Moondance of Stonewylde (21 page)

Now, out of breath but invigorated from his run, Yul arrived at the Tudor wing. He looked up to the softly-lit windows at the very end which he knew to be Sylvie’s room. It was completely dark below as he opened the side door from the garden and crept up the worn stone stairs, silent and stealthy as an assassin. Carefully he lifted the latch of the arched oak door at the top of the stairs and found himself in Sylvie’s bedroom, lit only by a soft lamp. She lay in the white bed, her long silver hair spread over the pillow and spilling onto the sheet. She was apparently asleep and he tiptoed over, gasping as he drew close enough to see her clearly. She looked like death.

In her tiny hovel the crone muttered to herself, peering through nearly sightless eyes into the piece of dark glass. She found scrying almost impossible now, but she grunted with satisfaction
as the black glass clouded over. A scene began to emerge beyond the smokiness. But as she squinted at the image, her heart grew cold.

‘No, no, no!’ she screeched, making the crow squawk in alarm. ‘I never saw this! ‘Tis happening all over again! Oh, dear Mother, not again!’

She shoved the dark glass away from her, rocking frantically in her chair while the crow scrabbled to maintain its grip on the chair back. After a while she calmed down but continued muttering to herself, shaking her wispy head. Then she turned and spoke to the crow. He hopped onto her shoulder and she craned to kiss him with her toothless mouth. With a flurry of black feathers he flapped across the room and out of the tiny open window to do his mistress’ bidding.

Yul knelt by the side of the bed gazing down at Sylvie as she slept. It was now four nights since her ordeal up at Mooncliffe and yesterday Hazel had removed the drip, judging her to be improved. Her skin was still translucent and the violet shadows under her eyes remained deeply defined, but she had slightly more life in her now and could sit up in bed to eat and drink a little. She needed infinite amounts of sleep, and when she did awaken was often confused and disorientated. Yul knew nothing of this. All he saw was his beloved Sylvie, normally so bright with quicksilver magic, now as lifeless as a corpse.

Gently he stroked the hair away from her forehead and traced the contours of her beautiful face, still lovely despite its delicacy. His throat ached with sadness at the sight of her. He whispered to her, saying how much he’d missed her and how he thought of her every minute of the day. He sensed her struggling to surface from a heavy slumber.

‘I’m here, Sylvie. Open your eyes.’

She recognised his voice and smiled slightly. Then her eyes opened and she smiled properly.

‘Is it really you, Yul? Am I dreaming?’

‘No, I’m here.’

She reached out to embrace him, pulling his head down and rubbing her cool cheek against his.

‘Oh Yul, I’ve missed you so much. Don’t leave me again, not ever.’

The crow flew over the Stone Circle, looking down with bright eyes at the people below spiralling in corn dances. The great fire sent forks of heat lancing up into the night sky. He flew on and finally reached the Hall where he circled for a while, then landed with a flap and a flutter on a window sill. He preened himself and peered through the diamond-paned window at the boy and girl inside, cuddling together in a gentle embrace.

Sylvie released Yul after a while and tried to sit up. He helped her, propping her against a mound of pillows and cushions, and passed her a drink of water. She smiled at him, trying to act normally, but it was obvious just how weak she was. Her eyes were enormous in her face, pale grey pools of suffering. It broke his heart to see her like this.

‘What’s happened to you?’

She shook her head.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Was it anything to do with the Moon Fullness?’

A strange look passed over her face and she stared at him.

‘I danced on the stone up at Mooncliffe for Magus.’

‘And that’s what’s made you so ill?’

She shook her head and shrugged, her face screwed up in puzzlement.

‘I can’t … when I think of it I feel muddled. It’s not … I don’t understand what happened.’

‘Can you tell me about it?’ Yul asked gently, trying to hide his seething resentment.

‘I … I don’t think I can … but I love dancing on the stone.’

‘How can you love it when it does this to you? Did he force you to go up there?’

Bewildered, she shook her head. He took her wrists and examined them for bruising, but this month there was none, only the marks on the back of her hand from the needle of the drip.

‘If he didn’t force you, why did you go? Why didn’t you come to Hare Stone with me? You said it’s where you belong. Why do you go to Mooncliffe when it makes you so ill, Sylvie?’

‘I DON’T KNOW!!’

With that she burst into tears, sobbing piteously as if her heart would break. He held her in his arms, comforting her, stroking her hair, whispering to her that he’d help her. After a while she quietened down and sniffed into a hanky.

‘I’m sorry, Yul. I’m just so frightened. I don’t understand what’s happening but I know something isn’t right. I have these awful dreams …’

She shuddered violently.

‘What happens in them?’

‘I don’t know! When I wake up I can never remember. Sometimes I remember just as I’m dropping off to sleep but then it’s gone as soon as I wake up again.’

‘Is it anything to do with Magus?’

He noticed that she shuddered at the sound of his name.

‘I must share my moon magic with him. It’s what I was brought here for and I have to do it. But …’

She shook her head in confusion and he frowned at her. Just then there was a tapping on the window and they both jumped, Sylvie clutching at him in terror. Yul walked over slowly and saw the crow. Laughing, he opened the window. The crow hopped inside and let out a polite
caw
!

‘Look, it’s only Mother Heggy’s crow, Sylvie, come to say hello.’

She smiled wanly. He could see she was exhausted.

‘I’d better go soon,’ he said reluctantly, sitting on the edge of her bed. ‘Someone could come back at any minute.’

For the first time she noticed his tunic and bare limbs, and the ears of barley and corn fastened in his hair.

‘Why are you dressed like that?’

‘It’s Lammas! We’ve just had the ceremony in the Stone Circle. Now it’s back to the Great Barn for the feast and dancing. I wish you were coming.’

‘Me too. I’d love to be there.’

He took her thin hand in his and stroked it gently, then fished in the pocket of his tunic. First he brought out the ceremony cake, a little crumbled. He put this to one side and pulled out something else, which he concealed between his hands. He swallowed nervously.

‘Sylvie … we have a very special custom at Lammas. It’s about walking out. Normally the boy asks the head of the girl’s family for permission to favour her. But I can’t ask anyone for permission to be your sweetheart. So I’m asking you directly, even though this isn’t the right way to do it. I hope you understand that my intentions towards you are honourable. I love you, Sylvie, and I’d be honoured if you’d accept my favour and walk with me. In fact I’d be the happiest lad at Stonewylde if you agreed to be my sweetheart.’

Shyly he presented her with the little corn knot. Sylvie stared down at it, a long strand of her blond hair falling onto his wrist. The favour was three ears of wheat, with a little twisted loop of plaited stalks holding them together. A small silver ribbon was tied into a bow around the neck, where the loop flared out into the ears, and a tiny slip of yew hung amongst the wheat. Sylvie felt tears welling in her eyes, understanding that although she knew nothing of it, this ritual was very important to Yul.

‘Oh Yul! It’s lovely! I’m not sure of the words I’m meant to say in response, but I’m the happiest girl in Stonewylde to have this favour. And yes please, I’d love to be your sweetheart!’

She smiled at him, her soft grey eyes brimming with tears, and he took her gently in his arms and held her close. She felt so very frail and he pulled back, taking both her hands in his.

‘So now we’re a couple until Imbolc, when I hope we’ll make a new promise to each other,’ he said softly. ‘It’s sad that you can’t pin my favour above your heart, nor can we walk around the Village Green together at twilight. But never mind, our time will come. ‘.

‘It’s so pretty, Yul, and I wish I could wear it. Maybe I could …’

‘No you mustn’t. Everyone, even the Hallfolk, knows what wearing a favour means and they’d wonder who you were walking with. And it would attract a lot of attention – it’s not quite the same as most favours.’

‘Really? In what way?’

‘Usually they have red ribbon. But I used silver because of your moongaziness, and I added the bit of yew because we had our first kiss there under that special tree.’

‘Oh Yul, you’re such a romantic,’ she said. ‘I love my special favour and I’ll treasure it. What a lovely custom.’

He smiled at her, longing to crush her in his arms and kiss her hard and deep. He knew she wouldn’t resist. But he couldn’t be that selfish, not with the dark shadows under her eyes and her slow, almost painful movements.

‘I really must go now, Sylvie,’ he said, picking up the little cake and stuffing it back into his pocket. He didn’t want Miranda noticing her daughter had had a visitor to her bedroom tonight. ‘Make sure you hide my favour away somewhere safe, won’t you?’

‘Okay, but Yul, please come and see me again,’ she said. ‘I miss you terribly. I don’t know what went wrong between us before, that day up on Dragon’s Back, but I still feel the same way about you.’

He stretched over and kissed her cheek, wanting more than anything to kiss her properly.

‘So do I, Sylvie. Remember that, whatever happens. I’d do anything for you. When you’re well again we’ll sort this out, I promise.’

‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘I’m scared and I don’t understand what’s happening to me.’

‘I promise I’ll make it all better,’ he said boldly, a fierce sense of protectiveness rising up inside him. ‘I’ll do anything for you, Sylvie my sweetheart. I’d die for you.’

She nodded weakly, stroking his tanned cheek with her delicate fingers. Unwillingly he rose to his feet and crossed to the arched door. The crow, who’d been sitting quietly on the dressing
table by Yul’s jar of flowers, hopped after him and then flapped up onto his shoulder. He blew Sylvie a kiss and shut the door carefully behind him, climbing down the stairs in the darkness.

The crow wouldn’t get off Yul’s shoulder and pecked his ear repeatedly, so he abandoned his original plan to join the feast and decided to pay Mother Heggy a visit. He’d seen her a couple of times since the Solstice but not recently, having been so busy with the harvesting of flax, fruit and vegetables and his extra responsibilities at home. He needed to speak to her about Sylvie’s terrible condition and hoped she could help with a restorative potion. Yul skirted the Village carefully, not wanting it known where he was going. He carried on up the path leading to the cottage and the crow took off and flew on ahead. When he arrived, the door was already open and the wizened figure of Mother Heggy stood waiting for him.

Yul was pointed to the hard chair while the old woman fiddled about at the range, filling tiny bottles with various liquids from jars and saucepans. Every time he tried to speak she hushed him. She seemed agitated, muttering to herself and ignoring him. Finally he decided if she wasn’t going to talk to him he might as well go to the feast – the thought of Lammas rabbit pie made him even hungrier. But she turned and glared at him.

‘How did you let it happen, you stupid boy?’

‘What?’

‘The bright one – he’ll destroy her if you don’t stop him. The prophecy will never be fulfilled and you’ll walk alone. Sylvie must be by your side if you’re to take your rightful place. You should be guarding her but you let him take her.’

‘I don’t understand what you’re on about, Mother Heggy. Do you mean the Moon Fullness and her moongaziness?’

‘Aye, o’ course I mean that! He’s taken her to Mooncliffe and made her dance on the glittering snake-stone! And now he has strength again, just when he should be on the wane. The story repeats itself and you let it happen. She must dance with the
hares, always with the hares, up high on the hill where the tall stone marks the sacred place.’

‘I know, Mother Heggy, but it’s not my fault. How can I stop her? She wants to go to Mooncliffe with him.’

‘He’s forcing her, like his father did to Raven. He’s an evil man with a craving for power. Such a lust for power I’ve never seen, not even in his father. This one is worse, much worse. This one is the strongest, the cruellest. Aye, and the cleverest.’

‘But Sylvie’s told me that she loves to go there. He didn’t force her to say that.’

‘You’re a fool, boy! I tell you, he forces her. Her heart cries out as she sleeps, yet nobody hears. Not till tonight would the dark glass clear and show me the truth, and then I saw it, the horror of it happening all over again. He drinks up her life, feeds on her magic until there’s no more left to give. He’s so greedy, this one. He’ll never have his fill, always wanting more and more, bleeding her dry till he destroys her.’