by Kit Berry
The place held happy memories for Yul. As children he and Rosie had often played here, rolling down into the deep swallets on a carpet of old beech leaves onto the soft bed of moss at the bottom, before scrambling up the sides for another go. His feet now crunched on the beech mast that littered the ground, the cases discarded by squirrels who feasted on the kernels in autumn and winter. Yul remembered how he and his sister had nibbled at the beech seeds, savouring the nutty taste. He must bring little Leveret here, he thought to himself. She’d love it too.
Yul walked reverently through the green, living cathedral listening to the anthem of birdsong. He savoured the incense of the fragrant evening and the majesty of the great trees, their stately pillars and bright canopy more awe-inspiring than any man-made edifice. High above, squirrels performed their acrobatics in the leafy branches. A jay flew by, pink-brown with a black and white flash to its rump and vivid blue-striped feathers on its wings. The woodland grove was alive with creatures and Yul felt at one with Nature, a tiny part of the whole beautiful creation.
He stopped, closing his eyes, and felt again a flicker of the power he’d experienced earlier at the Stone Circle. As the sun set he felt something rise within him, something dark and secret. He smiled to himself. Alwyn and Magus could go and rot in the Otherworld. They might damage his body but they’d never touch his spirit. His body would heal and he’d survive, stronger and tougher because of their cruelty. They’d never, ever break him. Yul laughed out loud as the power prickled through him, his hunger and bruises forgotten.
Then he saw the log lying on the ground and remembered where the woodsmen had discovered the crop of Beechwood Sickener. Fungi had to be searched for carefully; it had a habit of disappearing into the background and becoming virtually invisible. In the failing light Yul hunted for the distinctive red caps, suddenly worried he wouldn’t find them before it became dark. Mother Heggy had insisted they be harvested in the dusk of the Dark Moon.
He found them; a patch of mushrooms truly bright red in colour. How many to pick? He decided on five, being the sacred number of the pentangle, and pulled the bag from his waistband. He remembered tucking it there, and the ensuing encounter with Alwyn. As he harvested the five mushrooms carefully, so as not to bruise them, images from that morning’s beating flashed before him – especially his father’s sweating, excited face and the strange, merciless light in his eyes. White-hot, corrosive fury welled up inside Yul. His fingers shook as he picked the five mushrooms, shook with hatred for Alwyn and a searing desire for revenge.
As he made his way out of the woods with the light almost gone, he heard a strange high-pitched squeaking and smiled to himself. The bats! They’d sensed the deepening dusk and now poured out of several trees in a stream. Tiny black shapes flickered in the gathering darkness, the squeaking becoming louder and louder inside the hollow trunks. Yul stood absolutely still as they zigzagged around his head, never touching him, filling the beech grove with their dark movement. It was as if the bats’ arrival heralded true night, and Yul welcomed them silently.
By the time he reached Mother Heggy’s cottage the stars were glittering. There was no moon at all tonight, of course, and the deep blue velvet sky enveloped Yul like a cloak. He was light-headed with hunger. He held the flaxen bag carefully, tied up with a long string of ivy, and soundlessly approached the ancient cottage. A feeble light glimmered in the window and he smelled sweet wood smoke in the night air.
Just as he stooped to leave the bag on the step, the door creaked open. Mother Heggy stood at the threshold, a shrivelled little hump of a creature, her neck bent up so she could see ahead. She grimaced toothlessly at him and gestured him inside with a clawed hand. The strange smell of her cottage hit him and he felt queasy.
‘Good boy, good boy,’ she wheezed, as she shut the door. ‘Come and sit awhile with Old Heggy and let me look at you. Eh, you’ve been on my mind since you last came. Give me your hand, boy. Let me feel what’s about.’
Yul tried not to flinch as she grasped his hand between her claws. They sat as before, he on a hard chair and she in her rocking chair drawn up close to him. She stroked his hand and crooned harshly to herself, rocking all the time. After a while her eyes shot open, their milkiness quite shocking.
‘So you want to kill the tanner, do you?’
He gasped. How could she have known that?
‘I … well yes, I did think that earlier on. The beatings are getting worse, harder and more painful. And I really can’t take it much harder.’
‘No, and you shouldn’t have to. But you’re already on the road. The Sickeners were picked with hatred in your heart. You’ve felt the power, I know. ‘Tis all starting! Only a few weeks and then ‘twill be you in the ascendancy. You have to hold on, my son of the solstice, and endure. ’Twon’t be long now.’
He was silent, understanding little of what she said.
‘That man Alwyn will suffer, just as he’s made you suffer all these years. D’you want that, Yul?’
‘Oh yes,’ he whispered, his voice trembling. ‘I really want him to suffer. I want that very, very much.’
‘’Tis said now and ‘twill be done. But first you must bring me something of him. Skin, scab, hair or nail. Can you do that?’
‘What? I don’t understand.’
‘Bring me some of his hair or a bit of finger-nail. I need that for the magic to work.’
‘I suppose so. I’ll try.’
‘No, Yul, that’s not enough. You must do it and it must be within the next day, before the waxing of the moon. And … there’s something else.’
She paused, still stroking his hand between her bony ones. He felt so light-headed – was he really here or just dreaming this?
‘You must get out o’ that cottage. Until the magic begins its work, you’re in danger from him. I told you wrong before; ’twas not so clear. But now, at the Dark Moon, I see better. Aye, that Magus is the true danger. But Alwyn has become maddened and ‘twill get worse before the magic starts. You must not sleep in that cottage until I say ‘tis safe to return. Make a nest in the woods and live there. Your mother will provide for you. D’you heed me?’
He nodded, his eyes going in and out of focus as his head swam.
‘And the girl, the newcomer. You must forge the bond stronger. She too is in danger. Someone is trying to trap her, to hunt her. She needs your protection.’
‘I’d do anything for her.’
‘Aye, my boy, you will need to. You and she are the darkness and the brightness and together you must be in harmony and balance. Seek her out and bind her to you. If you don’t, this other one will harm her.’
Yul nodded again and swallowed, his throat like tree bark. Mother Heggy rose stiffly and shuffled over to the back of the room, returning with the stone mug.
‘You’ll feel better,’ she muttered, pressing it into his hands. Grimacing, he raised the mug to his lips and drank. It was the refreshing liquid and it did revive him, hitting his empty stomach and acting fast. She shuffled off again and came back with a small dish of hazelnut kernels and a piece of honey comb. Ravenously he devoured her tiny supper and felt slightly better. Once more she hobbled back with a bowl, but this time told him to take his shirt off. Reluctantly he obeyed. She tutted at the sight of the heavy bruising and gently pasted an unguent onto his injuries. Then she turned him round to examine his back.
‘These latest stripes are from the hawk who hunts the girl. He’s marking his territory. He’s displaying his strength. You must challenge him.’
Yul, his head clearer now that he’d eaten and drunk a little, jumped at this.
‘You mean Buzz will hurt Sylvie?’
His heart raced at the thought of it.
‘Aye, the one as did this to you. But never fear, Yul. You are a hundred fold more powerful than he, though he appears to hold all the power. But you must be aware of the danger, for the girl is defenceless.’
He nodded and realised that despite her grotesqueness and a
ntiquity, he now trusted this old woman.
‘And today you were at the Stone Circle?’
‘Yes, this afternoon.’
‘You felt the power today?’
How could she know this?
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Aye, well enough. Now you know how the magic of the Earth speaks when the Dark Goddess walks. You need to draw on that magic; you have need of much before you’ll be strong enough. You must go to the Circle every day, twice if you can. ‘Tis especially potent at sunrise and sunset. You’ve found the place where you feel the power strongest?’
‘Yes, on the Altar Stone. I seem to be drawn to it.’
‘Aye, the power will call you to itself. That spot is a gateway. The Earth Magic is strong there. Do you feel it anywhere else?’
He thought for a moment.
‘Up at the Hare Stone, but it’s better there for the Moon Fullness. I feel the quicksilver magic up there.’
‘You are the one, Yul! I knew it!’ she cackled triumphantly. ‘Power calls to power. Magic calls to magic. It draws its own to itself.’
‘And Sylvie, she loves it up at Hare Stone too.’
‘Aye, because she shares it with you. She is the Maiden. The moongazy girl come at last to Stonewylde. You must bring her to me soon. I need to see her.’
‘I will, I promise. As soon as I can.’
She stood and picked up the flaxen bag. Unravelling the ivy she peered inside.
‘Good, ‘tis enough. Five is just right. My Raven used to pick these for me.’
‘Your raven?’
‘My little girl. My dearest one.’
Then Yul remembered the story his mother had told him about Mother Heggy and Raven, the orphaned child she’d raised, the strange, wild girl she’d doted on.
‘She was a bright blessed one,’ crooned the old woman. ‘Tiny and delicate like a faerie child. Even when she was grown to a woman, she were still a maiden. She had hair of pure silver, like gossamer silk it was. Her eyes were the colour of moonstones, ringed darker. She were moongazy and fey, ‘tis true, but so kind and gentle. And such powerful moon magic in her. Nobody was more precious or magical than my little Raven.’
Mother Heggy then brought a silver knife with a white bone handle to the table. The great crow hopped over from its roost above the range and strutted along the edge of the battered wooden table-top, watching her movements intently. She placed the Sickeners on the surface and began to chop them finely. She muttered as she worked, seeming oblivious to Yul’s presence. He wondered if he should go; he was so tired and still desperately hungry. He longed to lay his aching body down on a soft bed. Should he go home tonight to sleep, or take Mother Heggy’s advice and stay away? She looked up from her chopping.
‘Aye, boy, you must go now. I have work to do here while the skies are dark and the Goddess wears her black robes. You must return to your mother now for food, but sleep out tonight. Go to the hut in the woods if there’s nowhere else. And return here tomorrow with something from Alwyn. Just a small piece o’ him – something of his life-spiral. You must do this deed, Yul. If you don’t, his cruelty will grow until he has beaten you to death. ‘Tis his destiny, and yours, unless you act now.’
She looked deep into Yul’s eyes as she spoke and he felt again the strange compulsion to do as she asked. He nodded and stood up shakily, flinching as the pain from the blows made its presence felt again. The tiny amount of food she’d given him had made his hunger worse, for his stomach growled and gurgled like a drain.
‘I’ll be back tomorrow,’ he said, and stepped out into the dark, jewelled night.
13
Breakfast the next morning was an embarrassing experience for Sylvie. The talk amongst her contemporaries was mystifying at first, until she realised that the proposed mass exodus to the Great Barn after breakfast was a regular occurrence; a monthly one in fact.
‘We all go down for at least the first couple of days,’ explained Dawn. ‘It’s great – a time for craft-making and catching up on the gossip. All the Village women are there too and we spend the time relaxing and making things for the community.’
‘I love sewing,’ said Wren. ‘I think this month, for the May Dark Moon, it’s summer quilts. There’s usually basket making and rush mats too, if you like that sort of stuff, and embroidery and knitting.’
‘But I don’t understand. Do you mean everyone has their period at the same time?’
‘Of course,’ said July. ‘It’s the Dark Moon.’
‘But how come? In the Outside World everyone has theirs at different times.’
‘Well not here,’ said Dawn. ‘Stonewylde’s different. It’s a special time for us women, the time of the Dark Goddess. So hasn’t yours started today?’
Sylvie shook her head miserably.
‘Don’t worry. It’ll probably come soon, now you’re here with us. When’s it due?’
This was the question Sylvie had dreaded. She stared down at her untouched toast, cheeks burning, and several faces turned to hear her answer.
‘Have you lost track of it?’ asked Dawn sympathetically.
‘No. It’s just … I haven’t actually started my periods yet.’
Holly sniggered.
‘Bit late aren’t you? You’re almost fifteen. I started mine when I was twelve.’
‘Stop it, Holly,’ warned Dawn. ‘Never mind, Sylvie. It’s bound to come soon. You were ill, after all.’
‘I’ve started mine,’ piped Rainbow, Fennel’s younger sister, ‘and I’m thirteen! Poor Sylvie – you must feel such a baby.’
Sylvie kept her head down.
‘Rainbow!’ said Dawn. ‘There’s no—’
‘You’ll be here alone with all the boys then,’ said Holly crossly. ‘Remember what I said to you, Sylvie. Keep your hands off Buzz. I’ll find out if you’ve been up to anything.’
Sylvie looked up at her in consternation.
‘I’m not after your boyfriend, Holly, honestly.’
July and Wren exchanged glances which Rainbow intercepted.
‘So how come you were caught snogging him then?’ she asked. She was precocious and loved mixing with the older girls, who found her outspokenness amusing. As Fennel’s sister she also enjoyed a certain amount of status.
‘I wasn’t!’
‘Rainbow, keep out of this,’ said Dawn. ‘July and Wren got the wrong idea when they saw Buzz with Sylvie. Holly knows that. Let’s get ready to go.’
What made it worse for Sylvie was that Miranda was also going to the Barn. She’d started unexpectedly early, proving Dawn’s theory.
‘I’d better go,’ she said to Sylvie as they stood outside the Dining Hall. ‘It’ll look strange if I don’t. I’m sorry to leave you on your own, darling. But don’t worry. You’ll have a peaceful day here. You can get on with your English essay.’
‘But I’ll be the only girl here over the age of twelve or so,’ said Sylvie miserably. ‘All the boys will know why. It’s so embarrassing, Mum.’
‘You’ll start soon,’ Miranda assured her. ‘Look how fast you’re developing. Really, Sylvie, it won’t be long.’
When the women and girls of fertile age had left for the Village, Sylvie wandered aimlessly about the Edwardian wing, home of the Senior School. The exam students were due to leave Stonewylde soon and most of the teachers were involved in helping with their revision. There were no formal lessons and Sylvie’s year group was expected to continue with course work. She saw a group of boys heading for one of the larger school rooms, and dodging into a doorway to avoid them, she bumped straight into someone coming out. Martin stopped dead and frowned down at her.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ she said, finding his stony stare unnerving.
‘It was my fault, miss,’ he said quietly, standing back to let her into the room. ‘Did you know the others have already left for the Village? If you hurry you’ll catch them up.’
She looked down at the floor.
‘I’m not joining th
em, Martin.’
‘I beg your pardon, miss. I assumed … I’m sorry.’
She glanced up and caught his cold, grey gaze. She felt awkward with him, for he had the silvery blond Hallfolk hair and colouring and yet he was a servant. She wondered, as she’d done before, why Martin wasn’t Hallfolk when he so clearly shared the same genes. Yet he seemed happy with his lot, if a little cold and stiff.
She had to go into the room as he now politely held the door open. Her heart sank when she saw Buzz and Fennel in there. They sat at a table covered in books and revision notes. This must be the most humiliating day of her life.
‘Sylvie! What a nice surprise! Come and join us.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’ll go.’
‘No don’t go. Come and talk to us. We could do with some light relief, couldn’t we, Fen?’
The other youth laughed and stared at Sylvie, his eyes raking her up and down.
‘We couldn’t believe it when Holly said you weren’t going to the Barn,’ he said. ‘Who’d have thought it?’
Sylvie felt her cheeks burning and tried desperately to think of some clever put-down.
‘I don’t see that it’s anyone’s business,’ she said lamely.
‘Of course not,’ said Buzz. ‘We’re just pleased you’re here. This physics revision is so dull. Come and cheer us up.’
‘I can’t. I’ve got some work to do myself.’
‘Bring it in here then! Come on, Sylvie, we’d love your company. You must be feeling lonely with the other girls gone. We’ll look after you.’