and we don’t yet know what form it’ll take. We must wait calmly and perhaps get a glimpse, if the time is right. If not, we’ll both travel with my wolf.’
Leveret couldn’t see the wolf or anything else. Nothing was coming – it was just warm and bright.
Suddenly there was a great black presence. It crowded out the brightness with its blue-blackness, its glossiness, its quills and barbs. There was a great pointed beak and a knowing eye and then it shrank into clear focus – a great crow! No – it was a raven! Leveret smiled and her heart welcomed her raven, her spirit guide. The massive bird bowed its head and then she saw the wolf too, silver and lithe, standing next to her raven. Together the wolf and the raven moved forward into the brightness and then she saw two shadowy figures following – herself and Clip, insubstantial compared to their vibrant guides. Their steps were steady as they walked towards the source of the radiance.
And then they were in a wood – all around them the birds sang and squirrels leapt from branch to branch. It was green and fresh, every plant and tree sparkling with crystal droplets of dew. There was an archway amongst the trees made of boughs that arced together overhead. Feathers hung from the archway and the wolf and raven brushed past them through the gap.
‘Only follow if you will,’ said the raven, although its beak didn’t move and the voice was soft but sweet.
The shadowy Clip took Leveret’s hand and together they stooped and went through the archway into the realm of dreams.
They journeyed far in that strange place and Leveret saw things which amazed her. It was a wondrous place, not frightening in the least, but so different from the world of reality. They saw sights and tasted scents that were so far removed from the everyday as to be magical. They journeyed far but then it was time to return, and up ahead they saw the archway with its hanging feathers. By the curved boughs the wolf and raven paused. The raven grew large again, filling her vision with its blue-black glossiness.
‘You may ask one question,’ it said gently. ‘But I may be unable to answer and you may be unsatisfied. Ask me now.’
Leveret thought swiftly, for time was trickling rapidly out through the arch.
‘Will Mother Heggy return to guide me in the world of reality?’
The raven cocked its head.
‘She cannot return who’s not truly departed. She’s waited long for you and she’s ready – it was you who wasn’t ready.’
They bent and passed again under the arch into the place of brightness. All around was radiance but gradually it dimmed into greyness, and then the fire appeared and the shadows of the room were all around. The flames had died down to a deep red glow illuminating Clip’s smiling, joyful face.
‘I knew you were the special, magical one, Little Hare,’ he said softly. ‘I felt it in my bones. You’re here to succeed me and now I know that the spirit of Stonewylde will be in safe hands.’
20
On the Village Green, the young men were practising their marksmanship with the bow. Several groups had gathered in the bright sunlight and a gaggle of girls stood around watching and making a lot of noise. The scene was quite idyllic with the Village Green surrounded by mature trees, mostly skeletal in mid-winter, but displaying their different textures and colours of bark in the low winter sun. The Great Barn stood behind them like a massive mother, golden and ancient, a haven and gathering place for all. The smaller building, the Jack in the Green, nestled close by and all the cottages clustered nearby like chicks around a hen. Smoke trickled from most chimneys promising cosiness inside and something tasty bubbling on the range. A woman walked by with two small children in tow, all wrapped up warmly in bright woollen jackets and thick felt hats. A youth pulled along a great trolley of logs and a man clattered by on a horse, whilst a crowd of children played on the cobbled street in the wide area outside the Barn, chasing each other and laughing.
The targets had been set up at the far end of the ancient clearing in front of the trees, just as they’d been for centuries and centuries – great woven circles of thick straw with a small star made of card in the centre marking the bullseye.