by Kit Berry
‘Do you like my new cloak?’ she asked happily. ‘It’s a present from Magus to keep me warm while I moondance for him tonight. Isn’t it lovely? And these amazing new clothes and boots – they were all a surprise. He said I must be very good for him tonight and give him all my moon magic and I mustn’t make any fuss about feeling ill afterwards. I can stay in bed for two days if I’m tired but then I must get completely back to normal. He said if I can manage that he’ll buy me some more winter clothes, really beautiful ones. I’m so excited! I’m fed up with Holly laughing at me for looking dowdy.’
Yul closed his eyes and groaned; he couldn’t bear it when she talked like this. The sooner he could take her to Mother Heggy and have the spell lifted, the better. But he had to agree, the cloak was lovely and he’d never seen Sylvie dressed like this, all in black and looking so stylish; she was stunning. They reached the tree where he’d tethered the mare and Sylvie jumped with pleasure.
‘Are we both going to ride her? We won’t be too heavy for her?’
‘She’s very strong. She belongs Edward, and he probably weighs as much as the two of us put together. Can you ride?’
She shook her head.
‘But I want to learn and I’m not scared.’
‘Well now’s your chance, Sylvie. We’ll use this fallen trunk here to help us mount. I’ll get up first and you sit behind and hold on tight to me.’
Soon they were up, Sylvie with her arms round his waist. Feeling her thighs gripping around him and her breasts against his back made Yul weak with wanting her. But he put a firm lid on his feelings and concentrated on guiding the mare back along the path towards the glade. Sylvie was chatty and animated, almost too much so, and he remembered how she was at Moon Fullness before the moonrise. Her hyper-activity could only get worse until the moon had risen.
The woods were misty and damp in the grey afternoon. Most of the leaves had fallen to make a soggy mulch on the woodland floor. Prickly sweet-chestnut cases were mixed up with the leaves, along with spiky beech mast shells and the split rinds of conker cases. Some yellow sycamore leaves still clung on to their branches, as did the serrated kipper-like leaves of the sweet chestnut, now a deep golden brown. But the sky was visible through the bare branches elsewhere, and although he was pleased it was so mild, Yul hoped the rain would hold off while he and Sylvie were outside.
Eventually they reached the little glade, a clearing deep in the woods where emerald green grass grew thickly. They dismounted and Sylvie darted about exclaiming over the dozens of fairy rings in the dell. The little toadstools sprouted in the wet grass in large near-perfect circles. Yul tethered the mare to a tree so she could crop the grass and take shelter if it did start to rain.
‘Why have you tied her up?’ asked Sylvie. ‘Are we staying here? You remember I need to be back before it gets dark? You know it’s the Moon Fullness tonight, and I must dance at—’
‘Yes, I know,’ said Yul wearily, thinking that maybe a gag wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all. He really wasn’t so keen on Sylvie when she was caught in Clip’s spell – this wasn’t the real her at all. ‘Come on, we’re going for a little walk up here. There’s plenty of time.’
She skipped on ahead of him up the path. It wasn’t cold and she’d thrown back her hood and put her gloves in his bag. Yul tried to keep her mind off the moonrise by showing her some of the fungi growing on the woodland floor, remembering she’d shown an interest in it before.
‘See this one, Sylvie? It’s the Earth Star. See how it’s split into segments like the points of a star.’
‘It’s lovely,’ she said, bending down and looking carefully at the white star on the dark ground. ‘Oh, those purple ones – they’re Amethyst Deceivers, aren’t they?’
‘That’s right,’ he said, surveying the great troop of purple-lilac caps. ‘They’re edible. We’ll come out mushroom harvesting one day and Mother can cook them for you to try. I love mushrooms on toast – it’s my favourite breakfast. And look, there’s Velvet Shank. See how smooth and velvety its stalks are, like the texture of your cloak. Oh, Sylvie, see those through there? Don’t ever touch those – that’s the Destroying Angel.’
‘They’re poisonous then?’
‘Deadly poisonous; fatal.’
‘They look quite innocent, just a white mushroom. I’d never know they were dangerous.’
‘That’s the trouble; some of the most deadly are the most innocent looking.’
‘I love their names. They sound so beautiful, don’t they? Amethyst Deceiver, Velvet Shank, Destroying Angel. You know so much, Yul.’
He shrugged, remembering what Mother Heggy had said about his ignorance.
‘I know very little compared to you and the other Hallfolk. But I know a lot about Stonewylde and that’s what matters to me.’
They covered some distance and he managed to keep her distracted for quite a time before she stopped on the path and began to fret.
‘I really think we should go back now, Yul. It’s getting late and I don’t want to make Magus angry. Please let’s go back now.’
‘Just a little further, Sylvie,’ he coaxed. ‘There’s a really lovely tree I especially wanted to show you. We’ll get back in good time and I can make the horse gallop if you like, so our journey will be really fast.’
‘Oh yes, I’d like that!’ she cried and ran on ahead.
‘Look, Sylvie, you must know these!’ he said, pointing to a crop of bright red toadstools covered with white sugar crystal spots. They were too brilliant – poisonously scarlet, like something from a fairy tale. Sylvie, in her scarlet cloak, gazed down at the sinister toadstools growing under quiet silver birches and sighed. Yul remembered then a story Clip had told all the children once, long ago. It was a horrific tale about a wicked witch living deep in the woods, who lured children with exotic cakes, actually the caps of these red and white toadstools. She had a wooden cage hidden away where she’d fatten up her captured victims before feasting on their tender flesh and spinning their hair into thread for a magical cloak. Yul shuddered. The tale had terrified him as a boy and it still upset him now.
‘Yes,’ said Sylvie thoughtfully, remembering her encounter with the crones. ‘I’ve seen these before – they’re Fly Agaric! I always thought they were fatal but Mother Heggy told me she uses them in some of her potions as they have magical properties. And those two old women, Violet and Vetchling, they collect them too.’
‘Let’s see what else we can find,’ he said, taking her hand in his and leading her deeper into the overgrown woods.
But he could only keep fooling her for so long, and eventually she stopped and refused to go any further. She was getting panicky, looking at the darkening sky between the branches.
‘Please, please, Yul. I have to get back. You don’t understand. Magus’ll be so angry and I’m scared when he’s angry. He frightens me, the way he looks at me sometimes. Please can we go back now? You promised you’d get me home in time and he needs my magic tonight.’
Yul knew it wasn’t too far now to the tree cages, but he couldn’t force her there without either tricking her again, or tying her up to prevent her making a break for it. He wondered how he could actually achieve this; it was all very well Mother Heggy saying he was much stronger than she was, but he wouldn’t use brute force to subjugate her. He decided to try to trick her first, and guided her off at a tangent, explaining that this was a different way back, a short cut. But after a little while she became agitated again and convinced they were lost. He managed to reassure her and started to point out things he swore they’d already passed on their way, to prove they were retracing their steps.
‘I know, Sylvie,’ he said, sounding false to his own ears but getting desperate as he realised this ploy wouldn’t last much longer. ‘We’re well on our way back now, so why don’t we play a game as we go along? It’s a sort of blind man’s buff game from our celebrations at Beltane in the woods and it’s really fun. You must wear this little piece of rope
around your wrists. Let me show you.’
‘Okay,’ she said, ‘as long as it won’t slow us down at all.’
She held out her slim white wrists, smiling at him trustingly. He gazed into her exquisitely pretty face, her cheeks pink from the fresh air and her eyes bright, and felt a stab of guilt at the deception. Hands shaking in haste, he bound her wrists firmly together. He used much of the rope, going right up her forearms, and left a length as a halter with which to lead her. Then he took the gag out of his pocket and tied it firmly round her mouth. Her eyes were round with surprise but it was too late now. She was tied up, he had a lead with which to guide her, or pull her along if it became necessary, and she couldn’t talk him out of it or cry for help. He saw the bewilderment on her face and took her by the shoulders, looking her into her clear grey eyes.
‘I’m really sorry, Sylvie, and if there were any other way … But there isn’t. There wasn’t time to make a better plan than this. I’ll look after you until the moon has risen and then I’ll take you back to the Hall. Magus won’t steal your moon magic tonight. But I’m so sorry to trick you like this.’
She started to make muffled noises of protest and pulled away. He tugged the rope bringing her back towards him. She pulled really hard, trying to run in the opposite direction and as he yanked her back she fell, silver hair spilling everywhere as she hit the ground. He crouched over her trying to avoid the accusation in her eyes.
‘I’m sorry, Sylvie, I really don’t want to hurt you. Are you alright?’
She shook her head violently.
‘Where does it hurt?’
She shook her head again. Sighing, he helped her to stand and led her further along the path. It was still about half a mile to the tree cage and he wanted to get her there as soon as possible. The light was beginning to fade, although it was difficult to judge the time on such a gloomy afternoon. Long skeins of mist appeared on the woodland floor wending around the tree trunks, and the cobwebs that laced the bare branches and dead bracken were jewelled with falling dew. It was becoming steadily darker and colder.
Sylvie followed him docilely for a while, only tugging on the halter in defiance now and again. But then she stopped dead without warning. When Yul turned to check she was alright, she swung her bound arms sideways at his head. The heavy clump of rope around her wrists hit him hard on the temple and he saw stars for a few seconds, the world turning black with shooting red and yellow flashes.
She took her chance. Yanking the rope from his limp hands, she ran back the way they’d come. He stumbled, trying to grab the rope, slowed by his dizziness and the pain in head. She was very quick but it wasn’t easy to run with her hands tied so awkwardly in front of her and it didn’t take him long to catch up. He leapt at her, knocking her down and landing on top of her. She felt lithe and wriggly underneath him, squirming onto her back to fight him. She thrashed about, trying to push him off and hit him in the face again with her bound wrists, fighting and growling like a captured wildcat.
Yul struggled upright and straddled her thrashing body, finally using his weight to subdue her. He remembered how effective it’d been when Buzz had sat astride him like this. Her eyes screamed fury at him and he was sure that if she’d been free and had a weapon, she’d have tried to kill him. The moongaziness combined with the hypnosis had made her lose all reason and his head throbbed painfully where she’d hit him, proof of just how changed she was.
He gazed down at her lying stretched out under him. Her bound wrists were pulled above her head, his knees pinning her upper arms hard to the ground, and he felt her rib cage digging into him. He tried to figure out what to do next; they were almost there but he knew if he took any weight off her for a second she’d squirm and try to escape. But he couldn’t spend long sitting on her like this; she was gasping for breath through the gag and he was crushing her badly.
Eventually, seeing no other option, he told her that she’d have to behave or else he’d hit her as she’d hit him. The words stuck in his throat but he had to get her to the tree cage quickly. Darkness was falling and soon the moon would rise and then she’d really be uncontrollable.
He pulled himself off and hauled her to her feet quite roughly to show her he meant business. He wound most of the rope halter around her, pinning her bound arms down across her stomach so she couldn’t hit him again. Then, holding her from behind, he pushed her along. She resisted all the way, jerking and fighting him, until his patience wore thin and he became annoyed with her. He was only trying to protect her but she was making it so difficult. He shoved her along when she resisted, making her stumble, and prodded her hard when she wouldn’t move. She was so stubborn and as his irritation increased he became rougher with her. At last he could see the tree cage up ahead in the twilight. Relief flooded him – now he just had to get her in there and seal the entrance.
Yul felt the moment when she understood his intent. She thrashed and squealed, digging the heels of her pretty suede boots into the earth. The scarlet cloak was driving him mad for he kept getting tangled in it. With a snarl of anger he wrenched open the fastening at the neck and ripped it off her. It was suddenly much easier to grab her bodily and lift her off the ground, especially with her arms bound to her. Despite her height, she was very light. He shoved her forcefully through the gap between the trunks of the tree cage, bundling her in and trying to avoid her kicking feet. He no longer worried about hurting her.
He knew she bashed her head on the trunk and scraped her leg as he thrust her through the gap, but he was beyond caring. He pushed her in hard and she fell down in a heap inside the small cage, giving him time to frantically bind the thick rope around the two trunks and seal the opening. His hands shook as he wrapped the rope around and around, leaving no gap she could escape through.
‘Try getting out of that!’ he snapped triumphantly, breathless with anger and exertion. His head was really painful and he gingerly explored the lump growing there. She hadn’t tried to get up from the crumpled heap where she lay, but he knew she was conscious because she was watching him, glaring at him in the murky dusk. Yul turned his back on her and went to sit some distance away, drinking from the water bottle he’d brought up earlier. He was shaking and made a conscious effort to calm himself. He was so angry he felt like leaving her bound and gagged in that cage all night, just to teach her a lesson.
Eventually his breathing returned to normal and the anger evaporated. All he felt now was a dull throb on the temple where she’d hit him, and a weariness in his heart. Miserably he got up and went over to the tree cage. Sylvie was hunched over uncomfortably, her hands still tied to her stomach, a huddled black figure with the gag tight around her mouth. Her hair was all tangled up around the gag, spilling into her eyes in a silver mass and covering her face where she couldn’t brush it away. She looked like a small wild animal, caught in a trap and waiting to be killed.
In the gloom, he saw that her eyes were desperate. She was pitiful and his desire to hurt and punish her vanished in an instant. She trembled almost convulsively and he realised her cloak was still lying outside the cage where he’d flung it in anger. Yul tried to push it through the gaps to cover her but it just fell in beside her. He put his hands through and pulled it over her, but she wriggled away from him and it fell off again. He wondered if the moon was rising yet, for her eyes were unfocused now, enormous and shining, gazing at nothing. She must be incredibly uncomfortable but she didn’t seem to notice anything. Sighing, he sat down with his back to the cage and hung his head guiltily, not wanting to watch her captive misery.
9
Back at the Hall, all hell had broken loose. Earlier in the afternoon Magus had called in to their rooms and Miranda had assured him that Sylvie was fast asleep in her bedroom. He was pleased to hear it and stopped to chat for a few minutes.
‘How are you? Everything alright?’
‘I’m fine thank you, Magus. I missed you while you were away. I never seem to spend any time with you nowadays.’
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‘I know,’ he replied, perching on the arm of the sofa where she sat knitting baby-clothes. He stroked her long red hair absentmindedly. ‘There’s so much on at the moment. I’ve got a lot of business deals going through, which will mean greater revenue for Stonewylde. I’m also trying to set up the new building projects that I want to start after the Solstice and there aren’t enough hours in the day right now.’
‘Poor you,’ she said softly, rubbing his leg where it lay, long and muscular, next to her along the arm of the sofa. She was desperate for his company. ‘Is there anything I can do to help? I can write letters and reports, things like that.’
He laughed at this and shook his head.
‘No, it’s not the sort of thing anyone can help with. It’s all up here.’ He tapped his forehead. ‘How you can help is by looking after that daughter of yours and making sure she dances up at Mooncliffe every Moon Fullness. You have no idea how vital it is to me, Miranda. You must make sure she’s fit and healthy for it every month so you need to keep her weight up and not let her roam about wasting energy. I want her healthy and strong and I’m counting on you to make sure she is.’
‘Of course,’ she smiled. ‘I know you have her best interests at heart. She’s sleeping now, as you wanted, and she’ll be fine for her dancing tonight. She certainly seems to love it.’
‘Good – I’m really pleased she’s taken to her new regime of healthy eating and more sleep so readily, and well done for your part in it, Miranda. I’ll try and spend some time with you in December if I can fit it in.’
‘Oh yes!’ she said breathlessly. ‘That’d be wonderful. I miss you so much.’
She laid her head against his thigh and sighed. He chuckled and reached down to caress her, feeling her melt against him.
‘Not that long until the baby’s due, is it? Less than three months? Then I shall have to make you pregnant all over again.’