Magus of Stonewylde Book One

by Kit Berry

  She felt a tap on her shoulder and spun round to see Yul standing in the shadowy darkness. She beamed at him.

  ‘I’ve been looking for you all evening!’

  ‘Well here I am.’

  ‘How are you feeling? Is your back alright?’

  ‘It’s fine. As I said, I’ve had a lot worse.’

  ‘It certainly didn’t stop you this afternoon! You were great at the games.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re such a fast runner. And the tree climbing event! Wow!’

  ‘Well, I am a woodsman so I should be good at that.’

  ‘And then you beat Fennel at the hurdles and he was so sure he was going to win!’

  He smiled at her, the memories of the successful afternoon blotting out the earlier incident.

  ‘Are you coming in to the dance?’ she asked hopefully. She imagined Yul would be much lighter on his feet than Buzz. He shook his head.

  ‘No, I’m keeping out of everyone’s way. My father’s had a bellyful of cider and I don’t want to bump into him. And as for Buzz and his gang – they probably see me as unfinished business. So I’m going to disappear now. I just wanted to catch you first to ask you something.’

  Her heart skipped a beat and she smiled at him expectantly.

  ‘Do you want to go up to the Hare Stone with me tomorrow night?’

  She looked away in embarrassment. Of course – it was the full moon tomorrow. The excitement of Beltane had pushed it to the back of her mind.

  ‘I … well, I’m not sure.’

  ‘It’s just that I was worried about you wandering in the woods alone. I thought you might like me to guide you up there again. But it’s alright if you don’t want to.’

  ‘Yes, I mean, no, I do … oh, I don’t know!’

  ‘Listen, Sylvie. Magus is over there and he mustn’t see me talking to you. I’ll be waiting in the woods tomorrow, just before dusk. If you don’t come, that’s fine. But I’ll be there if you need me. Blessings!’

  He melted into the darkness and Sylvie returned to the Barn. But somehow, knowing that Yul had left, the evening lost its magic for her.

  In the end she had no choice in the matter. As dusk approached the following evening she felt the familiar rising of tension and pressure within her, the desperate need to get out into the open air and up somewhere high. Her fingertips tingled, her heart palpitated and her mouth was dry. Dimly aware of what she was doing, Sylvie removed her shoes and slipped out of the door. Her mother was conveniently out with Magus this evening, on the closest she’d managed to a date with him, any full moon worries forgotten in her excitement.

  Sylvie wandered down the path and out of the gate, turning towards the woods. She stepped from the golden blue dusk into the darker shadows and then a new shadow joined her. A woodland spirit materialised from the trees – Yul! He smiled at her, his teeth white in the gloom, and she smiled vaguely back at him with unfocused eyes. He recognised the signs and this time boldly took her hand. Her slim hand was cool and dry in his and together they walked through the woods. The light was fading fast around them, the birds heralding the approaching dusk with glorious song.

  It is time! The Lady approaches in silver splendour. I shall dance with feet of feathers and wings of thistledown. Hurry!

  They came out of the wood onto the hill and climbed swiftly up to the standing stone. Sylvie lifted her arms to the heavens, the strange humming rising from her throat. Yul once again felt his arms prickle and his back go cold. It was almost unearthly, as if she were some kind of moon angel unfurling her wings and singing in celestial voice. The moon hadn’t quite appeared. There was a pink glint on the horizon across the purple folds which foretold the imminent rising. The sky was a beautiful violet blue and still light, from where the sun had set behind them.

  Noiselessly, a great white shape appeared out of the woods, passing by in front of the pink rim of the rising full moon. Yul’s heart leapt as he realised it was a barn owl. Silently it glided past, its face turning this way and that as it peered to see the field down below. Sylvie emitted another strange sound. Rather than being scared away, the barn owl flew closer and circled them with soft pale-feathered wings. Still Sylvie called, not imitating the owl but singing her strange moon song. The moon rose steadily, losing its bright pinkness as it cleared the horizon. Then Sylvie was off, her feet skimming the grass.

  It was dark now and Yul sensed the hares in the long grass below. The owl drifted about the hill, gliding in and out, calling with its eerie voice. And Sylvie flew around, her silver hair gleaming in the moonlight. Yul sank down against the stone, careful of his back. He felt humbled watching this magical girl and the creatures she’d summoned. The quicksilver moondance wove its web around him and he felt something deep inside start to melt. He knew that Sylvie was very special – a moongazy girl. He felt such a strange tugging at his heart when he looked at her or even thought of her. He’d do anything to protect her, anything at all. He’d die for her if he had to.

  Later, when she’d moongazed for long enough, he took her hands and raised her up from her kneeling position. The hares lowered their heads from moongazing too, pricked up their long ears and twitched their whiskers. The owl had gone, but earlier had landed on the stone itself, its heart-shaped moon face staring out at the silvery scene below. Yul had never seen anything like it. As he helped her to stand, Sylvie threw her arms around his neck, embracing him in a fierce hug. He shuddered at the shock of her cold body pressed up against him so tightly. Happiness almost choked him as he returned the hug. Then she released him silently, took his hand in her icy one, and together they walked down the hill. The hares around the stone were left alone to their moon vigil.

  *

  The next morning Sylvie lay in bed looking at the bright blue sky outside. She could hear birds singing in the woodland trees and cows lowing from nearby pastures. She felt at peace, for she’d honoured the moon last night and was now free and released for the rest of the month. Downstairs, Miranda too was singing. It was very early and she was brimming with joy. She laid the table for breakfast, wanting to chat to Sylvie before they went to the Hall for school. When it came to it, however, she didn’t know where to start. She wasn’t even sure if she ought to speak to Sylvie about this, but there was no one else to confide in and she was bursting to tell someone.

  ‘You were late back last night, Mum,’ said Sylvie, buttering her toast.

  ‘Yes, I was. I was with Magus.’

  ‘Yes, you said.’

  ‘I mean, I was on my own with him.’

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘Just the two of us.’

  ‘Mmn.’

  ‘Sylvie, I’m trying to tell you something.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, we were alone together, like on a date really. And we … well, it was very romantic.’

  ‘Mum! Did you get off with him?’

  Miranda blushed schoolgirl scarlet at this.

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  Sylvie shrieked with laughter, which wasn’t the reaction Miranda had expected at all.

  ‘That’s gross!’

  ‘Sylvie, don’t be so unkind. For goodness’ sake, I’m only thirty, remember. It’s quite normal behaviour for a single woman, you know.’

  ‘And how old is he? Getting on for forty?’

  ‘He’s in his late thirties and that’s not old at all. Just right for me in fact. Stop being so horrible. Do you want to hear what happened or not?’

  ‘Well, yes, up to a point. But no revolting gory details, please.’

  Miranda poured some more coffee and settled into her chair.

  ‘Well, we had a picnic supper.’

  ‘How sweet.’

  ‘Yes, it was. First we went for a lovely walk down on the beach and then we climbed up the path onto the cliff-top. It’s a really special place. There’s a great flat rock up there overlooking the sea. It’s enormous, round and white like the moon itself. There was a beautiful
woven blanket, all spangled with stars, spread over the rock, with silk cushions and candles in lanterns. And there was a picnic all ready for us, and even champagne in an ice bucket.’

  ‘Laid out by magical elves?’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Obviously one of the servants had prepared it all for us beforehand.’

  ‘Ooh, one of the servants. How posh.’

  ‘Stop teasing, Sylvie. Anyway, we ate the picnic together and drank the champagne, and watched the sun setting far out to the west. The sky was beautiful. There were swallows swooping above us and I felt so happy. And then …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘He kissed me.’

  ‘What, just like that?’

  ‘Oh, it was so romantic, Sylvie! The sky was blue and gold, and then the moon started to rise over the sea, all pink and glittering. He was so gentle, so loving. I just melted.’ She sighed dreamily, her eyes faraway. ‘And one thing led to another, and … well …’

  ‘You didn’t, did you? Mum!!’

  Sylvie was really shocked. Miranda looked away in embarrassment, realising too late that she really shouldn’t be discussing this with her daughter who, after all, still wasn’t quite fifteen.

  ‘I really do care for Magus, Sylvie. It’s not a casual thing. I think … I think I’ve fallen in love with him.’

  ‘Mum, that’s ridiculous! You’ve only known him a few weeks. Just because he made sweet lurve to you on a cliff-top in the moonlight, you can’t honestly believe you’re in love with him. You’re behaving like a kid.’

  Miranda burst into giggles at the incongruity of this. The situation was absurd.

  ‘Seriously, I’m really pleased for you, Mum, and it’s lovely to see you so happy. Just don’t get hurt, please,’ said Sylvie. ‘I’m sure Magus likes you very much, but I doubt he feels quite the way you do. I mean, he’s the king here, isn’t he? I’d have thought he could have any woman he wants.’

  ‘And he said he wants me.’

  ‘Yes, for now. But it probably won’t last and I don’t want to see you upset. And I really don’t want to have to leave Stonewylde because you and he have fallen out.’

  ‘I promise that won’t happen. If I see he’s not as keen as I am, I’ll hold back and I won’t make a fool of myself. I’ve managed all these years on my own. I still can.’

  Sylvie gazed at her mother across the table. Miranda was different this morning. She was languid and at ease, softer around the edges. She even moved differently. There was such a change that it worried Sylvie. She thought about Yul’s warning.

  ‘I don’t want to burst your bubble, Mum, but I should tell you something. About Magus.’

  Miranda’s eyes shone and a little smile played on her lips.

  ‘Yes? Go on then. We can talk about him all morning as far as I’m concerned. He’s such a gorgeous, unique, special, wonderful—’

  ‘No, Mum, please be serious and listen to me. It was when I was with Yul at Beltane up by the Stone Circle. I won’t go into all the details, but Yul warned me about Magus. He’s not all he seems. He’s treated Yul badly. Yul said—’

  ‘No!’ Miranda’s dreamy expression had vanished and she glared at her daughter. ‘I don’t want to hear anything that boy’s told you! We know he’s not to be trusted.’

  ‘But Mum, Magus slashed him across the face with his riding whip. And—’

  ‘Stop it! How can you say anything about Magus after all he’s done for you? How can you even repeat such lies, let alone think they might be true? Magus saved your life, Sylvie, I’m sure of it. If we hadn’t come here, you’d have been taken back to that hospital sooner or later and I really think it would have killed you. And look at his generosity! This lovely cottage, the welcome he’s given us, my job and a first class education for you.’

  ‘I know, Mum, I know. I’ve thought of all that too. I’m not against Magus. It’s just—’

  ‘Then you should remember who deserves your loyalty, and not listen to a pack of lies. You’re to keep away from that boy, Sylvie. He’s evil.’

  10

  Miranda needn’t have worried about Sylvie seeing Yul; he was busy working in the woods almost every waking hour and had no time to seek her out. One beautiful May afternoon the woodsmen sat in the clearing around their hut finishing their lunch and drinking tea. A couple of men had lit up pipes and some of the older ones were gently snoozing in the warmth, making the most of the last few minutes of their break. Old Greenbough drained his mug and called Yul over.

  ‘You can run an errand for me this afternoon, boy. A nice trip out, as you’ve worked well this morning.’

  Yul smiled at this; he was trying hard to get back into Old Greenbough’s good books. Winning the tree-climbing competition at Beltane had helped, and he was really putting in the effort at work.

  ‘I found a lovely little crop o’ Beechwood Sickener this morning up along the swallets. I want you to pay a visit to old Mother Heggy and tell her.’

  Yul gulped, but was determined to show willing.

  ‘Yes sir, I’ll do that. Beechwood Sickener – that’s the red mushroom, isn’t it? With a sweet smell?’

  ‘Aye, that’s the one. Smaller than Fly Agaric, and a shorter stalk. Quite rare here, and I happen to know Mother Heggy used to value those mushrooms very highly for one o’ her concoctions, back in the old days. Don’t know if she still uses the things, but you tell her we found a good crop today. Tell her if she wants ’em picked we’ll do it for her, right enough. But I have a feeling they must be picked in the waxing or maybe even Dark Moon, so you tell her we ain’t touched ’em till we gets word from her. You got that, boy?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Good lad. You’re a bright boy, Yul, too bright for us really. Don’t quite know why you ain’t up at the Hall with them clever ones. ‘Tis a mystery to me.’

  ‘I failed the tests, sir, that’s why.’

  Old Greenbough peered at him through bushy grey eyebrows.

  ‘I know you failed the tests, Yul. Question is, why? ‘Cause we both know you could’ve walked them tests. You’re brighter than most of them Hallfolk put together. Still, if you choose to be one o’ us, I ain’t complaining. You’re a strong lad and a hard worker, and you’ve a feel for the trees that I ain’t seen in a long time. Just you stay out o’ trouble and you’ll do well. Now go on with you, boy, and when you’ve seen Mother Heggy, take the rest o’ the afternoon off.’

  ‘Thank you, sir!’ Yul grinned.

  Yul climbed the path leading out of the Village and up towards the cliffs. He reached a fork in the track, marked by a stunted and grotesquely twisted hawthorn, and knew that this was where he must turn off. He hesitated, nervous about meeting the oldest inhabitant of Stonewylde whom people spoke of with hushed voices. Sitting on a branch of the strange hawthorn, where even the blossom was blighted, was a large black crow.

  As Yul approached, the crow shuffled and fussed, flexing out its wings and opening its beak in a silent squawk. He stopped and stared at it, wishing he’d never been sent on this errand. The crow seemed hostile – malignant almost – as if it didn’t want him to pass.

  ‘I’ve come to see Mother Heggy,’ said Yul, glad no one was about to hear him addressing a bird. ‘I bring a message from Old Greenbough.’

  The crow let out a noisy caw and, in a messy fashion, launched itself from the branch. It flapped off along the path which Yul must now follow, disappearing from sight around a bend. Yul duly followed it and finally reached the place that he’d been told never to visit. Mother Heggy’s home was strictly off limits to every child in the Village and most adults too. Yul swallowed hard.

  The tiny cottage was ancient, its thatch green and rotten and the cob walls tumbling apart in places. It spoke of neglect, which was unusual at Stonewylde. A thin wisp of smoke rose from the chimney so Yul knew Mother Heggy was in. He certainly couldn’t have told from looking in the windows, which were very small and so thick with grime as to be opaque. He forced himself to knock on the
bleached wood of the old door, hoping she wouldn’t hear him so he could leave without seeing her.

  ‘Lift the latch and come inside!’ called a high, creaky voice.

  The cottage smelled musty and strange. It was dark and at first Yul could see nothing other than the dull glimmer of copper pots on the walls and a meagre fire smouldering in an inglenook. He blinked, looking around for her.

  Mother Heggy sat hunched in a rocking chair. She wore a shapeless sack of a dress that almost reached her cracked ankle boots, with a ragged grey shawl pulled around her and a battered hat on her head. She was very old and very ugly. She had a broken clay pipe clamped in her shrivelled mouth, from which came a ribbon of foul-smelling smoke. She sat in the corner like a baleful spider waiting in her web, and Yul’s skin prickled with apprehension. She gestured with a claw for him to sit in the wooden chair opposite her, where a little light fell from the window.

  ‘Bright blessings, Mother Heggy,’ he began politely.

  ‘Blessings to you, Yul of the Winter Solstice.’

  ‘You know who I am?’ he asked in surprise.

  She cackled and sucked noisily on her pipe.

  ‘I should do! I were the first person on this Earth to set eyes on you, son o’ Maizie.’

  ‘What? You know my mother too, Mother Heggy?’

  ‘Aye, I knew Maizie right enough, and a fine young girl she was. A fine woman too, so as I’ve heard. Too fine for her own good, that one. Especially in the spring time when the hares are leaping and the moon is ripe.’

  Yul thought her mind must be wandering.

  ‘Is the little sister growing well?’

  ‘Er, yes, she’s fine. She works at the dairy.’

  ‘Not her! The tiny one, born at Imbolc. Little maiden.’

  Yul frowned. She must mean Leveret, the youngest in the family.

  ‘She’s very well thank you. She’s two years old now.’

  ‘Aye, she would be. Two years at Imbolc. And you’re coming up to sixteen this Winter Solstice. Who’d o’ thought it? Nearly sixteen and I remember the night you were born.’