top of the hill and leant back against the rock, feeling the peculiar comfort that such sacred stones bring. He was alive to the energy of the place, receiving it and yet not diminishing it. As he stood gazing across at the sea in the distance, mist began to swirl in from the fields below. It came slowly at first, soft tendrils extending cool fingers across the warm land but gathering in mass as more cold air poured in from the sea shore. Being right on the coast and backed by hills, Stonewylde had its own microclimate which could change with remarkable speed.
His thoughts were still of Sylvie, not as she’d been all those years ago but as she was today. He loved her dearly although found this difficult to express. He and his younger brother had led a cold and unloved childhood and Clip was well aware of his stunted emotional nature, though he hoped Sylvie knew how deeply he cared for her. He’d been worried about her lately. Wrapped up though he was in his world of dreams and shadows, and bogged down in reality by the responsibility of leading Stonewylde, even he’d noticed the aura of sadness about her. She was such a gentle soul, very like him in many ways, although not cursed with the weaknesses he so despised in himself. He’d tried to shield her from the relentless duty that ownership of such a vast place entailed.
He knew that Yul, now almost twenty-nine years old and experienced and well educated, was ready and desperately keen to officially don the mantle of full leadership. Yul was a strong and intelligent man and Clip knew he could pass on the responsibility with complete confidence. Yul had the same talent for leadership as his father, but without the vices. And yet … something wasn’t quite right. Sylvie was unhappy and until he’d unravelled the problem, maybe he should hold on just a little longer. He didn’t doubt Yul’s love and passion for his beautiful wife, but if she was sad there must be a good reason.
His decision made, Clip closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the stone at his back and the coolness of the autumn mist below. Reality began to spiral away. He embraced the familiar trance sensations so easily conjured after a lifetime of journeying into other realms. With so much hallucinogen residue in his system, it was often difficult to distinguish between what was real and what was not – and even more difficult to care. For after all – what was reality other than just another layer of meaning?
*
He saw a beautiful golden hare, her eyes amber and her fur flecked with all shades of autumn, sitting in a pool of sunlight. Her great ears stood upright with the dark tips slightly bent outward and she looked him straight in the eye.
He glanced up above the clearing in the woods at a circling bird of prey. The buzzard mewed and called as it floated on the thermals, white wing markings clearly visible. Many corvids perched up in the branches watching the hare intently, then the great hawk let out a piercing cry and all the birds flew up out of the trees.
Now it was night time but still the hare waited, ears and whiskers twitching. She watched as the Green Man appeared from the dusky shadows, his wild hair wreathed with leaves. Together the hare and the man gazed up at the darkening sky as the full moon rose and the Goddess as Mother walked silently in the fields of the starry heavens.
But the air became cold with a terrible, black iciness, and then it was coming – an unmentionable evil that lurched and dragged itself from the Wildwood and out into the open, making all hope and beauty wilt. Slowly it slithered across the silver moon, eclipsing the brightness till all was dark and crimson. The woodland shrivelled and everything began to wither; the Green Man bowed his head in sorrow at the decay all around him. Only the hare remained undaunted, and then suddenly she leapt, her golden eyes gleaming with star fire and magic, as she flew up into the dark night sky straight into the deep blood-red eye of the moon …
With a jolt Clip came back to the misty autumn afternoon and found himself surrounded by a sea of fog. It lapped around the island of Hare Stone where he stood with his back against the stone. The