Free Solstice at Stonewylde by Kit Berry Page A

he signalled to begin the ritual as if the size of the great crowd were entirely normal. The crone invited the Death Dancers to choose between life and death. They were commanded to show some sign if they wanted to stay in this world, or remain still and silent if they wished to be sped to the Otherworld and have their mortal remains burnt. The four corpses remained still and silent. Yul tried to move, tried to call out or move his hand. He struggled with every fibre of his being. But his numb, drugged body wouldn’t respond.
    He could hear his mother’s voice calling to him from the entrance, begging him to make a sign. He could hear her choking on her sobs, pleading with him to choose life. She’d been convinced he’d be dead already. But now, although she couldn’t see him clearly at all, somehow she felt he still held on to a thread of life. She kept on and on calling to him, but try as he might,he could make no movement at all. Then he heard another voice, the voice of his tiny, silvery grandmother.
    ‘Come, Yul! ‘Tis time and you
have
to move. If you don’t show a sign now Magus will win and you’ll be burned alive!’
    He pushed and pushed, trying with every atom to move. How could his body fail him like this? Unless he made a sign right now, he’d die in the flames, burnt alive.
    ‘Call on the Earth Magic, Yul! ‘Tis your special place here and you’re the chosen one of Stonewylde, so summon the power to you, Yul! Call the green magic now to give you strength!’ she cried in desperation.
    Yul was some way from the Altar Stone where the force was most powerful, but he knew she was right. The energy was here in the Circle, if only it would seek him out. His body was so weak, so cold, but he remembered that August night at the Corn Moon when he’d run round and round, calling up the storm. So in his mind he started to run now, his limbs free and strong. Round the Circle, round the stones, calling on the power of the Earth Magic, summoning the Goddess who lived below and beyond, raising the energy up, up into his soul …
    Raven rubbed hard on his frozen hands crossed on his chest. She chafed them with her small, rough hands, exhorting him to move. He could feel her and yet he couldn’t – she was only a wraith and yet she had some substance. Her mass of tangled silver hair fell across his face and tickled him. He called and called, summoning the hidden power of the ancient Stone Circle, the power tapped by his ancestors, the green magic of old … He called on the Earth Goddess who’d chosen him to lead Stonewylde.
    ‘Sir!’ whispered Martin urgently. ‘I saw him move! He twitched.’
    ‘What?’ hissed Magus. ‘Don’t talk rubbish! He’s paralysed – he can’t move a muscle.’
    ‘No, look! His fingers just moved. Look, sir!’
    Magus saw it too.
    ‘Give him some more of the potion quickly! Where is it? Quick!’
    ‘’Tis over yonder in the chest by the Altar Stone,’ said Violet. ‘But something’s amiss. I feel another close by. A shade … something, someone from the Otherworld who has no place here. She—’
    ‘Never mind that! Go, Jackdaw! Get the bottle quickly!’
    But as Jackdaw tried to cross the circle to fetch the paralysing draught, a great crow launched itself from a standing stone and flew straight into Jackdaw’s face. It flapped and pecked in a wild flurry of black feathers, beak and claws. Jackdaw swore violently and tried to swipe it away. But the more his arms thrashed, the harder it attacked, coming from all angles, pecking and beating its wings, cawing crazily. He couldn’t get out of the centre; couldn’t move from the spot.
    ‘What the hell is going on? Violet, say the last words! You two – get the bodies up onto the pyre! Quick!’
    ‘I ask for the final time! If you choose to live, give us a sign. For now ‘tis the hour of the burning. Do none o’ you choose life?’
    ‘Move, Yul, move! I feel the life force rising in you. ‘Tis starting to work!