Ferryl Shayde - Book 2 - A Student Body

by Vance Huxley

  “I could argue about the ways we spend the income, but accept the point.” Mysterio suddenly brightened. “I am suddenly looking forward to seeing the reaction in some places, and wishing your little project every success.” He turned towards his car, then turned back. “Pendragon left a watcher at the turnoff from the main road, to see who visits Brinsford. I will remove it on the way back. Call it a gesture of good faith.”

  “You’ll kill the bird?” Kelis scowled at him.

  “Oh no, I’ll break the magical compulsion and release it. That will be much more annoying.” Vicar Mysterio turned and headed for his car, whistling happily in a very not-Creepio way.

  “I don’t trust him.”

  “You don’t trust the church, full stop.” Abel smiled happily, because his mum would have been part of any collateral. “I reckon he meant it.”

  “We could have a Mysterio Creepio in the game, a church investigator with henchmen.” Rob sniggered. “See if he laughs at that.”

  “According to the betas we need at least another six characters, so why not?” Kelis flexed her fingers. “I’d better get started on some drawings. It’s a good job I hammered my homework last night.” By the time they’d discussed characters and how they’d look, then the new back story and the sorcerer’s visit, Ferryl/Jenny had to head for home. She’d finally conceded that the church wasn’t getting any real favours, while using the historic compact as a storyline might help accidental magic users. Any help presupposed people reading about Bonny’s Tavern, which led to Rob suggesting the church should advertise it on their notice boards.

  ∼∼

  During the following week word about the sorcerer’s offer spread among the magically-aware Tavern betas. Some liked the idea of a well-paid job, but not if it meant a tether that could make them limp with just a thought. Three reported they’d had flashes of cold from their wards, usually a sign that it had protected them from magic. There’d been no obvious attack, so those might have been the sorcerer checking. There wouldn’t be much ‘charity work’ to worry him anyway, not for a couple of months. The teachers had ramped up the homework again, and set the first mock exams. Those would continue right through next week, up to Easter.

  Despite being busy, Sarah and several more of the Stourton Tavern took time to check on Frederick. They were worried about Pendragon harassing an old, lonely and magically defenceless man. It might have been the defenceless part that led to Frederick telling the older lads that the Taverners could use his front room for meetings. The Taverners were cautious until he explained he had a big house and lived alone, so they could practice magic in peace.

  Mr. Forester passed a couple of messages, one at the weekend when he’d seen the new game scenario about the broken magical agreement. He thought it would sell the game better than the previous vague background, but needed more polishing. With Ferryl/Jenny obviously buried in school work, her dad didn’t press hard.

  ∼∼

  Another week went by, sheer bedlam this time because a good part of the school were taking mock exams. Everyone involved staggered home on Thursday with a huge sigh of relief. They had ten whole days to rest, the Easter Holidays, even if the teachers had given them a stack of revision to complete.

  For the rest of Easter Abel and his two friends needed the peace and quiet of Castle House Gardens, and glyph practice, to cheer them up now and then. Ferryl/Jenny came to Brinsford for a few hours almost every day, except Easter Sunday when her extended family gathered. Abel begged off because Jenny wasn’t a genuine friend, not really. He still intended finding another host for Ferryl, one who needed medical aid long-term and could be his friend, not girlfriend. He spent Easter with his mum, as usual. Kelis’ aunty visited for two days, bringing her eggs and a card. A few cards arrived for Kelis from other relatives but they’d given up on her mum years ago, driven off by Mr. Ventner.

  Kelis saved some chocolate egg for the Goblins, carefully sharing out the tiny pieces, and gave a larger piece to dryad Chestnut. When she told him, Abel donated some of his egg to the dryad in Dead Wood, as a reward for keeping watch. Rob had eaten most of his chocolate before he found out, but then he finally forgave the Willow dryads for tricking him and gave all three a few pieces.

  ∼∼

  Abel didn’t have time to practice glyphs very often once school started again. The teachers were in hyper-drive, hammering information into reluctant brains so it would be fresh in June. Tavern meetings during the week were abandoned by all the students, as was any development of characters. The only progress with Bonny’s Tavern came when Mr. Forester called a meeting during the Mayday weekend. Forewarned that it would be serious business, all three mothers attended.

  Mr. Forester didn’t beat about the bush. “Someone is making enquiries about the legal status of your game. You need to copyright and trademark Bonny’s Tavern as soon as possible.”

  “It isn’t ready.” Abel darted a glance at Ferryl/Jenny. She hadn’t said a word.

  Mr. Forester noticed. “I didn’t tell Jenny. She needs to concentrate on exams. That’s why I want to sort it all out now, then she can go to school on Tuesday without thinking about any distractions.”

  “You want us to sign up now?” Jess, Kelis’ mum, sounded rightly suspicious.

  “Not right this moment. We can thrash out the details, amend these papers, and I’ll leave them and this.” He put a bundle of twenty-pound notes on the table. “Part of the loan in these documents. Pay me back if you don’t sign, or get a receipt if you do and it goes through the accounts. That money will pay for you to see a lawyer, any lawyer not involved with me, to have the papers looked over. If your lawyer gives them a clean bill of health, we’ll all sign. Then I’ll make a phone call and anyone trying to claim copyright, or trademark the name, will be out of luck.”

  “What if they already started?” Abel’s mum, Chris, glanced at Abel. “The betas have been messing about with it for over a year so it’s been sort of public.”

  “We’ll sue, and win, and then claim costs and damages. I’m betting one of these three,” he nodded at Abel, Kelis and Rob, “have some old computer files from when they started. They’ll be dated. According to my lawyer that’s all we’ll need. We won’t be fighting over the use of an established name like Ford or Heinz.” Mr. Forester leant back. “How far back do your files go?”

  He’d looked at Abel, but both Abel and Kelis looked at Rob. Rob shrugged, a little bit embarrassed. “I’ve probably got the original sketches, and scans of them, and the first concept notes. Eighteen months back, or a bit more?” He nodded towards Kelis and Abel. “They always tease me, but the old stuff might come in handy.”

  “Those files are pure gold if anyone is trying to hijack Bonny’s Tavern.” Opening a file, Mr. Forester pushed it towards Terri, Rob’s mum, and then another towards the other two women. “I’m already on first terms with Chris and Jess.” He held out a hand to Rob’s mum. “My name is Jake. Let’s hope we are still speaking when I leave.”

  Abel felt fairly sure some of the next bit went past everybody at the table except Mr. Forester. They’d definitely need a lawyer, though the bones of the agreement were very clear. Mr. Forester would put in ten thousand pounds, as a loan to a new company called Bonny’s Taverners. He’d already registered it, but a hundred of the pounds on the table bought the company and name from him. Ninety-six of the pounds in the end, because the first big tussle came over the amount his daughters would get.

  The teenagers, all four, kept out of it. Mr. Forester wanted to buy five percent for each of his two kids, and offered to settle for four when the mums weren’t happy with that. He hadn’t reckoned on three mothers fighting for their children. Jess, Chris and Terri made no bones about it; their kids had sweated blood for a year and a half over Bonny’s Tavern and they weren’t giving it all away. In the end Jenny’s dad settled for four percent, split between Diane and Jenny. Abel would never be sure if he meant the last bit, that it wasn’t that important. If the
game took off then four percent of millions would make both girls wealthy, but if it didn’t then even ten percent of hundreds or possibly thousands wouldn’t help them much. Abel exchanged glances with his mum. Ten percent of hundreds looked like a lot to them.

  Mr. Forester won one concession; he got to be on the board with a two percent stake. To be honest, Abel felt relieved. With the businessman trying to make money for himself and his daughters, there wouldn’t be much wrong with the actual business plan. The negotiations continued with the three mums doing their best for their kids, down to insisting directors weren’t paid until there were serious profits. Eventually Kelis opened the little bar built into the bookshelves and everyone drank a toast to success, in soft drinks.

  Mr. Forester didn’t get it quite right. All four teenagers kept worrying until Thursday. A lawyer in Stourton took until then making sure the mothers knew exactly what they’d be agreeing to. Pens and paper met the same afternoon, and Bonny’s Taverners changed hands. Mr. Forester told them he’d get the copyright and trademark sorted out, then leave it all until the holidays. They should forget about it until then. The students did their best to comply, ably assisted by increasingly frantic teachers and heaps of work.

  Abel had one more minor interruption, a mystery phone call asking if he wanted the key to Castle House. When he asked how much she wanted for it, the woman’s voice said he’d find out nearer the school holidays and rang off. Despite him being intrigued the first of Abel’s GCSEs, Graphic Art, drove the phone call out of his head. From then until the last of the GCSEs he never gave it a thought.

  ∼∼

  The last exam left Abel drained and sort of numb, relieved and privately very proud. Pass or fail he’d done it all honestly. Abel had been very sorely tempted in some exams, because Zephyr could have been the ultimate cheat sheet. She’d watched all his lessons and revision through his eyes, and listened to the teachers. Abel had even recited swathes of his notes to her. It started as a way to help Zephyr learn to read, but then he’d found he remembered the notes better afterwards. If he’d been truly desperate Abel could have left her with his textbooks and notes, hidden in his locker, to give him the answers down the spooky-link.

  Rob grumbled he would have done that, used Zephyr. He only believed Abel hadn’t because Abel was an idiot, too stupid to realise that if he had a cheat sheet in his head that was the same as knowing. Kelis seemed to breeze through the lot, calm and unruffled and pointing out that after glyphs, maths was a doddle. Abel couldn’t see how, and Rob didn’t look so sure.

  Though the following day Abel felt in a terrific mood, relieved, and so did the others. They wanted a way to let off steam, perhaps with some extravagant glyph-throwing in the Dead Wood? Spooky-phone shot out to connect all three. “Can I join in to try out my glyph as well?”

  The trio agreed that watching Zephyr playing with wind might be even better. The sprite soon showed she’d been practicing control of her one allowed glyph. Her leaf performed gentle gymnastics, barely fluttering, while her handful of gravel lifted, fell, spread out to a thin layer then came together into a ball, all in mid-air. Even with what Ferryl said, that with wind as her element Zephyr would find the glyph easy, the three examiners were impressed. After all, Zephyr couldn’t draw on her hand so the glyphs were formed and controlled with pure imagination.

  “Good enough?” Abel looked around and Kelis and Rob nodded. “Fire?” Both looked apprehensive, but nodded. Zephyr could be exuberant sometimes. Adopting Kelis’ casually suggested ‘Flying Fist of Doom’ as a nickname sort of personified that. Abel turned to the hovering ripple. “Fire, but very, very small and aim at the ground. Better yet, as practice, scour a small area clear with wind first.” A small whirlwind, reminiscent of Zephyr’s first appearance, polished a patch of earth. “Do you know the glyph?”

  “Yes. I remember every glyph I have seen you throw. But please draw it so I am really sure.” Abel drew the glyph in the dust, with a tiny break so it didn’t activate.

  Abel, Kelis and Rob found themselves repeating all the warnings and precautions Ferryl had drilled into them. Eventually Abel pointed. “Right there, in the middle of the bare bit.” They all saw the glyph, a tiny one, but it didn’t seem to have any effect. Abel hesitated. The glyph might have been wrong or maybe Zephyr simply didn’t put enough into it. Unfortunately none of them knew if a wrong glyph would be visible. “A bit stronger Zephyr. Whoa!”

  “That was a little bit?” Kelis leant forward to inspect the black, glazed patch in the dirt, still smoking.

  “Maybe I had too much intent?” Kelis and Rob rolled about laughing at that. The one part Zephyr needn’t worry about was intent. “The difference between very little and a bit more is hard to judge, harder than wind. Maybe I can’t work any other glyph?”

  Rob chuckled and held out his hands as if warming them on the scorch mark. “I reckon anything on the other end of that would agree you can work the glyph. Now you just need to dial it down from charred to medium rare.”

  A disheartened Zephyr didn’t recognise Rob’s joke. “I am sorry. I thought I might inherit fire control from Abel, because it is his favourite glyph.”

  “I can show you? You can sort of judge from the magic flows?” Abel wasn’t sure if her magic vision worked like that, but he cheered up Zephyr. The three teenagers spent a happy hour varying the amount of heat they threw into the earth or a selection of bits of leaf and twig. After each attempt, an excited puff of wind tried to copy them.

  After that the three humans practiced water, watched by a very interested Zephyr though she promised to make no attempt at it whatsoever. Water glyphs led to magnificent Glyphmistress smug because Kelis had taken to this one really well. She claimed it felt even easier than wind, and Kelis hadn’t chosen Windcatcher as a game name by coincidence. Rob grumbled that they were all a pain, air or fire or water, though he could now get the currents to swirl where he wanted to in his saucer. Abel managed to make his mist produce a few drops of rain, and could create a whirlpool in his saucer. Neither came close to Kelis’ waterspout, using almost all the water in her saucer. She even directed it out and across the grass until it ‘tripped’ over a clump of grass and splashed them. Once again Zephyr watched intently. Being allowed to play with fire seemed to have really fired her up, as it were.

  Before leaving, Zephyr practiced her fire again. Ferryl/Jenny had two more exams before she could visit, by which time the three of them were going to get the sprite trained.

  Three days later, the celebration after the end of Jenny’s exams and the big reveal of Zephyr’s fire skills led to a pop and crisp party, and some very silly Glyphmistress dancing. Anyone walking past Castle House must have heard, though the barrier spell might make it sound like witches and monsters having a rave-up.

  A Bloody Bargain

  Abel’s good mood lasted all the next day, Friday, until late evening when his phone rang. The “People are Strange” ringtone meant an unknown number, and Abel certainly didn’t recognise the woman’s voice.

  “Outside Castle House. Be quick because we did not feed the youngling today. She has a message, but will need fresh blood to survive long enough to show you. Hurry.” The caller rang off.

  Abel wasn’t falling for that. He called Rob and Kelis first, because Ferryl/Jenny wouldn’t be allowed to come to Brinsford this late. When they met Rob suggested sending a couple of Goblins, maybe Batlins, to take a look. While Rob negotiated with the munchkins, Abel escorted Kelis home for some leftovers as a bribe. Abel hadn’t spoken to Chestnut for weeks, so the greeting on the way back past the village green came as a surprise.

  “I hope you have not brought more trouble into our lives.”

  “What sort of trouble, dryad Chestnut? That is a question you want to answer, so there will be no payment.” Though Abel wasn’t sure he’d get away with that. Chestnut liked its honey.

  “That is unkind, but just. You allowed the scaled watcher inside the village, and then hunted it openly
for all to see. You should have trapped it quietly, or not let it in.”

  “It didn’t want to be trapped. It’s your fault it got in, or dryads in general. None of you will help with protection, so we have to use stakes which can be pulled out. Nobody would pull trees up.” Abel smiled happily. He hoped that idea would eventually persuade the dryads to contribute tree magic for the boundary.

  “Not yet, young but usually polite apprentice. I still do not trust you even if the wind whispers of a dryad who has been given a new tree.” Abel knew it wasn’t the wind. The dryad meant snatches of impressions gathered from birds and fae, or larger animals. “You could have trapped the creature in its tunnels, then asked the church trees to strangle it.”

  “The dryads in the church trees won’t talk to us. We’ve stopped even trying.” Rob had spent months trying to recruit them.

  “Next time you get something like that, ask. Some creatures just need killing. Has the other apprentice got honey?”

  “No, Kelis brought scraps for Goblins.” Abel glanced at Kelis, who had stopped and turned back. “We want them to look at what might be a problem.” Abel explained.

  “Braeth Huntian has left your arm. What you have now is much smaller and weaker, but intriguing. Did the sorceress desert you?” As usual dryad Chestnut wasn’t mincing words, though the dryad’s alternative name for Ferryl Shayde confused Abel for a moment.

  “No, she has a real host now but still trains us. This passenger is young and inexperienced, which is why we want goblins to help her scout the area. No charge for the answers.” Abel hoped the creaking after his joke meant humour.

  Kelis opened the plastic bag full of bribe. “Hello dryad Chestnut.” She peered inside. “There’s some icing in here, because mum dropped a slice of cake. It’s sweet so would you like to try it?”