innocent her mission. Leveret would have to deceive her.
‘I’ve got my own pair of snips at home which are much better than these,’ she said to the people sitting nearest to her in the group. ‘I’m just going to nip back and fetch them.’
‘Aren’t those any good then?’ asked one of them. ‘You can swap with me if you like, Leveret.’
‘No, it’s alright thanks – I like using my own. They’re nice and small. I won’t be long.’
Feeling very guilty and with a final glance at Maizie sitting engrossed amongst her group, Leveret got up. Grabbing her cloak from the pegs by one of the back doors, she slipped out into the night. Her heart pounded at her treachery and she almost turned back to the Barn, prepared to abandon the idea of collecting the things for casting a spell at the Solstice. But she felt compelled to continue with her plan. She’d had the Book for almost two years now and was desperate to cast. She knew Mother Heggy was watching her, waiting for contact and she had to go through with this – she had no choice.
12
Leveret had concealed a draw-string flaxen bag and the special gathering knife in the large inner pocket of her cloak. She’d found the knife in Mother Heggy’s cottage at the same time she discovered the Book of Shadows and it seemed ancient; Leveret suspected it was much older than the crone herself. It was compact, fitting nicely into a small female hand, with a very smoothly-worn white horn handle – probably made from deer antler. The blade was of tempered steel, engraved with strange symbols, slightly curved and very sharp. Leveret had found a worn whetting stone inside the carved box with the knife and she was careful to keep the blade sharp. It was perfectly designed for a herbalist to harvest her ingredients and necessities, and when Leveret had made her find on her thirteenth birthday she’d been happier than at any other moment in her life.
The gathering knife was very different from the third object she’d found on her birthday; a ceremonial athame, wrapped in soft linen with an outer layer of oilskin. Leveret intended to use the gathering knife to collect the materials she’d use for her spell, and to use the athame during the spell-casting ritual. She knew how special tools became linked to those who used them, especially when the purpose was sacred and magical. Using the crone’s tools would create a strong bond between her and Mother Heggy and make contact easier. It also felt right deep inside, as if she were continuing the long tradition of magic passed on from woman to woman.
Leveret took an appreciative breath of the cold night air and looked up at the blazing stars twinkling in thick clusters across the velvet sky. The great Frost Moon, its face daubed with grey shadows, had cleared the Village Green treetops and was radiating magical light, bathing all in moon-dusted quicksilver. Leveret felt a thrill of energy, soaking its radiance and feeling the magic coursing through her veins. She was not especially moongazy but who could be immune to it on such a night as this? She ran lightly over the damp grass which would later be brushed with sparkling frost, towards the orchards.
Leveret knew exactly which tree bore the mistletoe she’d collect, for she’d been carefully planning this for a while. She’d noted the footholds and branches which would help her climb and ran now like a young deer, fleet and delicate of foot, to the gates of the vast orchards. The trees rose in moon-brushed blackness towards the starry heavens and Leveret felt another rush of emotion at such beauty. She loved this – she loved the night, the moon, the magic and the sheer poetry of Stonewylde at the Moon Fullness. Her breath caught in her throat and she thanked the goddess for giving her life and showing her such wonders. She thought of Mother Heggy who’d once walked these lands and had gathered sacred ingredients under the same moon with the same knife.
‘I’ll do everything right,’ she whispered into the silent darkness. ‘I work with love for the goddess in my heart, and honour for you and your wisdom, and I ask you to help me, Mother Heggy. Help me be a Wise Woman such as you were.’
Climbing the gnarled tree wasn’t too difficult for she’d selected a good one, and soon Leveret was up in the branches, as