damn well better be. And another thing – Mother says you won’t go down to the Barn to join in the festivities. Why is that?’
She shrugged uncomfortably.
‘I … I didn’t feel well enough.’
‘Rubbish! You ate some harmless mushrooms. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you at all.’
He poured the last of the mead into his glass and examined it, staring at the gold liquid.
‘Do you know what I think, Leveret? I think you’re embarrassed to go and face everyone after what you did. But I think a bit of humiliation is just what you need. So you’ll join in everything from now on – I insist.’
She gazed at him mournfully but nodded her obedience, having no real choice. He drained the glass suddenly in one gulp and turned to smile at her. His eyes were still dark but not quite so intense and focused any more. His smile made her go cold – it was a smile without any warmth, a cruel smile. Leveret felt she was looking at a stranger.
‘I’m pleased we had the chance to talk alone,’ he said, standing up. He swayed ever so slightly but quickly righted himself. ‘Remember what I’ve said. I expect you to be perfect and if you’re not, I’ll deal with you personally.’
He opened the door and breathed deeply of the cold air outside, then turned and fixed her once more with his steely glare.
‘Bright blessings at Yule, little sister.’
16
The next day Leveret walked up to the Hall to see Magpie, very nervous about leaving her sanctuary and facing everyone. As she stomped down the lane, she realised she had a choice now, a significant one. She could skulk around as if she were embarrassed and ashamed, or she could take control of her situation and brazen it out. So she made her decision and felt much better for it. She met several people along the way but smiled and greeted them as if nothing had happened, and apart from a few stares, people were fine. In the Hall a group of older girls were standing in the entrance hall pulling on gloves and hats. They fell silent as she walked in and she felt awkward, feeling their eyes on her.
‘Blessings, Leveret,’ said one.
‘Blessings,’ she replied, smiling brightly at the whole group. It felt strange; normally she kept her head down and never looked people in the eye, wanting to avoid unnecessary contact. There was a pause whilst they all watched her.
‘We … we heard about what happened,’ said Iris, the elder of Kestrel’s two sisters and Leveret nodded. ‘You must’ve been feeling awful to have done that. Was it very frightening?’
‘No, not really frightening. I was just so unhappy I wasn’t thinking straight, I suppose. But it’s in the past now.’
‘Yes of course. I expect you just want to forget it ever happened.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Well, we’re sorry anyway. If you’re feeling down again don’t bottle it up, will you? There’s always someone to talk to if you need it.’
Leveret looked at them in astonishment and blushed with pleasure at the kind words.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’ll remember that.’
Magpie, still in the hospital wing, was doing very well. He sat in a chair by the window with a sketch pad and pencils, drawing the rooks flying around like bits of black ash in the grey skies. His smile was radiant when he saw Leveret and he leapt up, scattering pencils, and engulfed her in a great hug. She hugged him back and for the first time it was a pleasant experience; he didn’t smell horrible and she wasn’t worried about catching head lice.
‘You’re looking wonderful, Magpie. Let me see what you’re drawing? That’s fantastic!’
Her praise was genuine for he was a truly talented artist. Using just soft graphite pencils he’d captured the wintry scene perfectly. The rooks were exquisite, as if he truly understood rooks and what made them rooks rather than starlings or blackbirds or crows. He’d captured their essence in the way they flew, the angle of their wings, the way they positioned themselves in the sky. She could almost hear them calling.
‘You’re such a good artist, Magpie. We must make sure you get the chance to develop it, now your life’s all new and exciting. Who gave you the sketch pad and pencils?’
Using their special way of communicating, Magpie let Leveret know that it was Hazel and that she’d promised him paints too. She held his hand and looked at him and the image of the doctor came into her mind