Shaman of Stonewylde by Kit Berry Page B

through because at that point the whole system had succumbed to the attack from Malus. But fortunately all had not been lost with this scheme. Harold was still scared of mentioning the idea to Yul in his present volatile state, but something must be decided soon, as time was of the essence. With a heavy sigh, Harold prepared to shut down his screen for the night and get some sleep. He knew this proposal could be the making of Stonewylde, the one thing that could get it back on its feet, but he was terrified of Yul’s response. He must be brave and broach the subject with Yul; Buzz wouldn’t wait forever for an answer.

5
    S ylvie sat in her little office near the School Wing and gazed out of the window. It was almost Beltane and April had been bright and beautiful; the green haze that clothed many bare branches was already unfurling into leaves. Some of the older folk were shaking their heads and muttering about lack of rainfall and everything being far too early this year, but the younger ones were out and about, enjoying the warmth and that magical feeling of expectation when nature seems poised to explode.
    She’d been sitting still for some time, lost in dreams, listening to the rooks noisily stealing each other’s twigs up in the trees. This stirred a memory from years ago; standing on the terrace beside Magus and laughing together at the messy nests in the rookery. They’d been discussing her and Miranda’s initiation into Stonewylde society and whether they wanted to permanently join the community. Sylvie suddenly had a very bizarre thought – suppose she were to open her eyes now and find herself back in that hospital ward with the pack of white-coated wolves still surrounding her. Suppose all of this had only been a dream?
    A loud knock put paid to that idea and the door crashed open. Sylvie winced and glanced quickly at her list; this would be Jay, the last youngster she must see today. Taking a deep breath and trying to brighten her expression, she looked up to meet his piercing blue gaze. Sylvie felt herself spiralling in a weird vortex of time-slip, like a television programme she’d watched as a child where a figure spun around and around in a whirlwind of strange images. Surely this was Jackdaw?
    The youth stomped across the polished floor, almost tripped over the edge of the Axminster rug, and approached her desk. She’d arranged the furniture so that visitors sat by her side rather than opposite, and she gestured for him to sit down.
    ‘Hello, you must be Jay,’ she began.
    ‘Yeah.’
    He wouldn’t look at her but sat, enormous and awkward, slightly turned away so he didn’t have to meet her eye again.
    ‘I’m sorry, Jay, but I don’t think we’ve ever had much to do with each other, have we? I do know a lot of youngsters here but I don’t really know you at all.’
    He grunted in reply, staring down at his dirty work boots. He wasn’t wearing traditional Stonewylde clothes but had adopted Outside wear – jeans, a checked shirt and steel-toed boots. Only his heavy leather jacket was Stonewylde. Like his father, he had a large, bullet-shaped head with a massive neck, although unlike his father he hadn’t shaved his head but, instead, kept his hair clipped very short. His eyes bulged in just the way Jackdaw’s had, with a look of unhinged menace as if he were on the verge of losing his temper and becoming violent. Sylvie realised she’d tensed up and felt nervous of this youth, which was ridiculous.
    ‘Right, Jay, just a few details first to establish things and then we’ll have a chat about what you’d like to do with your future. Okay?’
    He shrugged noncommittally and, picking up his papers, Sylvie sighed. This wasn’t going to be an easy interview.
    ‘You’re living at the Hall, of course, and you’re currently attending college in the Outside World? It seems . . . you’re doing reasonably well, looking at your last exam results and college report . . .’
    Jay shifted