Moondance of Stonewylde (10 page)

Yul found to his horror that his eyes had filled with hot tears. He blinked them away angrily, glaring at the pathetic huddle that gazed sightlessly out of the window. Alwyn smelt strange, his gingery hair had thinned to wisps and his skin hung loosely in empty folds. He was disgusting, almost less than human in his rapid decay. The vindictive speech of revenge, the glory and taunting that Yul had thought to enjoy as he finally faced his helpless tormentor all faded to nothing. He stood looking through a mist of tears at the man propped lifelessly in the chair, the evening sunlight on his sunken face.

In his pocket Yul’s fingers closed round the pieces of leather he’d brought to toss contemptuously at his father – the remains of the snake-whip and the strap he’d so frenziedly destroyed. He thought of the words he’d dreamt of saying at this moment. But instead of revelling in triumph and gloating at his father’s fate, he cried. Standing in the small room, Yul bowed his head and sobbed silently. He cried not for the man next to him, who must
have hated him so much, but for his lost and trampled childhood, now gone forever.

Hazel gave Miranda a pregnancy test and confirmed that she was indeed expecting a child. The doctor remembered the Miranda of the Outside World as pale and worn-out, over-worked and worried sick about her daughter. The transformation was amazing. The woman before her glowed with good health, her skin and hair sleek, her green eyes shining. Her figure was now curvy and soft and her movements graceful and calm.

Hazel felt a twinge of jealousy knowing that Miranda was carrying Magus’ child. Not that she begrudged Miranda this pregnancy; she was delighted for her. She just prayed to the Moon Goddess as Mother that she too would conceive, even though there were now two women at Stonewylde already expecting his babies. Hazel knew that Magus was normally very careful not to father children, but in the last few months he seemed to have reconsidered. Hazel was currently in favour with him and remained hopeful; maybe she too would be permitted to conceive if he was embarking on a new heir-producing venture.

Miranda was ecstatic on learning she was definitely carrying Magus’ baby, seeing it as a way of binding him to her. Hadn’t he said he’d love and care for the child? It could only strengthen their relationship. She visited the store in the Village where the baby equipment was kept. Marvelling at the lovely wicker cribs and prams that the women shared and borrowed, she chose some pretty linen to make new covers for hers. Luckily Sylvie felt no resentment towards this new life that was claiming her mother’s attention. She was just pleased to be left alone.

Sylvie had gradually recovered from her experience up at Mooncliffe and was nearly back to normal. She’d spent a couple of days in bed, totally exhausted, but then Magus had called before leaving for London and told her to get up and stop malingering. He’d been quite sharp about it, which had upset her. He glowed with energy and she’d wondered if he’d offer to heal her again, but that seemed to be the last thing on his
mind. He’d sent Miranda downstairs to make coffee and shut the bedroom door. Sylvie had felt confused when he’d sat down on her bed smiling, having just reprimanded her for being there at all. Her first reaction had been to shrink from him. But there’d been something else pulling against this instinct; a compulsion that she didn’t understand.

‘Remember the last Moon Fullness, Sylvie?’ he’d asked softly, aware of Miranda moving about downstairs. He’d stroked the black bruises circling her wrists with a gentle finger. Sylvie had met his dark gaze and felt a strange sensation inside. She recalled the white disc of stone up on the cliffs. She knew that she must share her magic with Magus; it was why she’d been brought here. She nodded, her eyes luminous and intent as she returned his gaze. Despite himself, Magus had shivered at her strangeness.

‘I do,’ she said. ‘I stood on the rock at Mooncliffe.’

‘That’s right. You were a good girl. And what about the next Moon Fullness, Sylvie? What’ll you do then? Go running off with Yul?’

She swallowed. Of course she wanted to be with Yul up at Hare Stone. She knew it in her heart. But she found herself speaking differently.

‘I want to dance at Mooncliffe for you,’ she whispered.

Magus had smiled at this. She felt the full blast of his charm and vitality as he leant across the bed to kiss her forehead, his exotic scent filling her nostrils.

‘I’m very pleased with you, Sylvie. I shall come back specially and you can dance for me again. Don’t forget now. Remember what Clip told you.’

She nodded, her throat aching with unshed tears. She knew this was wrong. She knew how ill she’d felt since the full moon. She wanted to be with Yul. And yet …

‘You must share your magic with me,’ he said, squeezing her hand. ‘But don’t talk about it to anyone, will you? It’s just between us.’

He then went downstairs and made Miranda’s day by hugging her and telling her how beautiful she looked with his baby
growing inside her. He kissed her deeply before leaving, teasing her for becoming so weak and submissive at his touch. He promised to spend time with her when he returned and reminded her of the imminent move up to the Hall. His final words, though, were about Sylvie.

‘I expect to come back and find her completely well again. I will not be pleased if I return and find she’s still moping about. I’m counting on you, Miranda, so don’t let me down. I want Sylvie strong and healthy.’

A few days after Magus left, Sylvie and Yul came across each other in the woods where they both walked regularly in the hope of such a meeting. They were a little shy and both wished they could get back to their previous easiness with each other. Both also remembered their magical kiss on Sylvie’s birthday under the yew tree, which made them slightly nervous about being alone together now. They climbed up the hill to the Hare Stone and Sylvie ran over and rested her cheek against its rough warmth. She breathed deeply.

‘I love this stone. It makes me feel safe.’

Yul flung himself down on the short grass carpeted with white clover and sky-blue speedwell. He looked out towards the sea, hazy in the July sun. His deep grey eyes were startlingly clear in his tanned face as he narrowed them against the glare of the sun.

‘So tell me what happened at the last Moon Fullness, Sylvie. I was really worried about you.’

‘Oh yes, of course,’ she said brightly, sitting down on the grass next to him. He wore a thin, sleeveless jerkin; she noticed how brown he was and how well defined the muscles in his arms had become. ‘I went to Mooncliffe with Magus and I danced on the moon stone there.’

‘What? You danced?’

‘I went to Mooncliffe with Magus and I danced—’

‘Yes, I heard you. But why there, Sylvie? Did he force you to go with him? What happened?’

She frowned, feeling confused.

‘Yes, he was waiting for me, I think. I don’t … I don’t remember that bit too well. He took me up to Mooncliffe and … I’m not sure. I danced on the cliff-top for a while I think, and then I went on the white disc of rock.’

‘I thought he must’ve been lying in wait for you. The bastard! I waited for ages in the woods, and then I wasted time looking all over the place trying to find you. I should’ve realised straight away he’d taken you up there. Was it awful for you?’

‘Yes, it – no, it was fine. I don’t know. I’m going there next month. I love dancing at Mooncliffe.’

‘
What
? I thought you liked coming here with me and dancing with the hares.’

She wrinkled up her face, looking puzzled.

‘Yes, I want to be with you, Yul. But … I love dancing at Mooncliffe for Magus.’

He stared at her in consternation. She didn’t sound like herself at all.

‘Sylvie you didn’t dance on the stone. Don’t you remember? You were standing very still and then you collapsed.’

‘No, I think … I don’t know. I can’t remember. I love it there. I know that for sure. I think you’re wrong, Yul. I was fine. I want to go there again.’

Yul shrugged, swallowing his hurt. He’d thought that moongazing up at Hare Stone with him was special to her. But if she preferred to be with Magus at Mooncliffe, he wouldn’t make a fuss.

Her strangeness made their time together awkward and Yul couldn’t shake off his disappointment. They watched the young leverets playing below them on the hill for some time, and lay on their backs amongst a patch of pale-blue harebells that grew in the grass, following the swallows arcing in the sky overhead. They could smell the delicious, sweet fragrance of honeysuckle wafting up from the hedgerow bordering the woods. It should have been idyllic; a rare chance to enjoy each other’s company without being disturbed or overlooked. After their passion in the moonlight under the yew tree, they should have fallen into each other’s arms.
But despite being acutely aware of their proximity, they were careful to avoid any contact. There was an uncomfortable constraint between them which neither knew how to banish.

Sylvie could see how much Yul had changed since Alwyn’s departure. He’d lost the hunted look; he no longer jumped if taken by surprise, or constantly looked over his shoulder at every noise and movement. At one point his tunic had ridden up his back a little and she could see where the terrible lashes still marked him, the skin now mended. He’d carry the scars for the rest of his life, she was sure, but it was good to see he’d healed. He looked so well and she imagined his mother must be spoiling him at home. Sylvie could only guess at how the woman must’ve felt over the years, watching her husband crush her son so brutally at every opportunity. Yul’s eyes and skin were clear and glowing and he’d had his hair cut so it no longer flowed onto his shoulders. The dark curls sprang round his face, glossy and soft. Sylvie wanted very much to run her fingers through them.

He could see a change in her too, but it wasn’t for the better. She’d lost weight and looked more delicate than ever. Her face was sharper and her eyes different. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what was wrong but knew she wasn’t herself. She seemed brittle and nervous, as if she might crack at any moment.

He didn’t know that Sylvie suffered from nightmares every night and awoke drenched in sweat with her heart pounding. In her dreams she’d frozen into stone and couldn’t move, whilst she slowly died inside, her life force draining away. And Magus was in the dreams too. Sometimes he stood there laughing. Other times he lay at her feet groaning with pleasure. And the worst dream of all – once he stood very close, touching her, and she couldn’t move away to stop him doing it. She’d told nobody about the nightmares. In the daylight she tried to forget them but the evidence of their damage was plain to see.

After a while they wandered further along the Dragon’s Back ridgeway, both remembering the last time they were here escaping from Quarrycleave, and the time before that when Yul had ridden Nightwing. Recalling how happy they’d been together
made them both feel sad now, for something had changed. Sylvie reached across and took his hand in hers, too shy to look at his face. He smiled and linked his fingers with hers, careful not to crush her bones. He longed to scoop her up and kiss away her strangeness until there was no awkwardness, only passion and that glorious feeling of being part of the same whole. Yul sighed and contented himself with the warmth of holding hands.

A little later on they were surprised to see a horse and cart approaching. As it drew nearer they recognised Tom at the reins. He pulled the cart to a halt.

‘Blessings!’ he called. ‘’Tis good to see you again, boy. And you, miss.’

‘Blessings to you too, sir,’ said Yul, automatically stroking the old cart-horse’s long nose.

‘Should you two be out together? I heard that’s what all the fuss was about afore.’

‘Yes, but Magus and Clip are both away. You won’t tell on us, will you?’ said Yul.

The old man chuckled.

‘Not me. Anyway, I’d best be getting this lot back to the Village.’

‘What have you got in there?’ asked Sylvie, peering into the cart. She saw a pile of small rocks and shuddered. ‘Have you been to Quarrycleave?’

‘Aye, that’s the one, and I seen Jackdaw there too. You won’t know him, miss, but I reckon you do, Yul.’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Thought he’d been banished from Stonewylde. There’s been talk in the Village but I didn’t believe it till today. Never thought Magus’d bring Jackdaw back, not after what he done. Turns out he’s up there working with a bunch of Outsiders who don’t even speak our tongue. You must’ve known that Yul, but I expect you weren’t to tell us. Whatever is Magus thinking of? I don’t know … I don’t like it.’

‘What are these rocks for?’ asked Sylvie. ‘They’re rather pretty, sparkling in the sun. Oh!’

She’d reached in to touch one but drew her hand back sharply.

‘What’s wrong? Did you cut yourself?’ Yul took her hand but there was no mark on it.

‘No,’ she said, frowning. ‘No, nothing like that. It just gave me a funny feeling.’

‘Don’t know what this lot’s for,’ said Tom. ‘Magus just said to go to the quarry where they’d have it ready to collect. I’ve to take it to the stone-carvers in the Village. One of his new schemes I suppose. You still do stone-carving in the evening, Yul?’

‘No, not since I worked at Quarrycleave,’ Yul’s tone was terse. ‘It put me off stone.’

‘Reckon it would, after what you went through. Anyway, ‘tis good to see you looking so fit and healthy now, lad. Drop by the stables some time if you’re up that way. I know old Nightwing would be pleased to see you.’