Shadows at Stonewylde

9



Squatting alone at the end of a muddy lane, on the very edge of the Village, was a desolate cottage. It seemed to slither into the surrounding brambles and briars, the filthy, cracked windowpanes staring out like dead eyes. The front garden was untended and choked with tall weeds and inside was no better. The sitting room was dark and squalid with unidentifiable piles of mess everywhere, all furred with greasy dust. A fire burned in the hearth but other than that it was a cheerless place. The furniture was similar to that in all the other cottages but it was all heavily worn and soiled. Unlike Maizie’s scrubbed table and well-stocked dresser, the table was littered with stale scraps of food and mounds of dirty crockery. Acrid smoke from three pipes hung heavily in the air. Clustered around the fire on battered rocking chairs sat three women, two elderly sisters and one enormous, slack-bodied daughter, all drinking tea and smoking, engaged in desultory conversation.

Violet and Vetchling were wrapped in dirty shawls, their feet clad in ancient boots, whiskery faces lined and grimy. They were an unfetching pair, their faces permanently creased in expressions of dissatisfaction. Vetchling’s daughter, Starling, was little better. Long, greasy hair hung down her back, which was slabbed with fat. Her face could’ve been quite pretty – and once it had been – but her belligerent scowl and dark-stained teeth put paid to that. She drew deeply on the clay pipe and toasted her great rolls of stomach and side-sagging breasts in the heat of the fire.

The three could be found like this most days. They were close-knit; the events of years ago when Vetchling’s son Jackdaw had been banished from Stonewylde bound them together. The whole community had ostracised them, but even before that they’d lived on the fringes. Diligence and sheer hard work were prized by the Villagers and these three were not good examples of such virtues. Starling had never been hand-fasted, but as a young woman had enjoyed the company of many of the Village lads, especially when they’d been drinking and weren’t feeling fussy. Unlike most Village women, Starling had conceived Magpie late in life. She had no desire for a child and thanks to her mother and aunt’s knowledge, had managed to avoid falling pregnant until his conception. His father could’ve been one of many and Starling made no secret of her indifference to the unwanted baby, neglecting him shockingly.

The three women sat now in companionable silence, sucking on their pipes and slurping at their tea. Just as they always avoided the Stonewylde doctor, they’d also rejected the services of the Stonewylde dentist. Consequently Violet and Vetchling were now almost toothless and Starling would be following just as soon as her puffy gums gave up their hold on her remaining dark stumps. They treated their ailments themselves as the two older women had a good knowledge of herb lore. Even today, Violet and her sister cultivated a diversity of unusual plants. Stuffed in the dresser drawers were paper twists bursting with various seeds, all gleaned from this year’s gathering. The back garden of their cottage, where fruit and vegetables were supposed to be grown, bore harvests unlike those of the other Villagers. The dense weeds and undergrowth were merely a blind. Nobody ever examined the nature of the rank fecundity of Violet and Vetchling’s plot, and an abundance of strange plants thrived there undisturbed, producing crops not grown elsewhere at Stonewylde.

‘Fire needs stoking,’ muttered Vetchling, grunting as she leant forward to fling another log into the flames. ‘More wood, Starling.’

‘He’s out there now chopping,’ replied her daughter. ‘Can’t you hear him?’

Vetchling was a little deaf but could just hear the rhythmic thud of axe on wood coming from the lean-to outside. She nodded.

‘Taking his time about it,’ she grumbled. ‘Always does, lazy clout. If there’s a job to be done, he’ll make it last all day, that one. Bone idle.’

‘Aye, sister. Listen, he’s stopped again.’

‘Magpie!’ bellowed Starling. ‘Hurry up with them logs!’

The back door crashed open and Magpie tramped through the kitchen into the sitting room bearing a great basket of newly cut logs. The three women eyed him malignantly as he shuffled between them with his burden, trying to place it on the hearth whilst avoiding their feet. His coat hung in filthy folds about him and his nose was running. He kept his dull eyes down.

‘Lazy good-for-nothing!’ spat Starling, aiming a solid kick at his bent form. He yelped like a dog. ‘Is that all the wood cut now?’

He stood there in their midst with his head hanging, greasy hair covering his face, and nodded.

‘About time too – it’s taken you all morning. Now get the water, boy. WATER! D’you understand?’

He nodded again miserably and stood there waiting for any other instruction.

‘Well get on with it then, you half-wit!’ Starling screeched, picking up the heavy stick she kept propped by her chair for just such a purpose and lashing out at him. He could have avoided the blow but didn’t, and it caught him soundly on the hip. He’d learnt over the years that dodging the blows and kicks only made them rain down harder; it was best to take them stoically from the outset. He began to shuffle away, sniffing hard, and Violet’s boot shot out to connect with his shins.

‘Don’t dither about fetching the water, boy,’ she said. ‘I’ve an errand for you myself and I’m not waiting all day. If you take too long there’ll be no dinner. You’ll come back to an empty bowl and ‘twill serve you right.’

He regarded her mournfully then left the room, collecting the water cart from outside to pull down the lane to the nearest pump in the heart of the Village.

Starling chuckled and stuffed another pinch of the herbal mixture into the bowl of her pipe.

‘He ain’t getting no dinner anyway, the stupid git. I already told him that this morning when he spilt the ashes all over the hearth. Mind you, he’s probably forgot. What did I ever do to deserve such an idiot?’

‘He has his uses,’ muttered Violet. ‘If he were normal like Jay, he’d be up at the Hall now. Terrible custom that, taking our young ‘uns away from us. Jay should be living here with his family, not up there.’

She spat into the fire and rocked harder on her chair.

‘Aye, sister, but our Jay comes back most days to see us, don’t he? Likes his pipe too much to stay away long,’ cackled Vetchling. ‘That boy does love a good smoke. Don’t know what we’d do without him popping in to see us. He’s a fine young man, just like his father were.’

‘Aye, just like our own Jackdaw.’

‘I saw that busy-body Maizie yesterday,’ said Starling. ‘Did I tell you?’

‘Aye, daughter, you did. That one’s got ideas above her station. Who does she think she is?’

‘She knows well who she is,’ muttered Violet grimly. ‘She’s the mother of that upstart whelp. ‘Tis why she thinks she can come poking her nose into our doings.’ She spat again, more violently. ‘She’ll get her come-uppance, that one, and pay for her high and mighty ways. She’ll fall along with the rest of ‘em.’

‘Aye, sister, she’ll fall, and that bastard of hers with his black locks. Blond is the magus, not black – any fool knows that. He’ll fall alongside his whore of a mother, and that Outsider runt of a wife too. They’ll all suffer, right enough, and we’ll be sitting pretty.’

The three cackled in unholy unison and sparks shot up the chimney.

A while later, Starling heaved herself out of her chair and waddled over to the range. She poked at the bubbling contents of a large iron pot and the aroma of rabbit stew filled the cottage. The two crones smacked their lips. Starling began to ladle portions into chipped bowls and Vetchling rose creakily to get the spoons and bread. Soon all three were tucking into their dinner, still rocking gently by the fire, sucking and champing at the very tender stew that never came to an end but was added to daily. The bread, collected from the bakery by Magpie earlier in the day, was dipped into the rich gravy until it disintegrated. Starling helped herself to several portions of stew and generous amounts of bread, but the crones had smaller appetites. At last they sat back replete, and all belched loudly before reaching for their pipes.

‘She wanted to know why the boy weren’t at school,’ said Starling, resuming the earlier conversation as if there’d been no break. ‘I told her he was poorly with a head-cold. She said he must see that bitch-doctor if he were ill and he must be back at school tomorrow.’

‘Interfering busy-body,’ muttered Violet. ‘Sniffing in our doings. Why should she tell us what to do? Who is she anyway?’

‘Nobody, sister, nobody. She got no right to interfere with us. We’ll do as we like with that boy. ‘Tain’t up to her.’

‘I’ll have to send him back to school tomorrow,’ said Starling. ‘We don’t want that doctor poking about examining him, do we? Maizie gave me a right old talking to about the boy – don’t know what’s suddenly got her all of a-fuss about him! Ain’t none o’ her business and I told her so. She didn’t like that, but then she said I got to take him to the bath house too afore he goes back to school.’

‘Pah!’ cried Violet. ‘The worst thing to do to a body if it’s got a cold. He don’t need a bath anyway. ‘Tis unnatural, all this bathing.’

‘I know, Aunt, but I’ll have to take him. She’ll just make trouble if I don’t.’

Just then they heard the sound of rickety wheels on the lane; Magpie had arrived back with the tanks on the cart full of fresh water. He dragged the heavy cart up to the back door and positioned it so the taps were to hand. Then he came in and stood in the doorway sniffing hopefully. The three turned to regard him, Starling smiling.

‘Can you smell the dinner, boy?’

He nodded and looked towards the corner where his empty bowl lay on the floor.

‘Are you hungry?’

He nodded eagerly.

‘Do you want some dinner then? Nice rabbit stew?’

He nodded again, his eyes more alive than they’d been that day.

‘Ah, but what did you do this morning, Magpie?’

He looked puzzled, then began to mimic the action of wood chopping.

‘No, dim-wit, before that. What did you do?’

He looked completely dumbfounded.

‘What did you do that made me angry? Goddess he’s stupid! What did you do and I said you’d get no dinner? Aye that’s right, remembered now, have you? So will you get any of this nice dinner now? No. That’s right, you’ll go hungry. Now get in your bed!’

Whimpering, he scuttled over to the corner and flung himself down onto the fetid rug on the floor under the stairs, the dirty alcove serving as his bedroom. He was treated like a dog, even down to the bowl on the floor. He sat there rocking backwards and forwards, curled in misery as the three women laughed.

‘Shall I tell him about the bath?’ whispered Starling gleefully.

Magpie’s reaction was as they’d imagined, and it was only the threat of a sound beating from Jay that persuaded him to leave his bed and follow Starling down the lane. He shuffled behind her, whimpering the whole way, terrified of the ordeal that lay ahead. She laughed and scolded in turns, frightening him further and enjoying his terror. At the bath house she kicked him into a cubicle and began to fill the bath with hot water. Magpie snivelled noisily until she’d had enough; picking up the metal jug used for rinsing hair, she clouted him over the head with it.

Half an hour later they re-emerged, Magpie much cleaner but still smelling disgusting as he’d had to put on the same filthy clothes. Starling waddled grimly to the centre of the Village and entered the food stores. She might as well get more supplies now she was here with Magpie to carry everything. The boy did have his uses.

Leveret was delighted to have Magpie back at school because she’d been lonely without him. There were many students of her own age at school as she’d been born towards the end of the baby boom, but by nature, Leveret had no close friends. She was prickly and secretive and rejected any tentative invitations to join one group or another. Lately she’d been worse than usual, skulking about the Hall under her own black cloud, unable and unwilling to confide in anybody about her dark unhappiness.

Magpie wasn’t in any of Leveret’s teaching groups. She was one of the high fliers whether she liked it or not, and he bumped along at the very bottom of the non-academic group, learning basic literacy and numeracy skills and a practical trade. When Magpie had first arrived at the Hall School four years ago, it had been difficult for Miranda to place him anywhere. She tried her best, but he was kept at home a great deal with various ailments, and when he did turn up his attention span was short and his communication non-existent. He spent most lessons gazing out of the window vacantly, or if he had any paper, drawing tiny sketches.

On a practical level Magpie was often sent into the huge kitchen gardens to learn about growing vegetables and fruits. There he was an asset when it came to undertaking the very mundane, repetitive tasks that others hated, such as planting peas; he’d take the same slow care with the last pea as the first. He never skimped or rushed a task but would continue doggedly until it was completed, provided the instructions were very clear and simple.

On his return to school after this latest absence, Magpie slouched into the Hall along with all the others who walked up every day from the Village. But unlike them, he didn’t stand around in the main entrance hall talking in groups as he had no friends and couldn’t talk. Nor did he go to his first class to leave his bag as he didn’t have one. Instead he went straight to the Galleried Hall where morning assembly was always held. He’d looked for Leveret on his walk to school and was sad not to have found her, but he loved this great room and it cheered him up.

The stained glass was beautiful, especially in the morning with sunlight streaming through. He was also fascinated by the carvings up on the roof bosses and particularly liked the faces of the Green Men and the triple hares. He stood still on the ancient stone flags, neck tipped back as he studied the vaulted roof. It was too early for assembly so he had the place completely to himself. After a while his neck ached so he lay down on the floor on his back and found he could see the carvings perfectly in this position. Assembly was held standing, just a brief coming together to start the day, so there were no chairs in the way and he could stretch out in comfort. Magpie smiled at his discovery of a better way to view the ceiling, his turquoise eyes dreamy with pleasure as he lay there in his filthy coat gazing upwards and grinning.

Gradually other students started to arrive, stepping round to avoid the prone figure and giggling at his incongruity. Soon the hall was full of youngsters with an island of space around Magpie, who still lay on the floor oblivious to the mocking laughter and jibes. Sweyn was one of the more vociferous and even managed a well-aimed kick, which set some of the others off. Magpie sat up, confused and distressed, and by the time the teachers arrived there was a great deal of noise and jostling. Miranda was furious to find such a disturbance going on before assembly, which was usually a peaceful and orderly start to the day. When everyone parted to reveal Magpie sitting on the floor crying, she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

‘Get up, Magpie!’ she called. ‘It’s time for assembly, not a rest!’

This set everyone roaring with laughter, which made Magpie howl in fear.

‘Goddess but he’s an embarrassment!’ Swift hissed to Sweyn, flicking his hair aside in a gesture of contempt. ‘Wait till I tell Granny Violet about this. They should keep him at home – he’s too stupid for school anyway.’

‘Too bloody stupid for anything,’ growled Sweyn in sympathy. ‘We’ll tell Jay when he gets back from college tonight. He’ll sort the bugger out.’

Miranda was still trying to restore order so she could begin assembly. The other teachers waited around the dais and the students pushed one another to get a glimpse of the hilarious sight of Magpie having a rest. He continued to sob noisily, snot dripping from his nose.

‘Magpie!’ Miranda called firmly. ‘Get off the floor and stand up this minute! You’re making a complete fool of yourself!’

‘But it’s what Magpie does best!’ called someone, and the whole place erupted into laughter, even some of the adults joining in.

Leveret had arrived late as usual but heard the final exchange. With cheeks burning scarlet, she elbowed her way to where Magpie sat hunched up in utter confusion, his eyes frightened.

‘BE QUIET, THE LOT OF YOU!’ she shouted, her voice raising to the high rafters. She bent to one knee and put an arm around Magpie and several people wolf-whistled at this.

‘SHUT UP!’

She talked softly to the sobbing boy and taking his arm, helped him to stand up.

‘Come on, Maggy, we’ll go for a walk outside.’

He followed her docilely, head bent and still sniffing noisily. Leveret glared at everyone as she led him out. The hall had fallen completely silent and at the exit she stopped and turned, her cheeks flushed and eyes flashing green sparks. Her voice shook with disgust.

‘I hope you all feel ashamed of yourselves,’ she cried, ‘mocking and upsetting poor Magpie. Especially those of you who should know better!’

She looked daggers at Miranda up on the dais and there was no mistaking her intended insult.

‘Leveret!’ called Miranda over the many heads. ‘Come back here!’

But the girl turned and then, shockingly, made the ultimate gesture of contempt at her head-teacher. With a sharp downward flick of her flexed hand, the ancient Stonewylde sign meaning ‘Go to the Otherworld!’ she marched out with Magpie.

Of course there’d be a price to pay for her insolence, but Leveret ignored that. She spent the morning with Magpie walking in the woods and then up on the hills, not caring if she got into trouble. They went up to Hare Stone and sat with their backs to the great monolith, soaking up the mild November sunshine. Magpie was so distressed it took Leveret a long time to calm him down enough to communicate.

Eventually she understood from the vivid and shocking set of images that he flashed before her, what had happened the day before. He’d barely eaten and was so hungry, and he’d been forced to have a bath. Later, Jay had beaten him with Starling’s stick because he’d tried to take some bread when he thought nobody was looking. She understood that the three women had laughed at this, egging Jay on to further brutality. This morning he’d been pushed out of the house early and shouted at to get up to school, where he hadn’t been for ages. Magpie was bewildered and hurt and Leveret’s heart ached for him. He panicked sometimes and she worried that if there were more incidents like the one today he might one day turn and lash out at someone, and then be blamed for that as well.

They went back to the Hall at lunchtime because poor Magpie’s stomach was rumbling so badly, but rather than face the mass of people in the Dining Hall, Leveret took him through the walled kitchen gardens and straight to the kitchens. Yul had taken her as a small child to visit Marigold when Maizie and Miranda had spent so many hours interminably discussing their new-found leadership. Marigold was one of the few at Stonewylde who actually liked the odd dark-haired girl, but her plump face crumpled in disapproval at the sight of Magpie on the door step in his filthy coat.

‘No, Leveret, I’m sorry my love but I’m not having him in the kitchens.’

‘But Marigold, he’s starving!’

‘I’ll give him some food but he must eat it outside. He’s crawling with dirt and goddess knows what else.’

‘He can’t help it. Everyone’s so cruel to poor Magpie and it’s not his fault. He’s the gentlest, sweetest person I know.’

‘I’m sure he is, dear, but he’s not coming in my kitchens.’

She brought a great plate of rabbit pie, potatoes, vegetables and gravy to the door, and a spoon, remembering that he had trouble with any other sort of cutlery.

‘You’re wonderful, Marigold – thank you. He told me you’re kind to him when he’s working in the kitchen gardens and that you feed him sometimes.’

‘That’s right, dear. Poor mite – he always looks so lost and hungry. But he didn’t tell you that, surely? He’s mute.’

‘Sign language,’ she said quickly. ‘We use sign language.’

Marigold shook her head at this.

‘I’d have thought that were beyond the poor boy. Still, he trusts you and you’re a kind maid. I do look out for him and I will whenever I can. I feel sorry for the lad, all filthy and frightened and no one to care for him. Makes me wish I could take him under my wing and clean him up, teach him how to live proper. That mother of his is a really nasty piece o’ work, and as for them two old crones …’

She broke off and fearfully made the sign of the pentangle on her chest.

‘Just look what they done to my Lily’s son! Jay’s turned out bad, just like his father and ‘tis all their doing. If Magus’d let me look after that little boy from the start, when my poor Lily were murdered, Jay would’ve grown up very different. But oh no, not Magus. “Marigold,” he says, “you’re needed here in the Hall kitchens. I can’t lose you just to bring up a little boy when he has another granny about.” Well! If that’s not—’

‘Thanks again!’ said Leveret cheerfully, taking the laden plate across the courtyard to where Magpie sat waiting patiently. Marigold was kind, but she was also infamous for her moaning sessions about the loss of her grandson Jay to her rival Vetchling.

Later Leveret braved the Hall, knowing her rudeness wouldn’t go unpunished. First she had to face Miranda, who was still furious. Leveret adopted her usual tactic of sullen silence, refusing to apologise or try to make amends. She knew she was in the right and saw any kind of climb-down as tantamount to condoning Miranda’s treatment of Magpie. Her punishment was work detail every night at the Hall for a week. The boarding students had work detail only twice a week so this was a harsh punishment, especially as Miranda said she’d make sure the work was nothing easy.

‘Window cleaning, grate polishing, stone floor scrubbing – I shall make sure Cherry gives you the hardest jobs. I am very, very angry with you for your rudeness, Leveret. You know our fundamental laws as well as anyone, and children don’t ever behave so rudely towards their elders. To show such contempt and insolence towards me, especially in front of the whole school, was unforgivable.’

Leveret was pleased that Miranda felt she’d lost face, and still felt perfectly justified.

‘I think it’s unforgivable the way Magpie’s treated,’ she retorted.

‘Oh come now, Leveret – I was trying to make light of the situation in assembly. I could see he was becoming distressed and I was —’

‘No!’ cried Leveret. ‘It’s more than that. Nobody cares about him! Nobody makes sure he has enough to eat or looks after him! I’m sick of everyone laughing at him and —’

‘But that’s Maizie’s role, surely? Haven’t you spoken to your mother about this, if you’re concerned for his welfare?’

Leveret flashed her a look of scorn.

‘Of course I have! And all Mother says is that his family are a law unto themselves and she can’t interfere.’

‘I can’t believe that Maizie hasn’t said anything to them, if there really is a problem,’ said Miranda firmly. ‘And anyway, looking at Magpie, he’s tall and well-grown for a sixteen year old, isn’t he? So he obviously is fed reasonably well.’

‘But he’s so dirty, and —’

‘Yes, I’ll give you that. And we can insist that he washes properly – I’ll have a word with Maizie about that. But Leveret, his family aren’t the easiest of people, as you know. They remind me of how it was when I first moved here from the Outside World all those years ago. Some of the Villagers seemed really filthy but it was just a way of life here, living close to the land and not worrying about a bit of dirt.’

Leveret shook her head in despair.

‘You don’t understand and you’re doing just what Mother always does when I try and say something! You just don’t know how Magpie’s really treated. And as for Jay, his cousin – he makes Maggie’s life a misery.’

Miranda frowned at the stubborn girl.

‘Seeing as how Jay goes off to college in the Outside World every day, and boards at the Hall, I don’t really see that he gets much opportunity to interact with Magpie. And anyway, Leveret, how come you know all this? We’re all aware that Magpie’s mute, so how do you know what goes on in his home? I think you’re just getting yourself all worked up about nothing much, and —’

‘I don’t know why I ever expect anyone to listen,’ said Leveret bitterly.

‘I think you’ll find I have listened, actually,’ said Miranda sharply. ‘I’ve listened and told you I’ll speak to Maizie about Magpie’s lack of personal hygiene. I don’t believe the other issues you’ve raised to be valid. And besides, we’re here to discuss your rudeness this morning and your complete lack of contrition or apology.’

Leveret sighed heavily and Miranda glared at her.

‘I’ll have to tell Yul about this and I know he’ll be as disappointed as I am. You’ve really let your family down with such behaviour. Maizie will be equally upset.’

‘As you’re punishing me already, do they really need to know?’ asked Leveret, trying to keep the dread from her voice.

‘Yes, they certainly do need to know – exactly as I’d want to know if Rufus had behaved badly. You two have to set an example to all the others. Rufus knows that and I’m sure you do too!’

Leveret rolled her eyes at this, having heard it a hundred times before from her own mother. It was no fun being related to the leaders of Stonewylde.

‘Now you’re being rude again, Leveret! What’s the matter with you? I know Maizie’s a good mother who brought you up properly so there’s no excuse for this sort of behaviour. Do you want me to make it two weeks instead of one?’

Leveret merely shrugged at this, her eyes stonily glazed into an expression of bored contempt. Miranda was reminded of some of the fights she’d had with Sylvie at this age. Leveret was fourteen, going on fifteen, just the age that Sylvie had been when they left the Outside World and moved to Stonewylde. Sylvie had argued and flounced about during their arguments so they always had a good fight and cleared the air. But this girl was far more insolent and something in her eyes said that she knew she was above all this and bored by such mundane engagement. It was difficult to ignore the deliberate disrespect.

‘Right, two weeks it is! Go back to your lessons and wait to hear from Yul.’

Yul had exploded and actually reduced Leveret to tears, which was some feat given her normal defensive tactics. His anger was formidable. He seemed to glow with it, sparking fury with every flash of his eyes. He said that for the next two weeks while she was on work detail, she’d move into his family apartments and sleep in one of the bedrooms further down the corridor so he could watch over her. She’d not be allowed to leave the Hall for the whole time – no roaming around Stonewylde and no wandering off and disappearing. As Leveret thought of the Moon Fullness that night and then the Dark Moon in two weeks’ time, her heart plummeted. Now she wouldn’t be able to gather anything for her collection and there was a whole list of things she needed to prepare. She’d intended to try her spell at the Winter Solstice having missed her chance at Samhain. She bowed her head in misery.

‘Good, I see I’ve finally got through to you! We’ll find Mother and tell her what’s happening.’

He smiled triumphantly as Leveret gazed at the floor in tearful despair. Maizie stood with her arms folded and nodded.

‘’Twill be strange being on my own in the cottage,’ she said, ‘but you do what you think best, Yul. I’m pleased you can all see now what I’m up against. Good to know ‘tis not just me. She’s become a nasty young girl and let’s hope that this punishment sorts her out once and for all. Sweyn and Gefrin were only asking today what’s to become of her, and could they help at all. Those two are really turning out well after all – I feel proud o’ them.’

Leveret let out a strangled cry at this.

‘Do you have something to say?’ asked Yul coldly.

‘None of you know!’ cried Leveret. ‘The things they’ve done to me …’

‘Sweyn and Gefrin? What things?’

‘All sorts, always, all my life!’ she shouted, her voice cracking with emotion. ‘They’ve hurt me, broken my things, mocked me, shouted at me, almost drowned me—’

‘So why didn’t you tell Mother?’

‘I did!’ she wailed. ‘I’ve always tried to tell her!’

‘Aye, she’s a great one for telling tales,’ frowned Maizie. ‘But after a while I took no notice. If even half of what she claimed were true, they’d be complete monsters. Don’t believe her, Yul. She tells lies to try and get them into trouble, I reckon.’

‘No I don’t!’

‘This “drowning” is a good example,’ said Maizie heatedly, her cheeks flushing. ‘She told me Sweyn had tried to drown her in the old apple-bobbing barrel at Samhain! She’d even managed to convince Clip and he came telling tales too! I spoke to our Sweyn and he laughed. He admitted it straight away, dunking her head in the water, but he said ‘twas only a quick bob to bring her back to her senses, seeing as she were in some sort o’ trance . But o’ course Clip got the wrong idea and took her away with him up to the Dolmen of all places! It ruined my Samhain, worrying myself about her and all the time she were fast asleep up in that cave!’

‘You always take their side! You never believe me even when someone else backs me up. And last time they came round to babysit I almost died of suffocation!’

‘Don’t be daft!’ said Maizie sharply. ‘I recall you were told to do the weaving and you didn’t. ‘Tis just another of your —’

‘It’s true!’ Leveret was crying now, a terrible combination of anger and frustration. ‘They told you I’d fallen over but they’d locked me in the cupboard for hours.’

‘Which cupboard?’ asked Yul. ‘I don’t—’

‘The one in your old bedroom! Under the eaves.’

Yul stared at her, any half-conviction he may have harboured turning to cold disbelief.

‘Now I know you’re lying, Leveret. That cupboard’s tiny – you’d never fit in there.’

‘But I did!’ she screamed. ‘They shoved me in so hard I thought I was going to die! They are monsters and they make my life a misery! Why won’t anyone believe me? I hate you all!’

Leveret became hysterical, screaming and flinging the things on Yul’s desk to the floor. She wanted to destroy everything in her frustration at their indifference to her suffering. Yul restrained her, kicking and screeching, pinning her flailing arms to her side and lifting her bodily onto the sofa where he held her down.

‘Get Hazel, with something to calm her down,’ he commanded. Maizie was paralysed with shock at the sight of Leveret so out of control; the girl had lost all reason. She tried to phone through to the hospital wing but Hazel wasn’t there. Then abruptly the screaming and thrashing stopped and Leveret’s eyes rolled up to reveal the whites. She started to shake.

‘Oh goddess, she’s having one of her turns,’ moaned Maizie.

‘What’s the matter with her? Have I hurt her?’

‘No, no she does this sometimes. Remember? How she used to go blank when she were little? She still does it sometimes, never grew out of it as we thought she would. Let go of her, Yul. She’ll come round in a minute.’

‘Can you find Hazel anyway? She should see this.’

Whilst Maizie was out of the study looking for the doctor, Yul stared down at his youngest sister in consternation, smoothing the curls back from her ashen face. Her breathing became deeper and then the shaking stopped. Her eyes rolled back down and she gazed up at him in complete confusion.

‘The darkness and the brightness will be torn asunder,’ she whispered. ‘Stonewylde will tremble – the magic will die and the earth and the moon will dance here no longer. The sacred spirals will unravel and all will be eclipsed by the evil that comes. It’s already started.’

‘What?’ he gasped. ‘What are you talking about, Leveret?’

All he’d really taken in was the part about the darkness and the brightness being torn asunder, which was a little too close to the truth to be dismissed. But Leveret merely shook her head and, by the time Hazel arrived with her bag, no longer remembered saying anything at all. Leveret was taken to the hospital wing for the night but seemed fine, other than sobbing for several hours into the alien pillow at her isolation and the injustice of her treatment.