not with hunger. This pain had begun to gnaw at him regularly and he thought of it as the serpent within his belly. He was learning to live with it and even spoke to it sometimes, but tonight it would be easy to ignore. Once he’d left this realm, he’d feel nothing anyway.
Clip knew this would be his last Winter Solstice at Stonewylde. By this time next year he could be anywhere in the world – maybe in the Australian Outback or with a tribe in North America. He wanted to visit Peru and the Steppes, Tibet and the Amazon; Clip had been captive here for thirteen long years and longed to be free to roam. He’d only ever been the custodian – never the guardian – of Stonewylde, always haunted by the bad things that nobody else seemed to notice. He knew of the evil up at Quarrycleave that lay waiting for new victims. He knew too of the corrupting influence of power and he wanted nothing of it.
Clip didn’t remember his own father, but he recalled the terrible way his Uncle Elm had lived, debauched and utterly selfish, spoiling everything around him. He’d heard of the rape that had resulted in his own conception up at Mooncliffe and the torment his mother had suffered every single month, with his brother also born out of such brutality. The taint of power had all passed on to his brother and Clip knew only too well just what an evil man Sol had been. The sophisticated, charismatic persona had been a mere mask which had slipped alarmingly by the end of his life.
Clip acknowledged that he too had behaved very badly, although Miranda had told him kindly it was just as well or she’d never have had Sylvie nor her wonderful life at Stonewylde. But that didn’t detract from his own wicked act. And now Yul seemed destined for the same fate. Today he was a far cry from the passionate, idealistic boy who’d fought his father thirteen years ago. Clip sighed – he’d done his best and stayed here all these years from a sense of duty and guilt. It had to be enough. Stonewylde and her demands had bled him dry and now he wanted to wander the world and honour the Goddess in all her guises, not just her Stonewylde robes. That’s all he’d ever wanted to do – to be free of this place.
He settled into his customary position and began to clear his mind; usually the process was quick. An empty, clear mind, a bright shining radiance filling his head … his totem, the silver wolf, would appear and lead him through a strange, symbolic landscape, feeling a sense of heightened perception. There’d be some sort of entrance – maybe a cave, or passing beneath a waterfall, or even through a foxhole – and then they’d be in and the journey could begin. Clip fidgeted, his bony bottom uncomfortable.
He glanced into the shadows at the back of the cave again, seeing only the bracken and blanket where Leveret had slept. Should he be acknowledging another presence tonight? Had a spirit joined him? No, it wasn’t that. He stared deep into the heart of the fire, trying again to clear his mind. Empty, just a bright, shining radiance … he glanced again into the cave’s shadowy depths. Something was pulling at him, nagging at his subconscious – something he should understand. He sighed again and stared into the dark shadows, letting his mind wander freely.
All was bright and here was his silver wolf at last, slinking through the trees, his eyes so wise as he led Clip towards a great cave-mouth. Clip walked, one hand on the wolf’s head and the other holding his ash staff. As they approached the mouth, Clip felt a tingle of fear and looked around. The landscape was bizarre, huge, pale boulders and outcrops of Fly Agaric, the brilliant red startling against the white rock.
Clip hesitated at the entrance, frightened to go inside. He looked up and saw two huge pointed stalactites of stone curving down from the roof. Passing between them he shivered, thinking they looked like fangs, but the wolf urged him onwards and Clip followed … into the darkness of the cave and then, too late, he understood. He was inside a serpent, and travelling deeper, down into the long tunnel of its body. This wasn’t a journey he wanted to make and he halted, reluctant to continue deeper