Moondance of Stonewylde (48 page)

Magus continued to change the eggs at intervals once they were glowing, putting the charged ones back into the chests. Later, on his way across the grass with a pair of them he stumbled, kicking the forgotten tin of cakes still lying there. He came back to where Yul sat mutely in his own private hell and crouched down, grasping Yul’s chin roughly and forcing the boy to look up into his eyes. They glittered coldly in the harsh, silver light. The strong mead had done nothing to mellow him; if anything he seemed possessed by a strange wildness, markedly different to his usual tight control. Yul sensed the icy quicksilver slithering inside him, not sparkling and magical like Sylvie’s, but cruel and sharp as venom. Yul quaked with fear, for he knew only too well where this man’s sadism could lead. But he met his gaze squarely, trying not to show any weakness.

‘How are we doing, my lad? Still angry? Upset?’ He chuckled. ‘You really should’ve learnt not to defy me by now, Yul. You just don’t seem to learn the lesson, do you? When we’ve finished up here tonight, I shall have to start all over again teaching you how to behave, just like I did before. This time I won’t have your dear father to help show you the error of your ways which is a shame, because he took such pleasure in it. But never mind, I’ve someone else almost as good. In fact, better in many respects. You remember our friend Jackdaw?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Of course you do! How could anyone forget our Jackdaw? He’ll enjoy correcting your behaviour, especially if I give him free rein. He has a much wider and more sophisticated repertoire than your father and maybe the two of us together will succeed in bringing you to heel. Or we might finish you off altogether.’

Yul’s heart sank. It was two months until the Winter Solstice. Would he survive long enough to overcome this man? He closed his eyes, blotting out Magus’ cruel face, and heard him chuckle
again. This time there was a manic edge to the sound that made Yul’s skin crawl with terror.

‘You won’t get rid of me like that. In fact you won’t get rid of me at all, you bloody upstart! Who the hell are
you
to stop me taking what I need? I’ve just had such a good idea, in view of your attempts tonight to interfere with my moon magic and once again set yourself against me.’

He reached across and pulled over the tin, holding up one of the small cakes. It looked like an innocent fairy cake speckled with herbs and spices but Yul had seen what the cakes had done to Clip. Magus’ face gleamed like white stone, the shadows deep in the hollows of his cheekbones and eye-sockets. He smiled and the moonlight transformed it to a snarl, glinting off his teeth. Suddenly he seemed demonic in his gleeful excitement.

‘A little treat for you, Master Yul! You’re probably feeling hungry, aren’t you? I don’t expect you ate tonight before coming to rescue your maiden in distress, and you don’t know when you’ll eat again, once I get you back into the byre. Remember last time? Five days of starvation, wasn’t it? Well, wasn’t it, boy?’

‘Yes,’ croaked Yul, his heart lurching with dread. Magus settled down more comfortably on the grass opposite him, the tin of cakes in his lap. He took a long swig of mead and corked the bottle carefully.

‘We can’t have you going hungry, not yet anyway. So I shall feed you, Yul, with Old Violet’s very special cakes. You can join my brother on his spiritual journey. But let’s hope you manage to return, for they say that when the soul wanders too far it can’t always find the way back again. And that wouldn’t be my fault – I’m only feeding you after all. Open wide, Yul.’

Yul shook his head and kept his lips clamped shut. Magus scowled at him, cake in hand.

‘Open up
now
!’

He grasped Yul’s jaw in his free hand and squeezed his cheeks to open his mouth. Yul tried to struggle as Magus jammed the cake hard into his mouth, banging his teeth.

‘Swallow it! I SAID SWALLOW IT!’

Yul spat the cake into Magus’ face and was rewarded with another violent back-handed blow, knocking him to the ground again. Magus reached over and hauled him upright, breathing heavily and wiping the crumbs from his face in disgust. He grabbed a handful of Yul’s curls and wrenched his head backwards, leaning in close and snarling into his face. In the silver moonlight, Yul saw the writhing fury and hatred behind those black eyes.

‘That was a stupid thing to do. Now I’ll have to feed you even more. So let’s start again. I’ll put this delicious little cake in your mouth, you’ll chew and then swallow it. Then I’ll give you another one, and so on, and we’ll continue until I decide you’ve had enough. If you don’t obey me, I’ll take that blanket off Sylvie. If you still won’t obey me, I’ll take her dress off too, and she’ll get very cold indeed standing up there naked. So, will you co-operate now?’

Yul nodded, a sob of frustration and fury escaping his lips.

‘Good!’ chuckled Magus. ‘I thought you might. Now open wide.’

Yul swallowed the first cake, and then another, and another in quick succession. He started to choke on the dry crumbs. Magus held the bottle of mead to his lips and forced him to drink deeply of the strong brew. His eyes were merciless and Yul saw that strange vicious light again. As he poured the mead down Yul’s throat, watching him struggle to swallow it, Magus threw back his head and laughed. Then he fed him more cakes, far too many, cramming them relentlessly into his mouth one after the other and washing them down with mead with an unpleasant solicitousness.

‘Swallow!’ he cried encouragingly. ‘Well done! And one more! You can take one more, I know you can.’

His breathing was heavy with excitement, and Yul whimpered at the sensations in his stomach. Everything started to tilt as the burning pain spread inside him. Magus knelt over him, another cake ready in his hand. Yul groaned pitifully and tried to pull away.

‘Please!’ he gasped. ‘Please … no more.’

Magus sat back on his haunches. As Yul raised his agonised eyes he sensed a shadow standing beyond. The shadow was unnaturally black; much blacker than the night around it. Magus seemed to sense something too for he glanced around and then flung the final cake away.

‘No more cakes, then!’ he gabbled. ‘I’ve fed you well so no more, you greedy boy. I don’t want to make you sick. How many did you eat?’

Yul had lost count and was beyond caring anyway. The dark shadow had faded as quickly as it had appeared and only Magus remained, silver and black. The night became very strange. Yul was aware of laughter, loud and harsh, which came and went in his head. It smashed over him in pounding waves, drenching him with mirth and madness.

Magus, the man with silver hair and black eyes, stood up like a great monolith. He moved back and forth, back and forth so many times, carrying glowing eggs in his hands. Yul knew they came from a magical creature who cried, who begged to be allowed to stop. He could hear her calling and crying, her bird-song so sad, and he wished he could help her. She was a strange creature with silver feathers covered in moons and stars. She continued to call and cry into the empty night while the Magus cat just laughed and purred.

He saw the coiled, glittering snake glowing with pleasure inside the massive moon stone. The snake had been well fed by the magical bird-girl and was now fat and satiated. It lay in sparkling ecstasy, pulsating with pleasure at feeling so full and satisfied. The beautiful creature still cried, sobbing piteously now, begging to be released. But nobody listened or cared. The snake wriggled with contentment and settled its slack coils for a long sleep. The eggs were still being filled; there were so many of them and the cat was tireless. He prowled about looking very pleased with himself. The cat with black eyes and silver hair, the cat who
hated him, the cat loved to play with his prey first, before the killing, just to prolong the pleasure.

He sighed and saw the moon hanging like a bright silver disc up in the sky. On one side was the mistletoe and on the other the Green Man. But that image faded as he heard the flapping of great wings and then another bird landed on the cliff top. It was a raven, a big black raven which strutted across the grass and stared at him. He watched the raven’s sharp eyes and beak slowly transform into a beautiful girl’s face, with delicate features and such exquisite grey eyes, the irises pale with darker rings around them. Her long silver hair was wild and full of tangles and knots, but still lovely in the moonlight. She reminded him of someone he loved. She leant over and stroked his face gently with a small, rough hand and he saw such kindness in her eyes. She smiled and her pearly teeth were tiny and pointed, then she bent and kissed him on the forehead, whispering in his ear. He wished he understood what she was saying.

But then another cat appeared. It was much uglier than the beautiful, sleek Magus cat; fat and bloated, with thin silver hair and a blotchy face. Its teeth were discoloured and its eyes bloodshot. It pounced greedily on the raven, grunting with pleasure. Holding the bird between its huge paws, it lowered its head and began to feed voraciously. Before his eyes the Elm cat ripped into the raven girl, tearing her apart and devouring her, then spitting out the feathers when all the flesh was gone. Yul started to scream at this, scream and scream at the horror of it. The sleek Magus cat came over and laughed, then kicked him hard, until the screaming stopped and the groaning began.

A little while later, the magical creature on the rock fell down. The cat knelt and spread her out flat on her back, and then he began to cover her with stones. He piled them all over her in a heavy, crushing blanket and she lay very still, buried alive beneath the stones. Inside each stone was a tiny, hungry snake wanting to be fed by the silver bird; every little snake wriggled and clamoured for her special nurture. After a long time they too began to glow as the bird satisfied them as well. The cat was very
pleased and replaced them with yet more stones, insatiable in their need. The poor bird was nearly empty now and had little more to give them.

A shadowy, wispy creature with silver hair rose up from the snake rock, moaning and shaking his head. He covered the bird-girl and the little snake-stones with a blanket from her nest, and then he lay down again in a heap and went on a long journey to a faraway place where wolves howled and eagles soared.

Much, much later, everything had turned into solid cold stone that wouldn’t bend or move. The Green Man inside was dying slowly and he hung his head as his halo of leaves changed into stone carvings about his face. The black shadow had returned and waited in the corner of his vision. A heavy darkness danced all around the shadowy figure, black like the raven’s feathers only thicker and deeper. It was cold – so very cold.

Then the wispy man with silver hair rose up again, angry and frightened. He spoke to the cat and the blanket was pulled off the magical bird-girl. The stones were glowing quite well and were put in big boxes. When all the eggs were stored away safely in their wooden nests, the Magus cat came over and stared. His eyes were black in a silver face. The face kept changing, melting and reforming into a different face, each one more horrific than the last. But the eyes always stayed the same – black and cold like death itself. His mouth was moving and he seemed to be shouting but no words came out, only a stream of black wasps that buzzed angrily in the air. They swarmed towards the dark, deathly shadow and merged into its depths, making the blackness even deeper.

Then the Magus cat lifted the magical creature from the round white moon where she lay and threw her over his shoulder. She was limp and hung there, floppy and lifeless, her poor feathers quite bedraggled. Her magic was completely gone, drained away. They left with the wispy man, and then it was lonely up on the cliff top, lonely and cold. Only the dark shadow remained, hovering nearby, waiting so patiently. He felt a feeble beating in
his chest. The beating became slower and slower and the shadow edged in closer.

Magus kicked open the arched door and strode into the bedroom. He was slightly out of breath from carrying Sylvie all the way home and then up the stairs, but so fired up on moon magic that he barely noticed. He laid her on her bed and looked down at her. She was pale and completely still. A wild surge of power throbbed within him at the sight of her, exhausted and defenceless and entirely at his mercy. She was the magical one and yet he was the one getting all the special energy. He’d learnt how to tap the source and he’d never be without moon magic again.

He laughed softly at the prospect and pulled the blanket from beneath her body to cover her up. She felt very cold and he stroked her alabaster cheek with one finger. She was such a beautiful girl, so perfectly, exquisitely beautiful. And not a girl for very much longer. He held his breath for a moment, staring down at her with different eyes. That boy Yul, left out in the cold night up on the cliff, loved this quicksilver girl, and despite all the warnings and threats, he’d carried on loving her. But no more – they’d never see each other again. Magus had a very different future in mind for this moongazy girl.

He left the room by the stairs, not wanting to deal with Miranda tonight. He considered going back to Yul on the cliff top; he ought to bring the boy down to the byre now, whilst it was dark. But he didn’t relish the prospect of visiting that shadowy cliff top again, knowing what was lurking there. He’d leave the boy up there alone – or maybe not alone. It was out of his hands and nothing to do with him anyway. He’d done nothing but feed a hungry boy, after all. Besides, it was the night of the Moon Fullness and he brightened at the prospect, determined to put all thoughts of Yul and his fate aside.

As Magus skirted the enormous, silent building he slipped through the porch into the entrance hall and picked up a phone. Time to call in reinforcements. If Jackdaw drove through the night he’d be at Stonewylde before morning and he could have
the tedious task of bringing the boy down from the cliff. Alive or dead. Magus smiled as he made his way in the brilliant moonlight down to the Village. His earlier cruel frenzy had passed, vented on the boy who sat tethered to the ground stuffed full of cakes. Now all he felt was the moonlust, strong and tingling as ever in his veins. The night wasn’t over yet and he throbbed with anticipation, feeling omnipotent. So much moon magic this time – the best yet. He thought again of the pale girl he’d just left, lying silent and unmoving in her bed, and the gift she’d given him.