who knew the right words and the right rituals. And two such ones did know, the two who waited patiently by the Altar Stone watching the energy growing, waiting for midnight. Then the invitation would be made under the spell of the Dark Moon, and maybe it would be received and accepted by the one to whom it was made. Maybe he’d be able to cross back into the world of the living and walk once more upon the earth of the goddess. Maybe, if the ritual was perfect and the will was strong.
In the Village the celebrations were in full swing. The huge bonfire in the playing fields still blazed but the initial conflagration had died down to a white heat. Smaller cooking fires burned low all around, the forgotten fragments of food burning to a crisp. The air was rich with the smells of roasting meat, baked potatoes and toasted chestnuts. The damp grass had been trampled by many feet shuffling and dancing in great circles, faces scorched by the inferno and hearts leaping with excitement. Samhain was a wonderful festival enjoyed by most at Stonewylde.
Older children still raced around outside in their black cloaks. Some wore masks and others had paint daubed on their faces, scaring each other and chasing around like kittens in the wind. Everyone had feasted well and the majority were now inside the Great Barn dancing and drinking. The younger ones had been taken home or to the Nursery and put to bed, away from all the wild behaviour.
The doors of the Great Barn were flung open to the night for it was very hot inside. The Jack o’ Lanterns flickered and grinned wickedly and the papier-mâché birds and skulls fluttered in the hot air. The musicians were playing frenziedly; the whole place shook with the vibrations of noise and thundering feet. Maizie sat in a quieter corner with Rosie and Robin, sipping miserably at her glass of elderberry wine.
‘Mother, do stop fretting about her,’ said Rosie, patting Maizie’s hand. ‘Remember what Sweyn said? She was all dozy and he splashed her to wake her up and then she went off with Clip. So we know she’ll be safe.’
‘But why did she leave the Barn? Where is she now?’
‘She’s probably up at the Hall. You said she looked strange – he’s doubtless taken her somewhere quiet. We all know how stubborn and difficult Leveret can be, but I can’t think of a safer pair of hands than Clip’s – you know how gentle he is.’
‘Dratted girl! She’s completely ruined Samhain with her antics,’ muttered Maizie. ‘Tis a difficult time anyway, with all the memories …’
‘Just forget it, Mother Maizie,’ said Robin. ‘She doesn’t have to spoil it for you – for all of us – so forget Leveret and drink up.’
‘Aye, come and have a dance, Mother, and cheer up,’ said Rosie, knowing that Robin had just about had enough of Maizie’s fretting. ‘I’ll talk to Leveret in the morning and we’ll get Yul involved too. She’s behaving terribly at the moment but we’ll sort her out.’
Sweyn, Gefrin and Jay stood by the bar where the enormous oak barrels and smaller kegs were lined up, drinking cider by the tankard. They’d already had a great deal but this was Samhain and it was usual for the young men to drink themselves to the floor. They were flushed and over-excited; Sweyn in particular was sweating like a pig. Earlier on he’d told the others about his run-in with Clip and they’d sympathised with him. None of them liked Clip much, for he represented the old and traditional element of Stonewylde, the voice of reason and moderation. News of his intended departure during the coming year had spread like wildfire and the trio were drinking to celebrate this fortunate turn of events.
‘Here’s to the old fart leaving once and for all!’ cried Gefrin, spilling as much cider as he swallowed and not caring one bit.
‘I wish I could bob his head in the apple water right now!’ roared Sweyn. He gulped at his tankard and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Bloody old fool, interfering like that. How dare he? She’s my sister and I’ll do what I like to keep her in line, as Mother asked. Who does he think he is interfering with family business? She was only getting a little wet, after all.’
‘We’ll get her another day,’ said Gefrin, grinning with anticipation. ‘She’ll wish Clip had left well alone