by Vance Huxley
The sight of gargoyles in the overgrown churchyard reminded Abel he wanted to see the Goblins. He turned in through the lychgate, looking around for one but none greeted him. Abel frowned, created a very small but hot fire glyph, and tossed it at the stone wall near a gargoyle. “Why did you do that!” The gargoyle became a potbellied green Goblin, the only magical creature legend correctly described, and hopped down off the wall. “You know we catch fire easily.” The nearest dozen gargoyles suddenly had Goblin faces, while others only had green eyes. Either way, they all watched him cautiously.
“You were all pretending to be stone so I couldn’t talk to you. The glyph was to remind you we have a deal. There’s litter around the bins and I just caught a Thornie scavenging.” The Goblin looked shifty, definitely hiding something while some of the others reverted to their disguises, grotesque stone gargoyles. “You lot are useless at lying so confess, are the Ratlins back?”
“No, and if they were we’d hunt them and any other small creatures not allowed in the village. We’re having trouble with that because there’s a gap in your barrier. Someone took up two of the posts, the ones you put hexes on to stop the fae and little creatures.” The Goblin glanced at the others. “We couldn’t find you to tell you.”
“Fair enough, but you could have dealt with the likes of Thornies. Unless you can’t be bothered with them now you’ve got the bins to yourselves?” Abel narrowed his eyes. “That can alter.”
“No, don’t.” A long, thin long tongue came out to lick the Goblin’s lips. “The food in there is delicious, but we still eat the creatures you told us we should. Though no pretty birdies or butterflies.” Kelis had insisted on that. “It’s just that there’s bigger ones now, bigger than Thornies so we have to go out in packs. We aren’t very tough.”
Since a cat could usually keep a pair of goblins off their food, Abel believed that. “What sort of bigger?”
“Skurrits, four of them. They ran away after a dryad strangled one with tree roots but more could come at any time. None of us recognised the other one, the slithery thing. goblins don’t live very long you know, and it isn’t in our stories.” The Goblin looked at Abel’s arm. “The sorceress might know?” It sounded cautious. Ferryl frightened all the magical creatures.
“She is busy but I’ll let her know and she’ll sort it out. Let me or Rob know if anything else turns up that you can’t manage.” After following directions to the gap, Abel found the hex-inscribed posts thrown aside. He assumed Tyson, Henry’s older brother, had done it as payback for Henry’s broken arm.
Abel set the posts back in their holes, tapped the tops with a concentrated wind glyph to set them, then drained some magic into the wood to renew the protection. He debated going to Castle House garden to top himself up but like all living things, Abel continuously absorbed a small amount of magic from the air. He’d soon fill up again.
Once he arrived home, Abel’s mum wanted to know if he’d apologised. She seemed relieved they were all still friends then wanted more details on the fight with Henry because Abel had gone to bed without explaining much. That explanation took a lot of editing because he couldn’t mention magic. After inspecting the worst bruises mum told him to rest, so Abel gratefully headed for his bedroom.
Abel spent most of the day working through his texts and emails, junking the ones accusing him of attempted murder, rape or abduction. Those were a product of Seraph’s campaign, based on Abel being covered in Jenny’s blood, and would die out with Ferryl/Jenny fit enough to answer them. Seraph, as the self-proclaimed leader of the rich and influential, treated anyone like Abel as a target for harassment. Finding him covered in Jenny’s blood had been a perfect opportunity to cause as much trouble as possible. Abel would find out the official version tomorrow, when everyone went back to school after the break.
Most of the rest of the messages were from the betas, local teenagers testing the Bonny’s Tavern board game for Kelis, Rob and Abel. Now it was a bit more than a game. After discovering magic, the trio thought it was funny to add a few real magical creatures, and a meditation exercise to levitate a leaf using a glyph. Kelis had also created a sign to hang outside the Tavern as magical protection, using Abel’s flower ward in a shield. Because Kelis was magically linked to Abel’s mark, she’d accidentally created a true protection hex.
Even so, floating the leaf using pure imagination, without any knowledge of magic, should have been virtually impossible. Unfortunately a few betas drew the Tavern sign, a true magical symbol, on their arms, then found that stroking it while meditating felt really restful. Worse, a few drew the wind glyph on their palms instead of imagining it.
Rob, Kelis and Abel had no idea what the betas were doing, until Petra activated her control of magic and made her leaf flutter. Luckily Abel had added his tattoo as a game character, a cat-sorceress, so Rob put Ferryl Shayde’s email address in the game as a way for players to get magical advice. A joke, but the whole thing suddenly seemed a lot less funny after Petra’s frantic text to the allegedly fictional cat-sorceress, “One leaf floating. Help.”
A short, frantic induction left Petra exhausted but relieved. She immediately insisted that anyone with a funny feeling in their arm while meditating had to be warned, so they didn’t panic when the leaf moved. After a short, frantic period those betas activated their magic and became apprentices to Ferryl Shayde’s trainees. Unfortunately, the betas were volunteers and not exactly organised, with many still unaware that magic existed. Some had already invited friends and relatives to try the Tavern game, so it had spread to other parts of England and the idea of meditating had spread with them. Now, if it was removed, a lot of non-magical people would ask why.
Abel daren’t tell any of them, even those aware of magic and that Ferryl Shayde really lived in his tattoo, about Ferryl possessing Jenny. He wasn’t happy about it himself even if Ferryl had told him she usually did this, swapped twenty years of possession for saving a life. Possession sounded awful but Jenny had agreed as an alternative to dying. Now Abel wished he’d asked for more details about how that worked, but at the time he expected Ferryl to ride in his tattoo for ninety years. Abel answered the magic-aware texts and emails, explaining he’d got bloody holding Jenny while Ferryl healed her. A bland reply to any non-magicals he knew just said he’d tried to help Jenny when he found her.
Unfortunately, none of Abel’s social circle knew Jenny personally, or any of her friends. Abel wouldn’t find out what Ferryl/Jenny had told either them or her family until the end of the holidays.
∼∼
Mid-afternoon, despite it being chilly, Abel limped to Castle House on the outskirts of the village. He could use magical heat to keep warm, privately because a powerful repulsion spell kept everyone else except Kelis and Rob out of the gardens. “Blimey, did you have another go at those Copples?” Abel stopped and turned, smiling because Stan would be pleased with the result.
“Only Henry this time.” He held out his hands, displaying the skinned knuckles. “No broken fingers this time.”
“I told you to come and borrow my shotgun if they gave you more trouble.” They both laughed because Stan, allegedly a retired poacher, would never let anyone near his gun. “Did you black his eye again?”
“Yup, and this time he’s got the broken fingers.”
“Bloody hell. Wish I’d seen that, it’s about time. Watch out for Tyson, he’ll be annoyed you hurt his little brother.” Stan smirked and reached down to stroke Bugsy, his feisty old Jack Russell. “Though that bloody dog of theirs, Cooch, doesn’t bother Bugsy since that last run-in with you.”
“Mr. Copples promised to tell Tyson to leave me alone, in case I bust his fingers as well.” Abel smiled happily. “He told Henry to lay off me in future.”
“Blimey, wonders never cease.” Stan looked Abel over. “You’ve filled out a bit lately, put a bit of weight on, but even so I’m definitely impressed. I suppose you’ll be going into those gardens again. Have you been in the house?”<
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“It’s all boarded up, and anyway there’s some strange stories about that place.” There were also some very nasty glyphs protecting the house, but Abel wasn’t going to mention them.
“I thought of having a mooch about in the gardens for any stray rabbits, but Bugsy won’t go in there. Now you three are tramping all over the gardens scaring everything so there’s no point.”
Abel knew the real reason was the barrier spell that persuaded Stan to keep out. “Sorry. If I see a rabbit I’ll send it your way.” Stan laughed and Abel carried on, then paused. Maybe he was just in a good mood, but he decided to give Stan a present. Abel tapped the Land Rover logo on the front of Stan’s old vehicle, releasing magic to power it up. “Good motors these.” Logos on expensive brands were actually magical protection against Gremlins and other creatures, but the one on Stan’s had worn out. Now it would be fully charged and stop a lot of niggling little faults.
Stan frowned, squinting a little, then shook his head as if clearing it. “Was a good motor, and still good enough for me even if it acts up now and then.” Abel raised a hand in farewell and left, ignoring the annoyed Gremlin scampering out from under the bonnet. He’d better warn Kelis and Rob that Stan might be one of those rare people who saw hints of magic. Abel’s mum saw creatures properly, and had treatment while still a child to stop her hallucinations. Now she knew Abel saw them, and that the wooden plaques with Tavern signs on kept the bad ones away, but didn’t know about magic. Abel wasn’t going to tell her. According to Ferryl, if someone over twenty-five activated their magic it sent them crazy.
Abel carried on through the gardens to the little cave near the stone slab that had once imprisoned Ferryl, where he finished dealing with the texts. Eventually he just sat there for a while, relaxing and enjoying the peace and the birdsong. Only birds, insects and small animals came in here, because the garden’s defences stopped all magical creatures or thinking animals. A few texts came from Kelis and Rob, asking about this and that so they were still chewing over what he’d told them.
The last message brought a big smile. “Tavern meeting at seven. Bring cake.” The cake must be his penance, and because his mum baked a really mean fruit cake.
Abel replied, “No marzipan, mum ate it,” which was true because it was the last of the Christmas cake. He spent some time catching up on his practice, casting wind, fire, colour-changing and plant growth glyphs. He didn’t know many more but hopefully Ferryl would still teach him. Abel daren’t experiment, because uncontrolled magic could kill the caster or someone nearby.
∼∼
When Abel called round for the meeting, Mrs. Ventner wanted to see how badly he had been hurt. “At least those bruises won’t hurt you too much.” She smiled happily and touched her upper arm. Kelis had drawn a Tavern mark there to stop creatures crawling over her mum in hospital, swearing it was good luck and a meditation symbol to reduce pain. Now Mrs. Ventner thought they all wore them for meditation, especially since it really did make her feel better.
Abel agreed, heading for Bonny’s Tavern where two serious faces were waiting. “You’ve got some explaining to do.” Kelis pointed to a chair. “Sit.”
“Cake?” Abel put it on the table, hoping it would help as he tried to think what else he’d done wrong.
“That’s a start.” Kelis kept her face straight but Rob couldn’t keep it up, he smirked just a little.
Abel didn’t relax because Kelis still seemed serious. “What did I do? Well, what more did I do?”
“Glyphs. You have been learning new ones and never told me.” Kelis seemed genuinely annoyed. “How can I be a Glyphmistress if you don’t tell me when you learn a new one? My control is as good as yours.”
“Better,” Rob chipped in, possibly truthfully.
“I’ve told you them all, everything I know.” Puzzled, Abel looked from one to the other. Rob had a little smile and reached for cake.
“So what about the bit where you tangled Henry’s feet with brambles? How did you do that?” Kelis pointed at him then wiggled her fingers. “Nothing we’ve learned up to now would do that, so give.”
“It was just the growth one for making the grass and bushes grow. The one I used after the dead tree, the Bound Shade, ripped the gardens up. Just glyphs drawn in the earth. I told you about trying to learn how to burn a glyph to pull magic from a tree root, to activate the growing glyph. I couldn’t do it right, burn it under the bark where it wouldn’t show.” Though now he thought about it, Abel wasn’t so sure he’d told them.
“Which is all news to us. You weren’t exactly being truthful just then, remember? Hiding your little friend and her special talents?” Kelis glanced at Abel’s shoulder. “How does the tattoo feel?”
“Flat and empty. It looks it as well, to me.” He showed his cat-woman tattoo and they agreed.
“Right, back to magic brambles. How difficult is the glyph? Does it work on anything? Was the draining one different to the one we use to get magic from a tree?” Kelis really did deserve the Glyphmistress title because she loved them.
“The glyph for drawing magic from a tree is the same for a drawn glyph or a person, though the one to power a glyph doesn’t need cutting through the bark. Ferryl puts them under the bark where they can’t be seen. The growth glyph is more complicated than the Tavern warding hex, about the same as the colour changing one.” Abel shook his head. “I was desperate. If Ferryl hadn’t had me crawling around the lawns and through the bushes to fix the greenery I wouldn’t have remembered. That took whole afternoons drawing it in lots of different sizes, and must have burned it into my brain.”
“Good.” Kelis pushed a pen and paper across the table and a smile broke out. “Then you can draw it. Though with a small gap,” she paused and they all chorused, “so you don’t activate it by mistake.” Her eyes narrowed. “Exactly what does it do?”
“Makes things grow? It’s the one on the fencepost to help mum’s little tree recover. Ah, Ferryl hid that one underground. Crikey, for all I know it will make the carpet grow. Ferryl didn’t say.” That thought stopped Abel. He’d better test it somehow. “Have you got a plant and pot I could try it on? If the plant grows without the pot getting bigger, we’ll know.”
“I’ll go and find one. Draw the glyph, but don’t you dare try it on anything until I get back.” Kelis flew out of the room.
Rob swallowed his cake and jabbed Abel in the arm. “I was going to beat on you, verbally at least, but I can’t. Kelis is too pleased you pair are talking again and that you survived Henry. I really, really hope it isn’t that magic connection, or I might go all barbarian and cut your arm off to break it.”
“I’ll volunteer if that’s the only way. Don’t worry, she tore a proper strip off me first.” Abel took the paper and pen. “I suppose I’d better practice with my right hand.” At least that got Rob smiling again. Ferryl had used Abel’s right hand to draw for homework despite him being a leftie, so now he had to keep it up. By the time Kelis came back with a straggly plant in a medium sized pot, Abel thought he’d got it. “Here. I think it’s right.”
“I’ll try it.” Kelis hesitated. “No I won’t, or not until I’ve experimented on some innocent grass in a field. We don’t want Jack’s beanstalk in here.”
Both Rob and Abel inspected the sacrificial plant. “What is that? It shouldn’t matter but what should it look like?” The plant had four long twisted stems over a metre long, each having a small bunch of white-veined lopsided half-heart-shaped leaves at the end. Abel poked a couple of leaves. “I don’t think it matters, but will the shoots grow up or outwards? I’d better put that in the intent part.”
“That is an Angel Wing Begonia, because the leaves look like a wing. It should have been pruned, or re-potted, or maybe fed and watered more. Those leaves should be a lot bigger, all over it, and it has clumps of pink flowers.” Her hands gestured, indicating sort of where those should be. Kelis didn’t sound happy about the next bit. “Mum loves it but she’s bee
n preoccupied just lately since, you know, him.”
Kelis meant her dad kicking her mum unconscious and breaking her arm, so Abel moved on. “So we fix it for her.” He stood up and concentrated, keeping the glyph really small, imagining it on his palm while pushing magic down his arm and out. The smoky shape hit the stems at the base but nothing happened to start with. “Maybe it should...” Abel stopped as buds pushed out from the first four joints in each stem, the bottom ones opening into small, brand new leaves.
“More.” Kelis hovered over the plant, barely touching one of the new leaves. A gleeful smile lit her face. “Do it again.”
“Maybe not.” Rob pointed at the saucer under the pot, where several small white roots were reaching out. “It needs a bigger pot unless you want it rooting into the table.”
“Pot, compost, water, come on!” Kelis chivvied them out of the room and house, down the garden to a greenhouse. Abel thought bringing the plant here would be easier, but wasn’t disturbing that happy smile for anything. The three of them came back in past the lounge, where Kelis explained they were potting the Angel Wing on because it had started to sprout. Abel wouldn’t want to spoil the happy smile from Mrs. Ventner either.
Though fifteen minutes later he wasn’t sure how they’d explain the plant. Rob had been sent back for more, longer canes, because Kelis hadn’t been content with Abel’s second, slightly stronger attempt or the third. The lush growth now sitting in a much larger pot came after she’d carefully drawn the glyph on her palm, with her finger, and given each stem a definite boost. Abel could see where the Angel Wing name came from. The leaves were bigger than his hands and a delicate red on one side, with white veins and freckles on the dark green front that blushed pink if the light came from behind. Three big clusters of pink blooms cascaded down, just as Kelis had described. “Did your mum see this before you brought it in here?”