Ferryl Shayde - Book 3 - A Very Different Game

by Vance Huxley

  “It varies.” Abel looked at the rest, but even Ferryl didn’t understand.

  “Renovation on churches is costly, because the church protection stops our magic working and the bishops are too busy elsewhere. If the church de-sanctifies this building, remove all their hexes, the windows will be easier.” She glanced up at them. “A combination of heat, cooling, and control of colour can replicate any stained glass, matching the original shape and appearance as well as colouring. Glyphs can even warp the glass a little or put bubbles inside it to make it look older. The leading is, I was once told, much more complicated so you will still need an expert for that part. Someone non-magical will probably be cheaper because magic users never take the time to perfect those sorts of skills. Unless one of you already has experience?”

  They all shook their heads as Jenny answered. “I asked but none of the others even has a relative who works with stained glass.”

  Terese’s eyes dropped back down to the list. “The carvings and inscriptions, even the stone ones, can be built back up or recreated by someone competent with the necessary glyphs. New timber panels can be carved, stained and even aged using magic, so they are a perfect match. Any pillars or walls that are painted can be completely restored, then covered in a thin sheet of glass, and a shield to stop any further damage. Drains and wiring are non-magical work. Magical repairs will disguise where they’ve been installed.” She had a wicked smile when she turned it loose. “Check where the drains come out before throwing air glyphs down them to clear any blockages.” She handed the list to Abel. “You can hire senior apprentices for parts of the work if necessary. Some sorcerers might take on the work out of pure curiosity.”

  Abel handed the paper on to Jenny. “Can you revamp this, and come up with a new figure please? We’ll start with fifty thousand but if it’s a lot more we’ll flog something else.” Abel wanted the church set up as part of his personal mission to give his mum and Kelis’s a bit of income. His mum could be hired for the office work, for starters. “Redwolf might know someone who does this sort of work.”

  Kelis plucked it from his hand. “I’ll sort out what we can do magically, first, with Ferryl’s help. That’s if I can ever pry her off your arm. That youth and power is sticky stuff.” Abel glanced, but the grin looked genuine.

  “I can help Jenny with the launch of the game and pricing the rest, as long as I can count on my fingers.” Rob did so, very slowly with a frown.

  “You’ll be busy on your computer, buster, changing graphics and producing some new promotional material. If we’re getting the cash, I want to do this properly.” Jenny rubbed her hands together. “I’m going to get a fabulous grade in my Business Studies A-level, if I can remember the dry legal bits.”

  “Which brings us back to these.” Abel reached out to the vase he’d brought in last time, the really expensive one. “I also want something like this sold, but not in a hurry and not publicly. The money will be used wherever a Tavern player discovers magic. It will cover transport and accommodation for someone to help them get past leaf fluttering, and maybe some assistance in setting up a local branch if there’s several people in one area.”

  “What is the eventual goal? Are you setting up an organisation to take over areas of the country? That could cause serious problems with an increasing number of sorcerers.” Mz Green looked totally serious and a little worried. “As your solicitor, I advise against it.”

  “We won’t take over anywhere that’s claimed, just fill in the gaps. The idea is to do this on the cheap. Creepio told me that there’s huge areas of the countryside without magical protection, and we know the poorer parts of Stourton have none.” Abel warmed to his theme, though he’d never really thought it through before. As he talked he could suddenly see it, in his mind, a whole network of Taverns spreading across the country to fill in all those gaps. They’d be in remote or impoverished places, council estates and villages where few believed in the church and none knew about magic so there wasn’t any money to be made. With no contracts or worshippers at stake, neither church nor sorcerers should object. Abel’s new woodlands would provide the magic to allow new Tavern recruits to progress quickly, to where they could protect their own little village or maybe housing estate.

  First the new Taverners would be taught enough to hunt down and drive out or destroy the likes of skurrits, globhoblins and ganshbaal. Once they’d cleared the worst, the new recruits would be shown how to place hexes to keep out smaller pests such as fae, hoplins, and thornies. Stronger Tavern members would visit to help them with any larger creatures such as varglin, beinsnork, grelf or blood leeches that preyed on humans. Coastal villages may have problems with amanatik, and Abel had no idea what nasty creatures might live in the waters off the coast. As each small group of Taverners became strong enough they could put up a magical barrier like the one around Brinsford. In towns they could achieve a similar effect by hexing lamp posts, fence posts and street signs. Those who lived on farms could plant stakes or power hexes with the magic in hedgerows to deter some of the magical grazing creatures. Crops would be healthier with fewer grazers sucking magic out of the plants, and herds could maybe have hexes painted on them to stop the likes of fae. Pictsies and piskies could be encouraged into stock yards and barns to protect the new-born animals.

  Human babies, pets and old folk would be safe from the pests, and their cars and computers freed of gremlins. Once the local Tavern were more adept, they could let the helpful faeries, pictsies, brownies, and pixies back in, and the piskies to help keep the chickens, dogs and rabbits clear of pests. There’d be fewer illnesses when the helpless weren’t targeted and drained of enough magic to weaken them. Pictsies and piskies would cut down on gnats and fleas, and if rats or mice were a problem Abel could arrange for the local Tavern to adopt a small goblin meld. Those would also eat discarded food and help with litter and, with a few batlins, would deal with any small creatures who came through a barrier inside cars. The Taverns could then extend their protection to the local non-church schools and colleges. Bit by bit they’d drive the nasties away from all the inhabited areas in the country.

  When he finally stopped, Abel realised how hard Ferryl gripped his hand. He looked at her, and beyond, surprised by the stunned looks from his friends. Kelis recovered first. “Wow, Abel. You’ve never put it like that before. We just sort of bumbled through inventing the game, and fell into magic, and then managed to get a bit of finance. We protected Brinsford because it’s where we live, and other Taverners are working on keeping their street or village safe, but that’s a life’s work you’ve just laid out.”

  “One human life, or two or three. Since you’ve told me I’ll live that long, I’ve got that to spare and more. I’m in.” Jenny giggled, shockingly loud. “Dad would have kittens. You never mentioned profit once.”

  “We’ll have to make some money, someplace. We can’t steal Abel blind to get it done.” Rob’s rueful smile accepted they were here with goodies from the house to do just that.

  “So we make the Bonny’s Tavern game profitable. You get the graphics and the rules and those descriptions as perfect as you can, and I’ll sell it.” Jenny hesitated, then leant over to hug Rob. “Sorry, it’s just that sort of moment. I won’t tell Kathy if you don’t tell, um, anyone?”

  “Deal.” Rob looked at Kelis with a little half-smile.

  “Not likely. Jenny got lucky but I’m not risking it. I could end up in a furry catsuit if I get too near to you. All that power and youth gunk means Abel’s too dangerous for any woman under a thousand years old.” She smirked at Abel and Ferryl but it faltered.

  Ferryl hadn’t said a word, still looking at Abel with a little half-smile. “Power is over-rated and youth passes. A mission though? I’ve never had a mission, or thought beyond finding the next host.” Out loud she answered Kelis. “Yup, he’s still covered in the stuff.” She turned to Terese Green and continued in a brisker tone. “So we’d better get this carnival on the road. Can you do
what Abel asked, Terese?”

  Terese didn’t quite shake herself, but she definitely needed a moment to get her professional persona back in place. “That is definitely ambitious, but technically feasible. I’ll need to know how much of this money has to become public. Private sales between sorcerers will be taxed at one percent but can’t be spent openly. Those sorts of sales in the public domain will attract at least twenty percent tax, but there is a middle ground. Funds from sales to sorcerers can become public if we create the right story, but only be taxed at seven percent. The tax is allegedly to cover adjusting public records.” Terese checked the notes she’d been making. “You need a hundred and fifty thousand after taxes, a third to be donated to the charity. If it isn’t incredibly urgent, I can arrange that with the seven percent tax option.” Abel nodded. “Then a large sum of cash, three hundred thousand or so, from a private sale. That will be used here and there, quietly so it doesn’t attract attention. You would only pay one percent on that part unless you are careless.”

  Abel nodded again, even if the figures still didn’t seem real. He’d just arranged to get nearly half a million quid in cash, but couldn’t spend a penny on his mum. “There’s no hurry for the last part. We don’t expect many more recruits unless the game actually sells.” He tapped the vase again. “This will be more than enough, until we know how it’s all going to work out.”

  “Charitable work will be a novelty for Woods and Green.” Terese hesitated for a few moments. “You might want a different firm representing you for that part.”

  “I want Woods and Green involved in the business and the charity, even if it’s just a little. Jenny’s dad already has one solicitor working on both so you’ll have to sort it out with them.” Abel repeated what Creepio had said about any clients getting very good service in disputes. With a smirk Terese agreed, and promised to arrange minor roles in both the business and charity if he signed the necessary papers. If Abel and Mr Forester didn’t know someone suitable, Woods and Green would find solicitors and accountants more at home with dealing with charities. After discussing which items would sell quickest, Abel asked her to keep the rest for him. On the way out he once again stopped and went back to hand her a note, and an extra vase he’d put in his school pack.

  ∼∼

  As he caught up with the others, Abel took out his phone to text Shawn. “Not yet, Abel.” Kelis sounded very serious and Abel realised all the rest looked sombre. “We need a corner seat in a coffee shop, because it’s too cold for us to be sat around outside.”

  Abel tried to find out why, but Ferryl’s hand wasn’t answering. Nobody would until they’d found a place with a table Kelis considered private enough. Even then everyone seemed intent on putting sugar or cream in their drinks. “So give. Either Ferryl or Kelis, because neither of you have any problem with bad news, not normally.”

  “My turn.” Rob hesitated, then went for it without cracking a joke, which really worried Abel. “It isn’t bad news. You can’t keep giving us money.”

  “Why not? If it’s my money.” Abel didn’t understand, he thought he’d explained it all. “I’m not really giving you it, because it’ll all be invested. It’s not even real to me, just some crazy accident in my DNA, and I’d never have inherited anything without you four.”

  “But I came in late, so I’m not entitled to the same share.” Jenny looked dead serious, she wasn’t giggling now. “Those vases and suchlike you’ve left with Terese might be worth a lot of money, but there aren’t many and unless you get through the next door that’s it. You’ve got a nice little windfall for one person, enough for a lifetime if you aren’t too extravagant, but not when it’s split five ways.”

  “You saved my life, bought me a new one, and now you are filling it with memories. What if you find a girl one day, a real one? Then you will wish you didn’t have me as part of your business.” Even Ferryl’s mental voice sounded more serious than usual. “I came in even later, in some ways.”

  Abel opened his mouth to shout in sheer exasperation, but remembered where he was so he tried to think instead. The harder he thought, the more confused Abel felt. He knew it had to be this way, that he couldn’t do anything else but share, but couldn’t put the why into words. Not at first, though as he rejected every logical reason he came up with, Abel was left with something very clear and straightforward. He had real friends, people he felt comfortable with, and the thought of losing them terrified him. “I’m scared. If I get all rich and stuff, and you don’t, we won’t have anything in common and then I lose my only friends. You hear about it all the time on the internet and on the TV. The lottery winner says it won’t change them, but a year later they’re in mansion a thousand miles from everyone they know. That’s not happening. You all have to share so we stay together.”

  A very heated but quiet fifteen minutes later the rest conceded, but reluctantly. Abel didn’t care how reluctant they were. They’d get used to being equal partners over time and if the game made millions and it still bugged them he’d accept the money back again. If the game flopped, in three hundred years the money wouldn’t matter. Ferryl kept arguing, through her hand, right up until Shawn arrived to pick them up. As the rest got into the car Abel held her back, then twirled her round and kissed her really hard. “That will help so you don’t lose the memory.”

  “I’ll definitely remember.” Ferryl looked shocked, then curious. “What memory?”

  Abel kept his voice low, so nobody in the car would hear him. “The memory of when you let someone do something to help just because they like you. Not because you are an ancient sorceress or spirit hunter, not because you can teach them magic or you scare them glyphless. Not even because of those eyes, or what your host looks like. Just because you are a friend.” He got into the car and patted the seat. “Come on.”

  “There’s not enough room for all of you. She should sit on your knee.” Rob laughed but the rest groaned because he said that every time.

  This time Ferryl shut the door, half-turned and hooked her legs over Abel’s. She snuggled in. “There, more room. This is another one on the bucket list.”

  “Who told you about bucket lists?” Kelis looked suspiciously at Rob.

  Rob smirked at her. “More importantly, what did they tell her goes on them.”

  Kelis mimed a finger in her throat. “Not back seat snogging? Yeuk.”

  “No snogging, I promise. On one condition.” Ferryl waited with a little half-smile.

  Eventually Kelis just had to ask. “What?”

  “The same applies to you and Emst, or any other sucker.” As Kelis spluttered and denied back seat anything with anyone, ever, Ferryl reached across to high-five Jenny.

  ∼∼

  Despite Abel’s revelation, the discussion, and giving Terese the goods, none of it had an immediate result. For now, Bonny’s Tavern was under-financed despite a small influx of cash. After Christmas, Abel, Kelis, Rob, Jenny and Ferryl had become true investors, using the seven-thousand-five-hundred pounds from the additional pieces of jewellery ‘found’ at the same time as the Christmas presents. Not a fortune to some people, but now it wasn’t only Mr Forester’s ten thousand pounds financing the proposed launch. Jenny had revamped her plans for the launch, but not as much as she’d have to very soon. Not yet, she could hardly tell her dad there’d be another surprise windfall.

  The others helped her prepare, in between discussions about Abel’s mission. Abel wouldn’t call it that, but the rest did when he wasn’t about. The more they thought about it, the more the four of them thought Abel was right. The sorcerers and church had turned their backs on the poor or isolated communities, leaving them at the mercy of a myriad of small, continual magical attacks. Even if the Accord meant no magical wars or large magical predators such as ogres, thousands of people were being targeted day after day for tiny bits of their magic. That left them weaker, maybe easier prey to disease or just feeling unhappy, and in some cases it might kill them. Now, if Abel could let
others have access to the magic in his trees, teenagers all around the country could make a difference. No monster slaying, but even a relative newcomer could squish globhoblins, thornies and fae if they had training and extra magic.

  Though Abel’s mission would have to wait for a little while, until the money came through, and even then it had to be spread carefully. Selling the goods and organising payments would take time, but despite knowing that, Abel dashed down to check the post every morning. He wasn’t the only one impatient to get started, he had four texts first thing every morning asking if he’d had any news. Unfortunately Kelis did receive some news, much less pleasant than the good news the Taverneers were waiting for. Her mum received notification that Mr Ventner’s case was coming to court. Kelis’s dad’s lawyers had run out of ways to put off the final reckoning.

  The only person in Brinsford who had to give evidence, outside Kelis and her mum, was Abel because he’d called 999 the night Kelis’s dad really lost it. He didn’t enjoy the experience. Abel said his piece, then denied being Kelis’s boyfriend at the time or lying about what he’d heard and seen to help her out. To be honest, he didn’t think the defence were too worried about him. With a definite sinking feeling, Abel waited to find out how Kelis got on.

  She surprised him, and probably the lawyers. Kelis wasn’t shy and frightened these days, and much to Abel’s relief she didn’t lose her temper. Instead she clearly and calmly recounted a long list of instances where her dad had bruised her or slapped or thumped her mum. It had been worse than Abel and Rob ever realised, and started long before she arrived in Stourton. The defence got stuck in, but Kelis replied calmly and refused to be rattled. Afterwards she told the Taverners that when it got nasty she’d imagined filling the lawyer’s pants with fire glyphs. Jess, Kelis’s mum, looked nervous when it was her turn but she stuck to her guns, backed by the medical evidence and the police reports.