Magus of Stonewylde Book One (30 page)

‘I’ll be back for Lammas,’ laughed Buzz, extricating himself from Holly’s grasp. ‘Nothing could stop me coming home for the cricket match!’

Sylvie tried to shrink into the wisteria as he approached but couldn’t avoid him. She saw Holly over his shoulder watching with narrowed eyes.

‘Take care while I’m away, Sylvie,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Remember what I said about keeping away from that Villager. I’m sorry I won’t be back for the Summer Solstice and your birthday, but this chance to visit South Africa with my mother is too good to miss. Have a lovely summer and think of me. I’ll see you at Lammas!’

To her relief he only patted her arm; anything more would have enraged Holly, who was already looking daggers. Rainbow, taking a dramatic cue from Holly, hung on to her brother and presented him with a large good luck card she’d made. July and Wren flitted about showing off, hugging everyone and making a great deal of noise. Sylvie sympathised with Magus’ growing impatience. He came over to where she stood quietly, and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

‘What a load of drama queens!’ he said, and Sylvie smiled in agreement. ‘I hope you won’t make as much fuss next summer.’

She hadn’t thought of that; this time next year she’d be doing the same. She watched as Magus sought out her mother, which wasn’t difficult as Miranda had positioned herself where he couldn’t fail to notice her. Sylvie didn’t hear what he said, but saw him whisper in her ear and noted the way her mother lit up at his words. He bent and brushed her lips with his. Sylvie noticed the discreet caress as his hand slipped over her buttocks, and looked away in embarrassment.

Finally they were ready to go. The tractor pulling the trailer of luggage set off first, and an assortment of cars and farm vehicles arrived to collect the people. They went in slow convoy up to the Gatehouse where a hired coach waited for them; Magus never allowed Outside vehicles in through the gates. When the party had left the Hall, amid much waving, blowing kisses and good luck wishes, the sleek silver Rolls Royce was brought round. With a final salute to everyone, Magus slid into the soft leather seat and purred away down the drive. He drove to Exeter alone.

Once they’d gone, the atmosphere at Stonewylde became very
relaxed. Clip roamed the estate, rarely making an appearance in the Hall. Occasionally he’d be seen leaving or entering his tower, and Sylvie saw him several times up on the roof gazing out over the crenellations. She was a little wary of him since the weird encounter up in the stone hut, which she’d since discovered was called a dolmen. She didn’t like the idea of travelling, nor did she see herself as a saviour, and dismissed his ramblings as the consequence of eating too many special cakes.

Many of Sylvie’s teachers had gone to Exeter and with more time on her hands, she decided to explore further afield. So far she’d only seen a fraction of the estate. Buzz’s departure was a relief as he’d become a real nuisance lately, indulging in horseplay that was becoming increasingly rough. She wasn’t sure whether she should say anything to anyone. Holly had noticed and wasn’t speaking to her at all now.

In the absence of her usual friends, Holly had teamed up with Rainbow and they made a formidable pair. Rainbow was very pretty, with brilliant sea-blue eyes and thick wavy hair of a darker blond than most of the Hallfolk. Her outspokenness got her into trouble but she didn’t care. She deferred to Holly alone, respecting the older girl’s vicious tongue and status. Sylvie avoided them wherever possible, ignoring the snide comments and keeping to herself.

Yul had chosen an ancient holly tree whose spiky foliage formed a great dome, and had built his shelter where three thick branches grew horizontally, creating a natural platform. It was unnoticeable from the ground and Greenbough had supplied a blanket and thin mattress. He also brought food for Yul every day, and allowed him time in the mornings, after Alwyn had left for work, to go home for a while.

Maizie hated Yul living out in the woods. He saw the anguish in her eyes and regretted being the cause of it, but knew there was no alternative. He needed to be safe and hidden in case his father came looking for him at night while he slept. He was very frightened of this possibility and slept fitfully with his whittling
knife to hand. Alwyn hadn’t questioned the boy’s absence, other than to remark that he’d never be allowed back again. Yul worried how his family were faring and hoped desperately that Alwyn wouldn’t choose a new scapegoat. If that happened, he’d return home despite Mother Heggy’s warnings.

One Saturday morning Yul sat in a patch of sunlight near his tree shelter eating breakfast and watching a pair of delicate Holly Blue butterflies dancing around. At the weekends Rosie brought food for him hidden in her basket while she went on errands for her mother. He’d had a bath and change of clothes the day before and was fairly clean. The bruises on his cheek and neck were beginning to fade and he relaxed in the warmth of the May morning, feeling happy for the first time in ages. The day stretched out ahead, long and inviting.

He saw Sylvie’s silver hair gleaming in the speckled sunlight of the woodland and his breath caught with excitement. He hooted like an owl and watched her step delicately through the orchids and cuckoo pint towards him. She smiled radiantly, delighted to see him, but was shocked to learn that he was now living rough in the woods. She too was free for the day and they decided to go for a walk together. She ran back to Woodland Cottage and fetched some food and water. Then they walked through the blue-violet mist of late bluebells and the thick white carpet of wild garlic, with its pungent smell, up to Hare Stone.

They sat together with their backs against the great monolith, looking across the land towards the sea. Yul felt he would burst, being so close to her. A strand of her silver hair blew across onto his arm and he longed to feel its silkiness between his fingers. Unknown to him, Sylvie was feeling a similar yearning for him. Her nose twitched at his scent of herbs and sweet wood-smoke. His dark hair, now grown down to his shoulders, was glossy and curly. He looked happy and seemed taller than before, his legs stretching out way beyond hers, his body as lean and tough as a willow whip. His hands rested in his lap and she wanted very much to reach across and take one of them in hers. How did you start to hold hands with a boy? They sat together perfectly still,
wrapped up in their dreaming, surrounded by the beauty of the May morning.

Down the hillside, amongst the boulders, they saw hares and tiny leverets loping about in the grass. The golden-furred creatures with huge velvet ears nibbled at young shoots of clover, whiskers twitching. Overhead circled a pair of buzzards, their great wings catching the thermals. Sylvie was amazed at the sight of the hawks and loved their strange cries and graceful, effortless flight.

To the south, the deep blue sea glittered in the sunshine; usually at dusk, when the moon was rising, it disappeared into a purple haze. It was glorious weather, everything green and fresh. The grass around them was bright with sky-blue speedwell and tiny white stars of eyebright – nature’s confetti scattered around them in celebration. It felt good to be alive and good to be together.

‘Do you have boats down on the beach?’ Sylvie asked.

‘Boats? No, we see them sail past out to sea but we don’t have them at Stonewylde.’

‘But don’t you catch fish to eat, living so close to the sea?’

‘Oh yes, we catch stripy fish that look like the September skies, called mackerel. We go down to the beach in the evening with fishing rods.’

She looked hard at him; his beautiful cheekbones, his strong profile.

‘What?’

‘Yul, have you ever left Stonewylde in your life?’

‘No, of course not. Nobody has. Well, not the Villagers. Hallfolk come and go all the time, of course. But we stay here.’

‘But don’t you long to know what’s going on in the world?’

‘Well, I do know a bit. When I was at school the teachers told us all about the Outside World. And to be honest, I don’t want to know any more. It sounds horrible. You weren’t happy there, were you? You were ill and now you’re well, which proves it’s much better to stay at Stonewylde.’

‘True,’ she conceded.

After a while she looked at him again. His head was tipped back slightly against the warm stone, his eyes closed. She noticed the sharp strength of his jawbone, and how the bruise on his cheekbone had almost gone. She stared at his eyebrows, like dark winged sycamore seeds, and the way his long eyelashes brushed the delicate skin under his eyes. Yul was beautiful.

He opened his eyes and turned towards her. They were so clear, so very deep grey and slightly slanted. She felt a strange glow as their gaze met, and that peculiar somersault feeling again, down low in her stomach. Her mouth was dry.

‘What? You keep staring at me, Sylvie.’

‘Why did you fail the tests that decide if you stay in the Village or join the Hallfolk at their school?’

‘
What?
Why do you want to know that?’

‘Because you’re so obviously intelligent. From what I’ve heard the whole point of the tests is to make sure that any bright person at Stonewylde gets a good education. How come you failed them?’

‘I just did.’

‘Were they very difficult?’

‘Well they must’ve been if I failed them.’

‘Can you actually read and write?’

‘No. That’s not what they teach at the Village School. We don’t fill our heads with that stuff. We learn other things, important things about the world, and we’re taught skills and crafts. I’m quite good at wood carving, and stone carving too.’

‘But you don’t realise what you’re missing out on by not being able to read. Can you use the Internet?’

‘The what?’

‘I thought not. Have you ever even seen a computer?’

‘Don’t think so.’

‘But that’s terrible!’

‘No it’s not! What’s a computer anyway? Why is it terrible that I haven’t seen one? What use is it to me?’ He scowled at her. ‘Come on, it’s time we moved on if you’re going to get scratchy with me.’

He stood and reached down to help her up. She put her hand in his and as she rose to her feet they stopped. Their eyes locked into each other’s. They moved slightly closer and his gaze dropped to her mouth. They both held their breath. She longed, with every single cell of her body, to kiss him. She saw his nostrils flare and his lips part slightly. She waited, completely still, hoping with all her heart. But he pulled away, picking up the lunch bag, and walked off from the stone.

‘Wait!’ she called. ‘Just answer me this.’

‘Now what?’ he said, striding along the grass as she trotted to keep up.

‘Why did you fail the tests?’

He grinned, but carried on walking.

‘You don’t give up, do you, Sylvie? Alright, I’ll tell you. I’ve never told anyone this before, and you’re not to talk of it to any of the Hallfolk, nor the Villagers for that matter. D’you promise?’

‘Of course.’

‘Well, Village children take the tests at five years old. If you pass, they earmark you for the Hall School later on. You get another chance when you’re eight, if you failed the first time. If you pass at eight, you move up to the Hall immediately and just go home to the Village to visit. All the Hallfolk start at the Hall School when they’re eight, without taking any tests. Did you know all this?’

‘Yes, that’s what I’d heard. And I know that a few Villagers do move up.’

‘Ah, but you see, they’re all Hall-children. You can tell by looking at them.’

‘Hall-children? The Villagers?’

‘Hall-children are different. They’re half and half. Their mothers are Villagers but their fathers are Hallfolk. From the Rites of Adulthood and festivals, when Hallfolk and Villagers are allowed to mix.’

She blushed scarlet at this casual reference. How could Yul even mention it?

‘So you see,’ he continued, unaware of her embarrassment,
‘it’s really not very often that true Villagers pass the tests and move up to the Hall. When I was five and I took the test, I decided I’d never want to go to the Hall and leave the Village. I deliberately answered things wrongly, matched the wrong shapes and things. I was clumsy and didn’t speak properly. So the Hallfolk teacher who was doing the testing failed me.’

‘And you did that again at eight?’

‘Yes, and even worse then. Actually, I was a bit stupid because I should’ve made sure I only just failed – that would’ve been more realistic. I’m surprised that nobody realised I’d done it on purpose. As it was, my teacher made a fuss about me having a chance to redo the test. But I refused, so that was that.’

‘You still haven’t told me why.’

‘Because I’m not one of the Hallfolk! I don’t want to become one of them. Look at Buzz and Fennel, and all the other useless gits. I don’t want to turn out like that. And also … there was my family.’

‘What? Didn’t they want you to pass?’

‘Oh yes, Mother was desperate for me to pass. She even broke the rules and took me up to Magus when I was only three. She begged him to take me in – I vaguely remember it. And I remember hating the smell of the place and the way Hallfolk looked at me and Mother as we stood waiting in the Galleried Hall. She’d told me that if I showed Magus what a clever boy I was, then he’d let me live there. So I was difficult and acted daft. Mother was furious with me, and even more so when I failed the proper tests later. I actually had three chances altogether and I ruined all of them.’