Magus of Stonewylde Book One (44 page)

‘Your time here is over,’ said Sylvie simply. ‘I’ve come to take you home.’

The dusty figure nodded, his chest rising and falling rapidly but his chalk-white face as impassive as a mask. Only the deep smoky-grey eyes that bored into hers with such intensity betrayed any emotion. He emptied his pockets of tools and unstrapped the heavy belt that held more tools, handing them to the Portlander.

‘Be seeing you then, lad,’ said the man.

Without a word Yul turned away and strode out of the quarry, Sylvie close behind. They walked very fast and she struggled to keep up. Yul noticed and stopped, taking the heavy backpack from her and slipping it over a shoulder.

‘Can we slow down?’ she gasped.

‘Not yet.’

They continued the fast pace, remaining silent until they were a good couple of miles away from the quarry. Then Yul stopped, putting the backpack down at his feet. He turned to her and she read it all in his eyes, everything. Fighting down the tears, she opened her arms and held him tightly, ignoring the dirt and smell, just happy to have him safe and real in her embrace. She felt his thin body shudder with relief, the tautness and tension beginning to loosen a fraction. At last he pulled away, looking down at her.

‘Why did Magus send you like this?’ he asked croakily. ‘Why didn’t he come himself in the Land Rover? Have you walked all the way?’

She nodded and opened up the backpack, finding him one of the bottles of water. He drank deeply then offered her some.

‘He didn’t send me. I came on my own to take you back for the Solstice tomorrow morning.’

‘What do you mean, he didn’t send you? Does he know you’ve come for me?’

She shook her head.

‘No, but I …’

He was off, striding straight back the way they’d come.

‘STOP!’ she cried, running after him and trying to grab his arm. ‘Stop, Yul!’

He shook her off and continued walking angrily, ignoring her.

‘Yul,
stop
!’

She leapt in front of him and seized both his arms, pushing at him to stop the momentum of his movement. He halted and stared down at her.

‘What are you doing?’ she shrieked. ‘You can’t go back there! I’ve come to take you home!’

‘I’m not going home unless Magus says I can,’ he said. His mouth was bitter and tight. ‘Do you really think I’m going to risk angering him again? He’s won, Sylvie. I’ll never cross him again and I won’t leave Quarrycleave until he says so.’

‘But he
did
say you could come back!’

‘What? But you just said—’

‘He said you could come back after two weeks. He said it several times and I checked again yesterday. The only reason he hasn’t come to collect you personally today is because it’s the Solstice and he’s too busy. He said if I could drive I could fetch you myself. Well I can’t drive but I can walk, so I came and got you. Honestly, Yul, you’re not disobeying him. He said you could come home, I promise.’

He frowned down at her, wanting desperately to believe her but terrified he’d be crossing Magus in doing so. She smiled encouragingly at him, taking his dusty, torn hand in hers and gently tugging him around to face freedom again.

‘Come, Yul,’ she said softly. ‘It’s alright, really. Trust me.’

A while later they came to a stream. Yul stopped and removed the backpack, which he’d insisted on carrying despite Sylvie’s protestations. He lay down amongst the emerald weed that floated in the water like green hair. The crystal clear water washed over him as he lay on the pebbly bed, his eyes staring up at the swallows in the skies. He lay there for ages, the thick white dust slowly loosening and washing away.

It wasn’t until they were up on Dragon’s Back ridgeway with
the sea in view and the woodlands around the Hall and Village in the approaching distance, that Yul stopped again. He flung himself down on the short grass and lay there, gazing up into the bright blue heavens. Sylvie unpacked the picnic and spread it out over the grass. After a while Yul sat up and started to eat ravenously. He ate for a long time and Sylvie held back, letting him take his fill.

Then he lay down again and within minutes was fast asleep. Sylvie was bemused; this wasn’t the reunion she’d envisaged. He’d barely spoken so far. But she realised he was badly damaged and needed to heal; she must treat him very gently. She moved around as he slept so her shadow shielded his face from the hot sun. She had a good look at him whilst he lay sprawled on the purple vetch and butter-yellow bird’s foot trefoil that grew so thickly on the dry grassland. It was hard not to cry at the pitiful sight of him. The stream had washed some of the dirt from his face and she saw the faded bruising all over his skin. The bones in his face were even sharper now and his mouth had changed; it seemed hard and bitter, even in sleep. He’d been robbed of the last traces of innocence.

Sylvie judged that it must now be late afternoon. Yul had slept peacefully for hours, oblivious to the vivid blue butterflies dancing about him. She picked up one of his hands, looking at the long, square-nailed fingers, now torn and sore. She ached with pity and love for him, longing to kiss his lips softly, stroke the bedraggled curls back from his forehead, smooth away the bruising. He awoke suddenly, his clear eyes focusing on her.

‘Thank you, Sylvie, for saving me. Twice over.’

She shook her head and turned away, tears choking her throat. She stared out across the valley below towards the sea. He pulled himself up to join her, sitting close, his arm touching hers. She laid her head against his shoulder and a strand of her hair blew across his chest, as if trying to bind him to her. They sat for some time, feeling the joy of each other’s company, needing no words to communicate. At last he turned to her, his grey eyes full of sadness.

‘Sylvie, when we get back … it can’t be the same. I can’t be your friend any more. We won’t be able to see each other.’

She gulped at this, a wave of sorrow rising up inside her.

‘But Yul, we can—’

‘No.’ He shook his head firmly. ‘I’ve learnt my lesson. No more fighting back or standing up to them. The things that have happened to me … I’m never going through that again. I must forget what Mother Heggy said. You’re Hallfolk and I’m a Villager and we’re not allowed to be together like this.’

‘Then I’ll become a Villager too!’ she said fiercely, taking his hand in hers. He squeezed it but released her.

‘No, Sylvie. You know he’d never allow that.’

‘Yul, please, you’re not thinking straight. You need to rest and heal before you make decisions like this. I’ve got something for you from Mother Heggy.’

She fished in the bag and pulled out a small glass bottle labelled ‘
Journey
’ in spidery writing. He drank it, then gazed out across the woodlands. She stared at his profile, struck again by the changes in him, saddened by the hardening of his boyish good looks.

‘I can’t wait to be home,’ he said softly. ‘I can’t tell you how much I’ve yearned for this. I just want to get back to the woods, the Village, my cottage. See my family again … except my father.’

‘There’s something else, Yul,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a cake hidden at home, a cake from Mother Heggy. It’s for Alwyn. He must eat it tomorrow, the day of the Solstice. I think she must have put … well, you can guess what’ll happen. Those who stand against you will fall, one by one. Remember?’

He stared at her. She gazed steadily back at him, looking deep into his eyes, trying to fill him with strength and purpose.

‘Oh Yul, you’re much too far along the path to turn back now,’ she said gently. ‘Can you live under the same roof as Alwyn? Can you take more beatings and abuse? You know he won’t stop now, despite what Magus has put you through. Or … will you finish it, once and for all?’

He hung his head, remembering Mother Heggy’s warning.

‘You know what’ll happen if you do nothing, if you try to be obedient and just do as they want,’ she continued. ‘You’ve gone too far and they’ll never leave you in peace. You’ve got to see this through, Yul. I understand you don’t want to suffer again as you have in the quarry, but …’

‘And in the byre by the stables,’ he whispered. ‘I really thought they meant to kill me. You don’t know what it was like in there.’

‘No I don’t. But I do know that you can’t just give in. You’ve got to fight, Yul. You’ve got to face up to Magus and fight him. I’ve seen his dark side, and I’ll help. You’ve got me and you’ve got Mother Heggy. We’ll both help you.’

He laughed at this bitterly.

‘What can you do, Sylvie? No disrespect to you or Mother Heggy, but what kind of match are the two of you against Magus? And if—’

‘Hold on a minute before you dismiss us like that!’ she cried angrily. ‘What kind of match were we last night, Yul, in the quarry? You’re here now, alive, because of us. We fought for you and we won! Is Magus more powerful than the beast we took on last night and overcame? Answer me that!’

He stared at her and she saw a tiny spark kindle in the grey depths of his eyes. He nodded slowly and stood up, stretching painfully, and gazed out at the sea in the distance. He stood like this for a long time, deep in reverie. Eventually he turned and smiled down at her, a new light in his eyes. And she saw then that Mother Heggy had been right. He may be battered and may appear broken, but Yul would never lose his spirit.

They left the ridgeway and passed the Hare Stone, touching it reverently like pilgrims at a holy shrine, before making their way downhill. Sylvie felt Yul start to unshrivel as they entered the woodland. He breathed deeply, brushing the bark of trees with his fingertips, gazing up at the bright green canopy above them. They stopped and listened to the sweet birdsong, watched a tiny wren flit around a bush in quick jerky movements and a songthrush perch on a twig singing its heart out. A pair of squirrels scampered up the trunk of a tree and leapt from branch
to branch overhead, whilst in the dappled shade in the distance they saw a fallow deer and her faun standing frozen, watching them with velvety eyes and twitching their pretty snub noses.

‘It’s so good to be home,’ he said softly, and Sylvie took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently.

‘It’s so good to have you home. The woods aren’t as magical when you’re not around.’

‘Do you know, there were no birds or wildlife at all in the quarry?’ he mused. ‘Apart from the owl and the raven last night, of course. Creatures must know it’s a place of evil and suffering. In the two weeks there I saw nothing except a viper basking on a rock. The biggest snake I’ve ever seen, black and silver and beautifully patterned.’

Sylvie thought of the great rock carved with serpents and shuddered. She wanted to put Quarrycleave to the very back of her mind. She guessed the place would haunt Yul for a long time.

Her plan from now onwards depended largely on luck, but luck seemed to be with them. Sylvie had counted on the fact that everyone would be up at the Stone Circle for the Solstice Eve ceremony. The community would be singing, dancing and drumming, waiting for the sun to go down. Everyone took part in the evening ceremony that heralded the week’s festivities.

The Hall was deserted, as she’d hoped. They crept in a side door and using the servants’ back stairs, went straight up to the white marble bathroom. Sylvie ran the bath whilst Yul gaped in amazement at the extravagant luxury of the place. He watched the scalding water gush from the polished silver tap, more ornate than he’d have dreamt possible for such a simple object. His fingers traced the flecked snowy-white marble of the enormous tub. He’d never seen anything like it.

He couldn’t bear the sight of himself in the myriad of mirrors, for he was really filthy. Sylvie ushered him towards an adjoining shower room to wash off the worst of the dirt and stone-dust from his skin and hair. Then she fetched some of the things Mother Heggy had left for her in the wicker basket and read the labels carefully. She poured the contents of one bottle of potion
into the steaming bath, and added a copious amount of fragrant bubble-bath for good measure.

Soon Yul lay soaking under a discreet blanket of thick bubbles, his eyes closed in contentment. Sylvie had a quick shower herself down the corridor, then sorted out clean clothes for him from one of the many linen cupboards, and picked up a couple of blankets. It felt strange being the only ones in the vast building. Then she hurried down to the kitchens and filled a large basket with food and drink for their own Solstice Eve celebration. Out of the bath, soaked and steamed clean at last, Yul began to apply the salve from Mother Heggy’s basket as instructed.

‘Are you ready for me to do your back yet?’ Sylvie called from behind the door. ‘Mother Heggy said you must put it on all over.’

‘No! I don’t want you to. Please don’t come in, Sylvie.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ she said firmly, opening the door. ‘There’s no need to be shy. Just keep that towel round your waist. Oh!!’

He’d turned away in shame and she saw the full horror of his livid back. In shocked silence, she took the jar from him and started to smooth the salve over his damaged skin, her fingertips as light as rose petals. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she understood a little more just how badly he’d suffered.

‘Nobody will ever do this to you again, Yul,’ she whispered with an aching throat. She sniffed and angrily brushed away the hot tears. ‘This is sick, it’s inhuman. Alwyn deserves everything that’s coming to him.’