by Vance Huxley
As she paused, Mr Gordon leant forward. “So I have to ask a very strange question, Abel. What exactly are you trying to do with your game? The word mission has been bandied about so exactly what is it? You have players representing every race, colour and religion in the school, even some who are gay. Some of your players have definitely protected minorities from abuse. Who are the targets of your mission?”
“Nobody, no targets because there isn’t a mission. Not as such, although as we explained, charity work is rewarded with increased health points. We are still testing the game, but it’ll be for sale everywhere in a few months.” Abel tried to explain that maybe some players were really getting into their roles and had begun to watch out for others, like some quests in the game. The headmaster seemed to think that quests to rescue goblins and dryads, different races, and players adopting characters with blue or green or brown skin might be significant.
Abel got the impression the teachers had already talked about most of this. He felt sure the pair knew exactly who was taking the game to heart, those like Rachel, but they seemed more interested in how it was done. All Abel could suggest was there were enough Taverners to stand off the smaller numbers causing trouble. At least the teachers let slip none of the pupils had complained, or seemed to be injured beyond bruising. Even Abel hadn’t been sure about the last part, because Rachel and her cohorts were very intense at times.
When he finally got clear, Abel still didn’t know what the headmaster wanted, or even if the teacher knew. He seemed pleased by the results, but worried about the methods. At least Mr Gordon would get a chance to watch the Tavern players at the dance, and could see they weren’t some sort of street gang. Kelis, Rob, Jenny and Ferryl agreed, they’d ask Rachel to be very, very careful not to get caught. At least Petra had an answer to the graffiti question. Taverners who didn’t like some of the comments written here and there were using colour glyphs or moisture and wind to make them disappear.
Apart from passing on the request about not writing Tavern hexes on walls, there wasn’t much else Abel could do. None of the five Taverneers were happy about that part because they’d be the ones putting most of the hexes under the surface, which was slow, difficult work. One definite request had to be accepted, one way or another. The Tavern really had to forgive Curtis for one night, or any tolerance from the teachers would disappear.
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Disorderly Conduct
The meeting with the headmaster finally led to the other meeting Abel had been after. Once they heard about it, the magical Taverners agreed that they had to sort out some rules as soon as possible. The more adept, senior regardless of their age, also wanted to discuss the problem of trainees who never learned to be full sorcerers. Others thought there should be a method of reporting things like the misuse of magic and a scale of punishments set in place. Generally speaking, they all wanted to get properly organised. With the launch of the game planned for the summer, both the charity and the players expected a lot of scrutiny and wanted to be ready for it.
Knowing they’d be expected to suggest some sort of structure for the magical Taverners kept distracting Abel and his close friends, more than the impending dance. They all had work to do on their costumes, especially with the dance being held at school, but that could be done at home. Most of their time together mixed shield practice with trying to write out some version of Abel’s idea, his mission, as the others kept calling it. This time it had to be right, because once the first real charity case moved into Frederick’s house, the big magical meetings there would have to stop.
The written version couldn’t mention magic, just groups of players setting up a series of Bonny’s Taverns across the country. At the meeting it wouldn’t take much to explain the magical version, but Abel wasn’t risking his mum seeing that written down. Equality, even if the written rules mentioned race and religion, also meant all levels of magic so that the weakest witch and the strongest sorcerer were all equal members. The charity would finance new refuges where there were enough Taverners interested in the idea. Although it wasn’t written down, Abel’s mystery cash would finance the hiring of premises for the magical Taverners. Any locals who fluttered a leaf would be able to train up in private, until they could protect the locals from magical creatures.
The whole thing still looked a shambles to all five of them when dance night came round. Since the meeting at Frederick’s would be the following morning, Abel collected all the notes together and left them in his bedroom. He hoped the rest of the Taverners could make sense of them. Tonight he wore the same Wind Chaser outfit he had at New Year, with the same Angry Birds balloons because he daren’t have Zephyr piloting one about at the school. When he came out of the door to meet Rob, on the way round to Kelis’s to get a lift, Abel forgot all about creating rules and missions.
“Those can’t be granite. What exactly are they?” From the waist down Rob looked at if his legs were two slabs of rock that widened to cover his feet.
“Bell-bottom jeans from a charity shop. I stuck papier-mâché to them, then hardened it and coloured the result.” Rob waddled forward. “But now I’ve realised the tiny flaw, I can’t bend my legs.”
“Don’t fall over or we’ll need a fork truck to shift you.” Abel eyed the jeans, and the stiff waddle Rob used instead of walking. “How are you going to sit in the minibus?”
“Good question. I’m hoping Ferryl has the answer. Maybe she can soften a strip around where my knees are.” The pair of them walked, or in Rob’s case waddled, to the old village shop. Zephyr inspected Rob’s jeans but daren’t alter anything in case the whole lot disintegrated.
Though Rob’s costume wasn’t the only surprise. “Do you like it?” Ferryl turned to show off what looked like a knee-length leather dress.
“What happened to your usual outfit?” Abel looked closer. “Those whiskers are drawn on.”
Ferryl turned round again. “And I’ve used makeup for my eyes and fixed the tail outside my dress rather than poking out of a hole so the teachers can see the wiring. The dress is real leather, not a seeming. Is it long enough?”
“Ferryl’s worried about the teachers. It’s all that nagging you did about showing her fur when she was a tattoo.” Kelis wore a neck to floor robe and a cloak, so hemlines didn’t really come into it. “Though I’ll bet Petra has a similar problem, what to wear instead of her shorts. What’s the betting Una leaves her sword at home?”
“Never mind that, what about Rob’s knees?” Abel explained, ignoring the laughter from Ferryl and Kelis. When Ferryl complained about students who didn’t think things through, and worked on a solution, the rest wondered who else had toned down their fancy dress for the school. At least they’d be able to wear the proper costumes tomorrow, at the meeting. By the time Samantha, Rob’s big sister, arrived to drive them, Rob’s knees were flexible. Even so, he’d have had trouble if it wasn’t for the extra leg space in the minibus.
He wasn’t the only one taking up extra space, Melanie needed some for her Crone’s hat. She spent the trip ridiculing Rob, and talking about the dance, which stopped the rest getting in more than the occasional word. They’d be able to talk tomorrow, because neither Melanie nor Diane, Jenny’s sister, would be at the meeting in Stourton. Only the reasonably adept would be there, because they had more experience of the practical aspects of magic. Just as well, as both youngsters would have used being younger siblings to push their agendas, and both had embraced Rachel’s mission.
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“Good God, it’s like one of those gaming conventions.” Samantha stared at the children in costumes streaming in through the school gates. “Cosplay, that’s it. I’m pleased I refused to babysit. A bit of string in the back of my shorts ain’t gonna cut it tonight.” She turned in the driver’s seat to point at Melanie. “I told mum and dad you don’t need a keeper, so don’t mess up. Believe me, you’ll be sorry if I have to watch over you another time.”
> “I’m all grown up now.” Melanie stuck her nose in the air. “If I can come to school on the bus I can go to the school dance on my own.” Her face broke into a big smile. “Ooh look, Diane’s here, and Rachel! Bye.”
Samantha turned to Rob. “Best of luck. I’ll be back to collect you at 10:30, so don’t get thrown out early. You owe me big time for this.”
“Tripe. If you’d borrowed dad’s car for a night out in town it would have cost you petrol.” Rob carefully swivelled his hips. “Now leave me in peace so I can concentrate. It’ll spoil my entrance if I fall out of the door.” He paused, shocked by the cheering.
“Why are they…?” Samantha inspected the pupils waving at either Rob or one of the others. “Tomorrow we’ll be having a talk, little brother, to decide how you buy my silence about your fan club. Especially about the girl wearing silver hot pants and netting, and the one with tight leather, fur and a club. They must be waving to you for a reason.” Rob’s vehement denials didn’t slow her up at all, especially when several members of the local archery club turned up in wildly differing versions of Bullseye the Bowman, or Bow-woman. “How did Robin Hood sneak into the game?” She kept up comments about the costumes and Rob’s reception as the rest climbed out, then set off for town.
“I’d rather they’d kept it quieter, toned it all down.” Abel waved to some of the Taverners. “Mr Gordon is watching.”
“And he’ll see everyone wearing daft costumes, laughing and making jokes. No dark, mysterious cult or nasty gang stuff.” Ferryl slipped her arm through his. “They’ll have to relax the school rules about couples tonight. Some of these are from the college or St. Agatha’s, or have left school.” She waved to Lovingly Sculpted, wearing more leather and fur than skin tonight. “Quite a few have covered up, and not just because it’s cold.”
“Phew, I‘m pleased she’s gone before Kathy arrived.” Rob shrugged at the curious looks, because his girlfriend wasn’t a secret. “You haven’t got a big sister, especially one looking for payback after the grief I gave her over some of her boyfriends.” He looked around, then pointed. “Crikey, are those TV cameras?”
“I hope not. Smile everyone, because we’re on someone’s home movies. Let’s get indoors out of sight.” Though Abel’s hopes were dashed. As their small group came to the double doors, Bonny the Barmaid came out, all frills and petticoats and cheap flashy jewellery. Jenny really, because she’d finally finished a proper Tavern costume. She put a finger to her lips as the deputy head and a smartly dressed stranger followed her.
“Abel, or should I call you Wind Chaser tonight? Could you and your friends spare a couple of minutes for the media?” Mrs Poole’s happy smile swept across them. “We can use one of the empty classrooms. I’ll be here in case the reporters need any clarification on how the school feels about your invention. Don’t worry, the TV cameras will stay outside.” To Abel’s huge relief he soon realised Mrs Poole also meant to stop anyone giving her pupils a hard time. Even so, by the time the five of them had answered all the questions, some of the shine had gone off his evening. The practice when the teenagers had explained the game to their parents or teachers came in handy.
Abel would never be sure if Mrs Poole or Mr Gordon set the next part up, or if it really was coincidence. He could hear the music from the hall, but then it stopped and the headmaster could be heard welcoming everyone. As the deputy head opened the door to let them into the school hall, Mr Gordon paused. “Just a moment, we have some late arrivals.” Everyone turned to look. “Just as well we waited. I’m told no Tavern would be complete without a Bonny the Barmaid. She seems to have brought Ferryl Shayde, Ka-liss if I’ve said that right, a Rock and Roll sorcerer, and I’m sure that’s the Wind Chaser.”
“Don’t worry, no media cameras in here. School policy.” Abel barely heard the deputy head because the Taverners, magical and otherwise, were laughing and cheering. “Though there’ll be plenty of pupils with a phone so smile for your fans.”
Not really, Abel realised with huge relief because for one awful moment he’d thought it might be that crusade thing Ferryl had been on about. Some really were cheering for Abel, but a good few Taverners were cheering the headmaster for naming the game characters, and others were shouting to his friends or just chanting “Tavern, Tavern.” Even so, walking down the lane that opened for Mrs Poole left him bright red. The headmaster finished by hoping everyone had a good time, and the music started again.
“I hope you’ve remembered the dancing lessons.” Ferryl’s hand caught hold of Abel’s so she could ‘talk’ silently. “I saw Curtis. He’s dressed as Champ the Bouncer and cheering like a lunatic.” A mental giggle tickled Abel’s mind. “Rachel and a couple of others are watching him, but I don’t think he’s noticed. They’ve left it to the non-magical Taverners to actually talk to him.”
Abel almost asked Zephyr to connect him, but some of the non-magical pupils might be the type who almost saw magic. “Zephyr? You’ll have to stay in the tattoo in here. Would you like to fly free outside?”
“I can have a party with the dryads.”
Abel laughed out loud, even as he felt Zephyr leave the tattoo. “Sorry, someone has gone to party with dryads.” He looked down at Ferryl’s feet. “If I’ve forgotten the steps, I’ll just have to fake it and try to miss your toes.” As they started dancing, Abel glanced round and relaxed, because he’d no idea who most of the other dancers were. Between the non-magical Tavern players, the non-players, and the total strangers who had come with some of the pupils, he was almost anonymous. He should do this more often, instead of being surrounded by magical Taverners or people like Creepio.
By the time Samantha turned up to collect them, Abel felt sure neither the headmaster nor deputy head harboured any real suspicions about Bonny’s Tavern. At any other gathering like this there might have been the occasional glyph but the magical Taverners, nearly fifty of them, all knew better tonight. None of them even mentioned the meeting tomorrow. Una complained about not having her sword, but with a smile because Rob offered to give her his plastic one for the next dance. Even Zephyr felt happy and relaxed when she came back, and really had been to visit the dryads.
The good mood lasted all the way home, helped by Melanie being totally worn out and dozing off. Either that or none of them saw Ferryl hit her with a sleep glyph. For once the four of them could talk in front of Samantha without worrying about what they said, because nothing magical had happened. After bidding Ferryl goodnight, Abel walked back home with Rob and Melanie. He let himself in, sneaked upstairs and fell asleep without even thinking about tomorrow, or the big meeting.
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Abel’s good mood persisted the following morning, even while he stuffed the notes about the Tavern into his school bag. Rob wasn’t quite as cheerful, because he’d had to deal with Melanie complaining because she couldn’t come to Stourton. She thought the four of them were going to help out at Frederick’s and wanted to meet up with Rachel. Shannon had borrowed her mum’s little car so she could get to Brinsford and act as chauffeur, because she wanted to drive the minibus. Her parents were a little bit snobbish about her going to St. Agatha’s, the church school, and hadn’t wanted her to go to a dance at the Comprehensive. Now, once she’d picked up Jenny, Shannon wanted to know everything that happened.
That kept them all busy until they reached Frederick’s house. “That’s strange. There’s usually a few people out the front, even if they have to be careful not to use magic.” Abel looked up the path towards the house as Shannon pulled up. “I’m surprised nobody is at the front door.”
“Maybe they’ve already started. We aren’t late, but if everyone else was already here?” Kelis shrugged as she carefully felt for the step with her foot. She couldn’t see it properly because of her Glyphmistress robe.
Rob jumped out without any problem. He’d decided to wear ordinary jeans, stone-washed of course, until he could design something better than the last effort. “No goblins either, even
as gargoyles. Though if there’s a barbecue in the back garden they’ll be round there scrounging.”
“We’ll know in a minute.” Abel turned to Shannon. “If you park on the grass with the others, we’ll wait for you before we go in.” She nodded in reply and drove along the road to the driveway, where part of the lawn had become a temporary car park.
Meanwhile Kelis led the way through the gate as the front door opened. “I thought you were all asleep in there.” She stopped and the rest crowded up behind her as the first person came out. “Natalie?” Effy and then Claris followed the shunned fourteen-year-old Taverner out of the door. One look at Claris’s face told Abel there was a big problem, because she looked terrified. He soon realised why as Pendragon followed Claris outside, a hand on her shoulder.
“Welcome to Stourton Tavern, a subsidiary of Pendragon Enterprises.” The sorcerer let go of Claris and moved to the side, away from the doorway. Natalie followed him, but Effy brought a baseball bat out from behind her back and raised her other palm to Claris.
“Follow your new master, or I’ll burn you.” Effy’s entire manner and voice had altered. Gone was the quiet, nervous woman they all knew, replaced by someone who looked ready to do just that, burn someone. “Move it! You’ll learn, once Pendragon puts your tether on.” Her vicious smile disappeared, replaced by something much softer as she looked towards Pendragon. “Though you won’t get a special one. That’s just for me. Maybe he’ll let me keep you as a maid, since you’re useless at magic.”