The Magpie's All-Seeing Eye
by Wendy Freebourne

Lucy Sunshine was fed up living in a caravan. She loved the Nantlle valley and the mountains of North Wales far better than she had ever liked Glastonbury. She bought a share in Plas Melyn, but had never moved into the house with the others. She liked her independence, so she lived in the grounds.
      She had Mike. She loved him dearly, although he didn't live in the community. There was nothing between them, but he had been a good friend to her, got her up here in the first place. Mike had been the pioneer, leaving his safe foreman's job at Rolls Royce, taking early redundancy at forty and opting out of the rat race. A bit of a hermit, he rented a cottage high up, above Bethesda, away from the others; an old mountain goat. But he was devoted to Lucy.
      When he first arrived, Mike met Simon Pritchard in Bangor. Simon and a group of people, mainly idealistic drop-outs from the cities, London, Bristol, Manchester, wanted to buy a house with some land, set up a community. Mike helped them find Plas Melyn, in Talysarn. But he didn't want to live their way, even though he went over to help with the restoration sometimes.
      Then there was Dave. He called himself Dai. Dai was doing a PhD in Welsh history and archaeology at the University in Bangor. He lived on Anglesey. Lucy stayed over with him sometimes. She was in love with the place. It was the day they were walking across the fields, from Dwyran, through Maes y Porth, towards the sea, that they came across Ty Coch, standing at the junction of back lanes, hidden in a stand of trees.
       'Where three roads meet,' Lucy said.
       'Yes, the Druids considered that to be a powerful place. You know Ynys Môn was the spiritual home of the Druids. The Romans slaughtered them en masse on this part of the island. Bloody battles. That's why so many of the houses are called Ty Coch, The Red House,' Dai explained.
      There was a "For Sale" sign fixed to the gatepost and Lucy wanted to have a look. They nosed gingerly down the path. There was no one around and no vehicle in the drive, so they squinted through the windows. The house was empty of furniture. They saw an open plan room with a stone fireplace and wooden floors through a tall, plate glass window.
      Lucy was dancing about. 'I just love this house.'
       'Yes, it's got a good feel to it.'
      It stood on top of the cliff, overlooking the Menai Straits, in its own land.
       'I could run my workshops here.' Lucy hadn't actually run any Women's Mystery workshops since she left Glastonbury.
      Around the back a flagged patio led onto a wild garden, with fruit trees and a vegetable plot. To the side of the house was a paddock. There was a pool of water in the corner, useful for watering a horse. They went over to have a look. Lucy gazed into it.
       'This pond doesn't look like it's man made. It's too deep.'
       'It's a Ballistae Hole. The Ballistae were the huge catapults the Romans used to throw flaming missiles and huge rocks across the straits before they rowed, or even swam, across. Some of the missiles made these deep holes in the ground.'
       'I want this house, Dai,' she told him. 'It's full of history.'
       'Even if you sold your share of Plas Melyn, you wouldn't have enough money.'
       'I could ask Mike to come in with me. I'll bring him to see it.'
      Dai lifted his chin and sniffed, with that way he had of pinching his thin lips. But he had no money.
      Back at his place that night, Dai gave Lucy two small pieces of local slate. He had made marks on them. 'This one with the arrow pointing upwards is the Warrior. It will give you the strength to aim for what you want. The other one, with the two arrow heads inside each other is the Harvest, to help you bring your dreams to fruition.'
      The next day, Lucy rang the estate agent and they let her pick up the key to have a look at the house. It cost more than she could afford. Then she rang Mike.
       'I've found this brilliant house. Will you come and have a look.'
      Mike drove over to Dai's in his old, green Lada, sturdy, like him. The three of them went to see Ty Coch in Dai's Bedford Van. While Mike was examining the boundaries of the property, under Dai's instruction, Lucy hid the Warrior rune underneath a rose bush by the door of the house and the Harvest rune she hid in the unkempt grass by the pond, already marking her territory.
      Mike liked the house. 'You could do all sorts of things here. Maybe other people would rent the space to run workshops too. That's a good room for yoga, and you could do T'ai Chi outside in good weather, even have sweat lodges in that corner. It's quite secluded.' He pointed towards the trees.
       'Would you consider coming in with me?' Lucy enthused. 'There are plenty of bedrooms. I could even bring my caravan over.' She knew Mike had some money.
      His brow furrowed. 'I'll think about it.'
      They went to The Four Crosses in Menai Bridge.
       'I'd like to have another look, I think.' Mike was a cautious kind of guy. Lucy was more of a dreamer, so he was her anchor. Anyway, Lucy wanted to see the house without Dai around.
       'OK. Shall we meet there tomorrow? Then you can take me back to Plas Melyn because Dai wants to study. Say ten o'clock?'
      A group of bikers came in to the pub. The guy who seemed to be the leader looked over at them. Dai stared at him. The biker stared back. Dai had a habit of staring people out. Lucy wished he wouldn't. Then the biker started to look at Mike, who was bigger and beefier than Dai, even though Dai was wiry – and younger. When they left, the biker guy followed them outside, apelike, arms hung away from his body, menacing. Lucy saw him looking at the van. When she looked back, he had turned around. There was a roaring tiger's head on the back of his black leather jacket and the words, "Ynys Môn".
      It was late when they got back to Dai's and Mike's Lada wouldn't start.
       'You can borrow the van, if you like. Bring it back tomorrow and we can sort out your car then.' Dai did not invite Mike to stay over.
      Lucy woke late the next day. Dai was not in the house. He came back just before she was ready to leave. He had mud on his boots.
       'Where've you been?'
       'I couldn't sleep. I went for a long walk.'
      Lucy walked over to Ty Coch. Dai's van was there, but no Mike. The rune had gone from under the rose bush. She wandered into the paddock and fancied she saw naked Druid women with torches, heard them yelling at the tops of their voices. She had read in one of Dai's books that the women ran up and down the beach screaming and at least managed to unnerve the Romans while they were crossing over from Caernarvon. She stared into the pool. What a perfect place for women's work, Lucy thought. She saw blood in the water. She visualised menstrual rituals, performed naked, at night. She was surprised at the power of her imagination, so she looked away – and back again. The water was deep red. She felt the first stirrings of panic.
      Then she saw the Harvest rune, laid on a flat stone. She turned it over in her hand, mystery creeping up her spine. On the back, scrawled in chalk, was the outline drawing of a tiger roaring.
      Lucy looked around. A magpie was perched on the chimneystack, something dark and flat in its beak caught her eye. Slowly, warily, she walked back towards the house.
       'Hello! Did you know this road leads to the beach?'
      Lucy jumped.
      When she saw Mike standing beside her she heaved a sigh of relief. 'I was worried about you.'
       'I'm OK now, but would you believe those bikers! They were hanging round Menai Bridge when I came through this morning? Must have recognised the van. They followed me like the clappers, racing past, up the road and then turning round and charging back again, buzzing me like flies. Silly beggars.' Mike did not seem at all ruffled, but then he had not seen the pool.
       'I managed to give them the slip; turned off at Brynsiencyn and then doubled back again. Lucky I was early. I hung round by those houses, down by the beach for a bit, just in case I needed any help.' Practical as usual.
      Mike paused for breath. 'They couldn't have known I was coming here. No sign of them. Dai might have a problem if they catch up with him, though.'
       'Mike, the pool is full of blood,' Lucy blurted out. She had not checked that it was blood. 'And there's a drawing of a tiger's head. I thought something had happened to you.'
       'I left you a message on a piece of slate I found by the front door. Put it on the step. Didn't you find it?'
      Lucy looked up. From its high vantage point, the magpie looked at them with its all-seeing eye and dropped the small, flat object into the chimney pot.

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