son in there without my agreement and everyone will know!’

  She was almost screaming with hysteria, a heady mixture of panic and fury. Magus swore strongly again and Jackdaw fidgeted, begging permission to silence her once and for all. Magus stayed him with one hand and took a deep breath. He looked down at Yul. The boy lay like a corpse but his dilated eyes were wide open and watching everything. Magus smiled at Yul. In the flickering light his face grinned with wicked glee, like the Jack o’ Lanterns painted on the stones.

  ‘Maizie, listen to me,’ he called. ‘Stop shrieking and listen. I didn’t ask for your agreement because I didn’t need to. I decided to bring Yul in here tonight and I gave the permission myself.’

  ‘You can’t do that!’ she screamed. ‘You can’t do that, Magus!’

  ‘Oh yes I can!’ he shouted back, triumphantly, still staring down at Yul. ‘I can because I’m his closest relative too. I’m his father!’

  Yul thought his heart had stopped in his chest. Magus his father? Could he be? He heard Maizie howl in anguish, a cry of pure pain as if someone had stabbed her.

  ‘NO! You can’t do this, Magus! How dare you do this now, at such a time? How can you be so cruel?’

  She sobbed uncontrollably, unable to speak any further. With his eyes swivelled as far as they could go, Yul saw her sink to her knees, head in her hands. He knew then, with awful certainty, that it was true. Magus, this sadistic tyrant who’d so relentlessly singled him for punishment and humiliation, was his father. Magus laughed, the sound ringing out around the great stones.

  ‘But I thought that’s what you wanted? You said so earlier today, and now I’ve acknowledged Yul as mine at least he’ll die knowing who his father was.’

  Maizie sobbed even louder at this.

  ‘Go back to the Village, Maizie! You’re not permitted to stay up here as the moment of midnight approaches. Come back in the hour before dawn with the other relatives, and then we’ll know whether or not the Dark Angel has chosen to take our son to the Otherworld.’

  Yul saw the group leave, surrounding his distraught mother and bundling her away. She was crying pitifully, overwhelmed with anguish. His hopes plummeted even further into utter despair. Maizie’s arrival and her pluckiness in challenging Magus had been his only hope, but Magus had managed to fool her. He felt a surge of pure hatred for the man he now understood had fathered him – his vile cruelty was almost beyond belief. Yul was sure now that he’d die here tonight; he was so cold with no way of getting his circulation going. He realised then that the thin tunics would always ensure death for the old and sick.

  ‘Do you want me to stay on here, sir?’ asked Jackdaw, climbing down from the pyre.

  ‘No,’ said Magus. ‘Go up to my office and I’ll meet you there. I want a word with this boy first, just the two of us. I’ll join you in a while and we’ll have a drink and warm ourselves up. There’s brandy in my office – Martin will show you. We don’t need to return here until early in the morning, and I’d rather not spend any more time than I need to in the Circle at Samhain. Just so long as we’re back here before all the relatives turn up, that’s fine. Bring the cauldron over before you go, would you?’

  Jackdaw passed him the cauldron and ladle and left.

  Magus walked around the sleds feeling for a pulse in the neck of each Death Dancer. When he came to Yul, he crouched down. His fingers lingered, stroking the boy’s throat almost tenderly.

  ‘Well, son, here we are then, just you and me,’ he said softly. ‘Was it such a shock to learn that I’m your father? Did you never guess? I’ve spent all your life denying it but now you’re about to die, perhaps it’s time to finally acknowledge the truth.’ His long fingers caressed Yul’s windpipe. ‘I hold your life in my hands. A tiny squeeze and it’s snuffed out forever.’

  His fingers paused, pressing slightly and then a little harder. Yul thought that this was it, but Magus released the pressure and continued to stroke Yul’s neck.

  ‘You began life in this Stone Circle and you’ll be ending it here too very soon. The circle of life … I remember the night you were born – what a night that was! And you’ve been the angel of my nightmares ever since, haunting me at every turn, never out of my thoughts or dreams. I’ve watched you grow up, Yul. I’ve looked on as Alwy
n tried to knock the spirit out of you and break you. This year I’ve seen you turn from boy to man and challenge me as nobody else would ever dare, just as it was foretold. Old Heggy was right all along. It’s strange – no member of the Hallfolk even begins to measure up to you and I almost feel proud of you. You’re so very like me, flesh of my flesh.’

  He sighed deeply, running his fingers over Yul’s hollowed face, pushing the tangled curls back from his forehead. He reached across and took a ladle of the rich elderberry wine. He sipped it, savouring the heady taste, then knelt and lifted Yul’s head, cradling it almost lovingly. Yul’s eyes were locked in to his, staring in terror at this new facet of Magus. This apparently tender side scared him more than the cruelty.

  ‘It should be easy to end your life now, Yul. I gave you life one magical night under a brilliant Blue Moon, when I took your mother’s virginity. And I should be able to take your life away so easily – just a little pressure here would do it. You’re very cold now, aren’t you? Your body’s shutting down and your pulse is so slow and weak. But I can’t do it – not because I care and not because I don’t want to. Believe me, your death is something I’ve dreamed about. But all these years you’ve been protected by that crone Heggy, bound by her spell, cast here in the Circle on the night of your birth.’

  Yul looked up at him in amazement. Protected by Mother Heggy? Magus must have read something of the boy’s surprise in his eyes, for he chuckled.

  ‘No, I don’t suppose you knew about that, did you? Thanks to her I can’t take your life, much as I long to, because if I were to kill you the Dark Angel would take me too. That’s the binding spell Heggy cast and it’s the only reason you’re still alive today. But tonight – this is different. It’s not my doing if you die this Samhain. It’s the Angel himself who’ll decide your fate.’

  Still Yul stared, unable to move or look away. He felt the man’s power as he cradled him, the native force within him that was nothing to do with Sylvie’s moon magic. Magus eyes, so dark and bright, gazed down into his and Yul sensed the iron will in his father’s soul, the hard determination that drove him on, the absolute faith in his own strength and superiority.