The Magical Realm of Shadows Part 1 Chapter 3

The Sibyl

The journey ended in a scenic valley surrounded by green rolling hills and open woodlands. A few small farms stood dotted around the hillsides, where sheep, cattle and horses grazed amidst the boundaries created by dry stone walls and clear-running streams.

It had been a while since Father had visited Aunt Sibyl’s, so he pulled into a small village to ask directions.

He parked in front of a pub called The Dunwicca Arms, the sign above its door showing the face of a woman formed out of a tree trunk, with branches for hair.

“Two ticks,” said Father. “I’ll just pop in the shop.”

The sign above the shop boasted that it served as grocer, newsagent, post office and herbalist. All the buildings had thatched roofs and white-washed or bare Yorkshire stone walls.

Billy tried to look in all directions at once. “How come they’ve got grass for roofs, are they poor or summat?”

Diana just tutted, while Lily and Brigit ignored him, looking bored.

The cottages opposite the shop all had small bridges leading to their front gates, because a shallow stream separated them from the road.

Candy barked through the window at two shaggy collie dogs but got no reaction. Chickens wandered around pecking at the ground and half a dozen ducks rested by the edge of the stream. The few people walking about seemed very ancient.

“There can’t be much to do round here, Lily,” said Brigit.

Lily let out a groan and inspected her fingernails. “It’ll be well boring.”

Father returned, winking at them. “Soon be there, kids.”

He out of the village and crossed a narrow stone bridge leading to a road only wide enough for one vehicle at a time.

“Let’s hope we don’t meet a tractor coming the other way.” Father worried too much.

They were soon climbing the opposite slope of the valley, crossing numerous small bridges and entering a heavily wooded area. Crows and rooks lined the stone walls, eyeing them suspiciously. Just before they would have reached the hills summit, Father turned the Jaguar right onto a narrow lane surfaced with rubble. The makeshift road soon became just a dirt track. Startled rabbits bolted for cover in the fern borders and the cawing of rooks became almost deafening.

“Here we are!” said Father, as they came upon a narrow drive cut into the hillside to their left. There was hardly enough width for the car to pass and it strained in low gear during the effort to reach the top some twenty metres above. The car eased over the crest and came to a halt in front of an old Morris Minor Traveller in British Racing Green. Before them stood a large, thatched and whitewashed cottage, hemmed in by woods behind and on either side.

“Now the problem is getting turned round to go back down again,” he informed them, as if it was their problem.

They tumbled out and Father handed round backpacks from the boot. He led them to the front door and knocked. A name plaque next to the door read ‘Cul na Sithe’. The door swung slowly open.

“Hello, Aunty,” said Father. “Long time no see, old girl.”

“Less of the old girl if you don’t mind, young man,” came the good-humoured reply.

She had a soothing voice and a kind wrinkly face that looked ancient, except for the familiar pale-grey eyes which sparkled with vitality. Her silver-grey hair was mostly covered by a black silk scarf that would have made her look like a nun if she hadn’t had silver hoop earrings dangling from her ears. Who would have thought she’d be wearing a green workman’s boiler suit and a pair of Doctor Marten boots?

“Don’t stand on ceremony. Come in, darlings.” She stepped back to wave them in. “Straight through the hallway to the kitchen, children.”

The large, homely kitchen was farmhouse style with a low oak-beamed ceiling. They could smell bread baking in one of those old black ovens. Aunty ushered them to the table and prepared some tea. After serving Father, she asked them if they fancied some elderflower champagne and was answered by a chorus of approval.

“Are you staying for lunch, Meredith?”

“Um… no thanks, Sibyl, got to get back to Tanith.” Bless him.

The children were unusually quiet and took in their surroundings while Father told Aunty all the family gossip. After a couple of cups of tea, Father said he needed the toilet and went outside, leaving the girls looking shocked.

Aunty was keen to put their minds at rest, saying, “Now children, I know it’s all a bit strange for you at the moment but don’t worry, were going to get on like a house-on-fire. Just mark my words. Anyone for more champagne?”

“Won’t we get drunk?” asked Lily.

Aunty chuckled. “Deary me, no! This one isn’t alcoholic, but when you’re older, you’ll have to try my elderberry wine, it’s the best in Yorkshire.”

Father came back and washed his hands at the huge kitchen sink. Aunty never even batted an eyelid.

“Right then, kids, do I get a hug before I go?”

Billy was the last to kiss Father goodbye. He fidgeted nervously, stealing glances at Aunty.

The door closed and they were abandoned. Candy had followed father to the door and stood barking at it. Her bark was answered from somewhere outside by a deafening din like nothing they had heard before.

“I’d better introduce you to my children,” said Aunty. “I just locked them out while you got settled in.”

She went through the back door and returned a few seconds later, followed by two great, shaggy grey beasts.

“What are those, Aunty?” asked Billy. “Are they donkeys?”

“Good heavens dear, of course not, these are Irish wolfhounds, although they are unusually large – even for wolfhounds. This one is Gel,” nodding at the slightly larger, darker dog, “and this one is Gerri. Now, don’t worry, they’re big softies really, but just be careful they don’t knock you over by accident. And don’t leave your food unattended when Gel’s around, he could eat a horse – literally.”

Gerri walked up to Candy, who immediately rolled onto her back and released a few squirts of piddle. The hound gave her a few licks, then came over to sniff them. Gel remained aloof and went to lay by the fire. They gingerly patted Gerri’s head in turn.

“I’ve a couple more friends for you to meet, children. Jack will be along soon and Hecate is in the living room, but she’s wild and bad-tempered, so don’t try to touch her, at least not till she gets to know you. She’ll come to you when she’s ready.”

Billy had been crossing his legs and he finally plucked up the courage to ask if he could go to the toilet. The girls were all busting too, so Aunty led them into the garden.

“Youngest first, I think,” she ushered Billy into what looked like a small shed made of stone, with a slate roof. It had two toilet seats, side by side, set in a stone shelf.

When everyone had been, it was time for dinner.

The starter consisted of small Yorkshire puddings stuffed with roasted chestnuts, with a shallot and red wine sauce. The vegetable and mushroom stew was served with roast parsnips on simple tin plates, accompanied by the best tasting bread they had ever had. Everyone thought it was delicious. For dessert they got a forest fruit cocktail in champagne.

“Don’t you eat meat, Aunty?” Brigit asked.

“No, dear, I’d lose my neutrality with the wild creatures if I did. Of course, the dogs have to eat meat, but they can’t help that, it’s their nature. I do eat fish now and again; have to get the omega oils at my age. Come on then, I’ll show you to your rooms so you can unpack and make yourselves at home.”

Aunty led them through the living room, which wasn’t that much different from the kitchen. A long-haired tabby that looked twice the size of any normal cat, was curled in an armchair. When Hecate saw Candy, she stood, up arching her back and hissing. Hecate jumped from the chair and went after her. Candy ran for her life doing a circuit of the room and scrambling on the floorboards wherever there was a gap between rugs. Aunty shouted Hecate’s name, then said something in a strange language.

The cat froze, looking chastised, and then she returned to the armchair. A trembling Candy begged to be picked up by Brigit, who obliged.

Aunty led them up the steep staircase. One spacious room had been prepared for the girls and a small room for Billy. Diana was surprised when Billy asked her to share with him. There was a small washroom upstairs, but no bath, shower or toilet. Aunty said her bedroom was downstairs and showed them the pans under the beds, in case they were caught short in the middle of the night. They were left to unpack their bags.

The views from the dormer windows in the bedroom were stunning, looking out over the valley and distant village.

“Wow, this must be the most beautiful place in the world,” said Brigit.

Diana carefully unpacked her clothes and placed them in a neat pile ready to carry to Billy’s room. “Don’t you think Aunty looks like Jessica Fletcher off the TV?”

“Yeah,” Brigit agreed, “but dressed like a gypsy.”

Lily emptied her bag and stuffed everything in a drawer. “She must have been a bit of a beauty when she were younger.”

“I think she looks a bit scary,” Billy said, making them all laugh.

“Fancy not having a toilet in the house, though,” said Brigit. “It’s like living in the Middle Ages”

Lily flopped onto a bed. “I couldn’t believe it when the Old Man went outside to pee, like he does sometimes when he’s drunk.” When everyone had stopped chuckling, Lily turned serious. “I hope Aunty doesn’t think she can boss me about.”

“Don’t start causing trouble, Lily,” said Diana. “She seems really nice.”

“I wanna go home," Billy moaned.

When everyone had unpacked and returned to the kitchen, they found a jackdaw perched on the back of a chair.

“Children, I’d like you to meet Jack, my own little vagabond," said Aunty, proudly.

“Howdy do,” said Jack, in a squawky voice. “Jack’s a clever boy.”

“Have you ever kept an owl, Aunty?” Brigit asked.

“Good heavens, no! stupid, useless birds. It’s either daws or magpies for me, dear.”

Out in the beech woods, Candy was happy to be stretching her little legs, not to mention get away from Hecate. She followed Gerri around and the hound seemed glad of the attention. Gel had gone off after a rabbit. Jack followed them, occasionally landing on someone’s shoulder before taking off again. Billy thought it was great fun – till Jack pooped on his shoulder. But at least the jackdaw said, “Oops, sorry.”

Aunty was teaching them how to identify trees and shrubs, but said they should come back one summer when Sirona had made the land fruitful, whatever that meant. Then she could teach them about mushroom-picking and beekeeping. Although they didn’t have a clue what she was talking about half the time, they were starting to relax in her company. Even Billy had stopped moaning about going home.

They climbed out of the wood and came to a cave set in the side of the hill, its entrance narrow but high enough for an adult to pass through without stooping.

“Can we have a look in that cave, Aunty?” Lily asked.

“No, my dear, it could be dangerous for children.” Then in a dramatic tone of voice she added, “This cave is a gateway to Astyxia, The Realm of Shadows. You must all promise not to enter it.”

They all made the promise, except Lily, who simply mumbled.

“Let’s head back before it gets dark, children,” said Aunty.

As they walked back through the woods, Lilly’s asked, “Who lives in The Realm of Shadows, Aunty?”

“Why, witches of course, also warlocks, elves, goblins and all kinds of strange creatures.”

“They think they’re witches,” said Billy. “They stick pins in dolls of Abby Truman to make her ugly, cos she’s better looking than them.”

“Get lost, Billy!” Lily protested. “It’s not because of that at all. It’s because she’s a nasty bully. She says we’re mongrels, cos we couldn’t have all come from the same two parents.”

“Tut, tut, Lilith!” Aunty disapproved. “That’s not the way to go about using magic, my dear. Spells must only be used for positive means. What you should have done was cast a spell to make Abby a better person. Negative magic is black magic and that can only corrupt the soul of the person using it.”

“But, Aunty,” said Billy, “there’s no such thing as bad magic, is there?”

“Oh, I can assure you there is my boy; the forces of good are always opposed by the forces of evil, although, it’s mostly a question of shades of grey rather than simple black and white.”

“You big fat liars,” Billy yelled at the girls, who all groaned. “Aunty, do you know a ghost called Billy bags?”

“Billy!” Lily shouted, “I’ve told you I made it up. Stop haunting me with it.”

“Obviously, I don’t know every ghost by name, my dear,” Aunty replied, “that would be impossible.”

“What kind of place is The Realm of Shadows?” Lily asked.

“The kind of place where anything is possible, children.”

Back at the cottage, they settled into the kitchen, Aunty and Lily in the rocking chairs, the others on the sofa with Billy in the middle and Candy on his lap. The hounds lay down in front of the fire and Jack perched on the back of Aunty’s chair. They enjoyed cocoa made with milk, in tin mugs. Aunty sipped black tea laced with Scotch, for medicinal purposes – so she said. A plateful of homemade digestive biscuits was passed around: they were still warm, smeared with butter and runny honey.

The rest of the evening was spent in front of the fire with Aunty teaching them about the Tarot cards or reading from old volumes like ‘The Mabinogion’ and ‘The Book of Shadows.’ They were encouraged to memorise poems Aunty thought would be useful. She seemed to be preparing them for something.

“One more story, then off to bed,” Aunty insisted. “This is the story of Ailinn and Baile:

“The young lovers had arranged to meet each other, and it was Baile who arrived first only to have a jealous stranger tell him that Ailinn had died. The news broke Baile’s heart and he dropped dead from grief. Then the wicked stranger went to see Ailinn to tell her Baile had died and she also passed away with a broken heart.

“When they were buried a tree grew on each of their graves, a yew tree on Ailinn’s grew to look like Baile, and an apple tree on Baile’s grave grew fruit that looked like Ailinn’s face.”

Even Billy enjoyed the story, though he didn’t understand love in the same way as his sisters.

“Wow, just think, toffee apples with Mam’s face.”