Moondance of Stonewylde (49 page)

‘Bright blessings, Sylvie,’ he said softly to himself. ‘You’ve served me very well tonight.’

In the tumbledown cottage the black cat leapt off the table and huddled by the fire. Mother Heggy gazed into the meagre flames, moaning softly. She knew the boy was in danger. She’d warned him not to force a battle tonight; it was not yet time and he couldn’t win. As she looked into the flickering firelight, she saw the awful truth. Despite her binding spell, despite the cloak of protection she’d wrapped about the boy since birth at such great cost to herself, he was now in mortal danger. Somehow the evil one had stepped around the spell she’d cast so long ago; the spell that had been the only thing between the boy and death all these years.

Magus was clever – too clever. What had he done to Yul tonight? How had he managed to put the boy’s life in danger without consequence to himself? She sensed dark magic afoot and knew it must be that other one, the one who fancied herself a Wise Woman. She’d played a part in this and Magus had surely used her dark powers tonight. Why hadn’t the boy listened? The prophecy was foretold but it was only one path of many and nothing was fixed. Must the bright one walk alone and face the evil times ahead without him by her side?

Mother Heggy shook her wizened head and muttered. She made the sign of the pentangle and called upon the Moon Goddess as Mother to protect the boy tonight, to banish the
black shadow that hovered so close and threatened to summon him. She called upon the powers that were left to her, old and withered as she was, with her magic all but used up since that Solstice so long ago. She rocked in her chair and tried to keep hope alive in her heart. The cat by the hearth turned and stared up at her, blinking its yellow eyes and purring hoarsely.

The raven swooped down to the cliff top again and looked sadly at the figure huddled on the cold grass. This boy was the future, the only one who could make everything right again. He alone could stop the events that would unfold, the cruel times ahead for the folk of Stonewylde. He was the guardian of the Earth Magic, favoured by the Goddess; on his young shoulders rested the future and all bright hope. But he was fading. His hands were bound tightly behind his back and the rope held him fast to the iron ring. His deep grey eyes gazed up at the moon but saw nothing, for his head was an inchoate mass of images, completely out of control. The raven pecked at him gently but there was no response. His heart beat slower and slower in his chest. The powerful hallucinogens from the cakes he’d been forced to swallow crept relentlessly through his body, poisoning his system.

Yul sat near the bright disc of snake-stone as if made of stone himself, slowly petrifying as the night grew colder. Above him the Moon Goddess blazed in silver glory, her magic spent. Beneath him lay the Earth Goddess, her spirals weak at this place of suffering. Nearby stood the Dark Angel, watching and waiting to summon his soul. His heartbeat grew ever more feeble as the stars danced through the night. Slowly Yul’s head dropped to his chest and his eyes fluttered shut. All around him, Stonewylde shivered silently in the silver moonlight …

My acknowledgements written for the original, self-published edition of this book still stand. So continued and deepest thanks to:

Clare Pearson, my first agent, for your vision and encouragement.

My three sons George, Oliver and William for your love and support.

All my family and friends, many in Dorset, for your constant enthusiasm.

Sue Andrew and the team at the Three Hares Project for your source material – further information about their research can be found at
www.chrischapmanphotography.com
.

Rob Walster of Big Blu Design for the original covers.

Mr B – for your unfailing support and passion for Stonewylde.

Now that Stonewylde has been taken on by Gollancz and this new edition published, I must add some more sincere thanks to:

My readers – the thousands of you who bought and loved the original books. Deepest, most heartfelt thanks to each of you for your loyalty to me and enthusiasm for Stonewylde.

My family and friends again – for such boundless love and support from you all. I’m so very lucky.

Piers Russell-Cobb, my literary agent, for being totally brilliant.

Gillian Redfearn, my editor, for your excellence.

My sister Claire of Helixtree and Rob Walster of Big Blu Design for the beautiful Stonewylde logo.

Gillian Nott of The Guild of Straw Craftsmen for your advice and knowledge about corn dollies and harvest customs – more information on this ancient craft on
www.strawcraftsmen.co.uk
.

Mr B for continuing to ‘do the business’ with such expertise.