Ferryl Shayde

by Vance Huxley

  “Hey, are you two plotting something back there?”

  Kelis stuck her nose in the air. “With wimp here? Fat chance. I might be plotting, but neither of you two will know until it’s too late.” They wrangled until she headed home down Brinn’s Lane while Rob and Abel turned up the road to Riverside Close. Not much of a name, but the small river going past one end had been enough of an excuse for planners needing a name for the street. To be honest, the council houses themselves weren’t very imaginative. There were four pairs and four single plain brick two or three bedroom houses, all built to the same basic plan with the same colour paintwork.

  “So what was that about?” Rob didn’t seem bothered, just nosy.

  “She still wants to know how I managed an A- for the project.” The tutor had only marked Abel down for assuming too much about pre-Norman England from the evidence. Ferryl had wanted to fry the poor man, because the assumptions were solid truth. “You know how Kelis is about schoolwork and she only managed a B+.”

  “Oh yes. I had to share your ear-bending on the way home when she found out and I don’t even take history.” Rob turned into his gate. “See you tonight?”

  “After tea.” Abel waited until he had moved out of earshot. “Will that cause trouble? Using the glyph at school?”

  “No, the magic used wouldn’t be noticed outside the building. You were very controlled.” Abel preened a little. “For a student. Now you can start to learn how to increase the strength of the wind and fire.”

  “The gravel and leaf really is just wind?”

  “Yes, because I can only remember a very few glyphs after nearly fading. Wind and fire are very versatile with control and intent. As I keep telling you.” Abel rolled his eyes and shut up, because he’d reached home and Mum would hear him.

  * * *

  Kelis couldn’t press Abel when they met Friday evening because of Rob. He spent Saturday out in the fields weaving magic traps into bushes, hopefully strong enough to deter the mystery person or creature. On Sunday afternoon, Kelis burst into the little clearing in Castle House garden with a huge smile all over her face, and began to dance around the slab. “I did it, I did it, I did it. I made magic and it worked!”

  “You managed to keep the leaf floating?” That impressed Abel because it had taken him a lot longer.

  “No, I stopped those nasty little creepies from coming into my room.” Kelis hugged Abel and danced off round the stone again. “They gross me out, but now they stay out of my room. I made my own ward. Hah! Zap, Pow, intent is my middle name, beware the mighty sorceress Kelis Glyphwielder.” She waved her hands about in extravagant gestures.

  Abel knew Kelis had been practicing because he could feel his tattoo tingling, but she’d made a ward? He tried to concentrate on a question to stop the flood from Kelis and the tirade about reckless young fools echoing inside his head. “How did you make a ward?”

  “I based it on the flower. I’ve drawn it on the inside of my bedroom door and the window pane and hidden them with posters.” She twirled, hands in the air and singing “I can do magic.”

  “Shut up, stop it a moment. That stops the creatures?”

  “Intent. I keep telling you. But how did she activate a drawing of your mark? I could understand if she’d used her own.” Ferryl sounded thoroughly confused as well as really ticked off.

  “You used the one on the Tavern sign? Not this one?” Abel tapped his jacket sleeve above the tattoo.

  “No and yes. I copied the one you drew on my arm.”

  Abel cringed as dead silence echoed in his head, before an explosive, “Men!”

  “Hasn’t it faded?”

  Any hope Abel still had died in the beaming smile as Kelis answered. “You really are joking. That thing works! Not only does it make me feel calm and safe, I can make the leaf flutter away even if it’s not floating yet. I renew your flower every night with the marker pen to make sure I don’t lose it.”

  “You drew your mark on her arm. Personally, with your own hand?” Abel tried really hard to work out how to answer that, but Ferryl saved him the bother. “You must have, if she has used it to activate a glyph. Not a glyph, the protecting marks on houses are hexes designed for a fixed purpose, and anyway….. I must think about this.” Blessed silence fell in Abel’s head, even if Kelis hadn’t finished.

  “You look serious. Are you mad about me not waiting? I’m sorry, but the things were crawling over my bed, but wouldn’t come near me. There were slimies on my pillow! Everything moved further away when I touched the flower, so I thought?” Kelis shrugged. “I thought it had to be worth a try?”

  Abel smiled at her. “Sorry. You didn’t see that tree charging across the road, or that stone statue produce teeth and claws and leap out of this cave. I’m a bit wary about magic.” He grinned. “Though even if your door had opened its eyes it would be firmly fastened to the frame.”

  “My door has eyes?” Kelis looked shocked, then recognised the grin on Abel’s face and began to laugh. “That would be a bit Disney, furniture dancing around. Could I get the vacuum cleaner and duster to clean my room up?”

  “Don’t try, please.” Abel did his best to be serious but Kelis looked so happy. “I really don’t know how things get animated, though I’m sure your door is safe.”

  “Not necessarily, but that would need many glyphs and considerable skill and intent.” Ferryl didn’t sound even slightly humorous. “What was your intent when you drew the mark?” The exasperated snort after that meant Abel wasn’t off the hook yet.

  Abel tried to keep his tone soft, because Kelis would be embarrassed. “Does the flower still make you feel safer, Kelis? Did it make you feel better, hurt less? I’m sorry if it’s a bit embarrassing, but I’d like to know.” He tried for reassuring in his smile. “That ward shouldn’t have worked, not drawn by you.”

  “Yes, I feel safe and calm, and now you’ve mentioned it my elbow hurts less.” Kelis blushed, then recovered enough for a little smile though she’d stopped bouncing around. “Don’t tell Rob that Dad twisted my elbow. Please?”

  “No, but maybe you should tell someone.” From the way Kelis hunched in on herself, that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Protection and reassurance. That makes sense because you would have real intent.” An edge of humour entered Ferryl’s tone. “Those are not the usual reasons for binding a young woman.”

  “Bound? I haven’t bound Kelis! I wouldn’t. Undo it!” Abel froze, his mouth still open as Kelis stared, then her eyes narrowed.

  “Who are you talking to?” She whirled, looking all around. “Come on out, sensei or whatever. What did Abel mean, bound?” Kelis turned back to Abel, her face pale. “Is it a bad thing?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t mean to, honest. You were upset, and frightened.” Abel knew he wasn’t answering the main question, who he’d been talking to.

  “I should have known. Young men and women. No patience, no control, and too much intent.” This time when Ferryl sighed dust and leaves blew about the clearing. “Introduce us, please.” She giggled. “I will wear clothes.”

  Kelis stared at the dust and leaves and whirled towards Abel. “He’s here, isn’t he? He or she,” she paused, eyes wide, “or it?”

  “Definitely she.” Abel took off his jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeve, and turned enough for Kelis to see his tattoo clearly. “Kelis, meet Ferryl Shayde. Ferryl Shayde, please say hello to Kelis Glyphmistress.”

  “Hah, not a Glyphmistress yet.” Abel glanced down and choked back an exclamation. Ferryl Shayde wore a long cloak that completely covered her, including a hood so only her green eyes showed. A moment later her tail appeared from behind her to wave hello. “Ask Kelis to put out a hand so that I can speak, please.”

  Abel looked back at Kelis, utterly transfixed with her mouth forming an almost perfect O. “If you put a hand out Ferryl can contact you.” Kelis didn’t alter a muscle of her expression, but she stretched out a hand. A definitely wary look greeted the
thin tendril of mist that reached out towards her. “Ferryl won’t hurt you.”

  Kelis’s quiet reply wavered just a little. “I trust you, Abel.” Her eyes didn’t totally trust the mist as it curled around her hand, and her other hand tucked across and up under her jacket to touch her mark. Abel felt the tingle.

  “Hello Kelis. I am Ferryl Shayde and will not harm anyone protected by Abel Bernard Conroy. I am bound to protect him, and you wear his mark.”

  “Bound. What does that mean?” Abel felt proud of Kelis, because she managed that with barely a tremble in her voice.

  “Not truly bound. I promised by my true-name, and he placed your ward to protect and reassure. Abel did not know what he did. He even makes me release bound houseflies.”

  “So what does bound mean?” Kelis looked at Abel and definitely nervously this time. “Can Abel control me?”

  “No, or I do not think so.”

  Abel jumped in sharpish at that. “Make sure please. I’m sorry Kelis, I didn’t know and you were worried. I said make your own…”

  “And I said yours would do the job. It has.” Kelis seemed to be calming down. “Why is Ferryl wearing a cloak? I’ve seen her before. How is a tattoo suddenly wearing a cloak? Oh God, you’ve turned round. Is that why you’ve got clothes?”

  “He insists when I turn round.”

  “Can you change them? So you look like the game? You really can move? Of course you can, your tail just waved. Sorry, it’s a bit much all at once.” Kelis seemed to be losing her worries, engrossed in the idea of a mobile, talking tattoo. Abel kept quiet, sitting down when Kelis joined them in the cave and letting his tattoo and friend get to know each other. He relaxed when Ferryl broke the ice by showing Kelis several clothes changes including Robyn D’Ritche the mercenary and her horse. Once the laughter stopped all three of them talked about the mark, and what it had done or meant.

  Ferryl didn’t know what a mark without compulsion meant, because she’d never seen it happen. The usual reason for binding anyone or anything was to compel them, control their actions. An embarrassed Kelis took off her jacket and raised her arm, while Ferryl ran a tendril of mist over the flower. “Give Kelis an order, one you really mean.”

  “Kelis, punch my arm, hard.” Abel meant it, because he deserved that at least, but Kelis laughed.

  “Not a chance. Does that mean I’m not really bound?”

  “There is no compulsion so not bound in any sense I know of. Perhaps it is not active, just a drawing. No, it taps your magic because you somehow activated a copy as a hex.” The tattoo paced back and forth a little. “The mark seems harmless but you should change it, create your own ward.”

  “No chance. It’s harmless and it works. If it ain’t bust, don’t fix it.” Kelis smiled happily as she stroked underneath her arm. “I like this one.” Abel kept quiet about the tingle in his flower, because that didn’t do any harm either.

  Eventually Kelis and Abel sat side by side, both trying to float a leaf, while Ferryl went flying off around the garden, “To see how many other strays you let in.”

  The two of them sat for a while, but neither were doing well with their leaves, and eventually Kelis started with, “So what happens now?”

  “Nothing?” Apprehensively, because Abel really wasn’t sure how she felt.

  “Something might because you bound me.”

  “I didn’t know!”

  “Not a defence in law. Does magic have law? I mean apart from the way it’s done.” Kelis didn’t sound annoyed, just curious.

  “You could make some laws?” Abel thought Kelis might, if nobody else had. “Maybe not bound, because it didn’t compel you?”

  “Incompetence isn’t a defence either.” Kelis suddenly giggled. “And I did ask for it, literally.” Her voice gentled. “It didn’t work because of intent.”

  “Lack of intent.”

  “No, Ferryl said intent.” Now Kelis spoke very softly, barely above a whisper. “Intent to protect me and make me feel better.” She leaned across, quickly kissing Abel on the cheek before sitting straight up, facing forward. Abel looked at her, surprised, and two spots of red grew on her cheeks. “If you tell Rob I kissed you I’ll kill you. It was just thank you.”

  “If you tell him I’ll commit suicide in embarrassment.”

  “Is there a glyph for that?”

  “I don’t know. You could make a new one. You already did it once.” Abel smiled happily. Ferryl really felt intimidating at times and Kelis had completely flummoxed her.

  An answering smile broke on Kelis’s face. “I told you.” She waved her hands about. “Kelis Glyphmistress.” She leant sideways and nudged Abel with her shoulder. “So watch it.”

  “I’ll hide behind my tattoo Glyphmistress.”

  “You still owe me for that, keeping Ferryl Shayde a secret.” Kelis picked up her leaf, placed it on her palm and straightened her face. She put one hand across to her arm and Abel felt the tingle, then a few moments later her leaf trembled and fluttered up briefly before slipping sideways and falling. Undeterred she picked it up and tried again. Abel didn’t need his tattoo, knowing that Kelis had forgiven him brought perfect peace though that wasn’t enough to stop his leaf dancing about a bit.

  Ferryl seemed happier when she came back, though she vetoed using Glyphmistress in the game. That would be a big hint to anyone out there this wasn’t strictly a game now.

  * * *

  For the next couple of weeks, while Kelis perfected her leaf and dust moving, Abel worked on using the fire and wind glyphs to affect more than leaves. Ferryl had him trying to knock creatures off fences or out of the air with puffs of wind. Despite all the warnings, whoever had been testing didn’t turn up though the trap in the fruit bushes caught several unwary creatures. Ferryl thoroughly examined the broken twigs or fallen leaves each time. The tally came to a pair of hoplins, two thornies, and a sprite she couldn’t classify because they were basically shapeless. None of them were strong enough to penetrate, though they might have been sent in an attempt to gauge the strength of the defences.

  Though the intrusions led to Abel’s training advancing another two steps. The second time something magical died, Ferryl used Abel’s hand to check. “A thorny. You should learn to do this.”

  “I can’t even see where to check.” Abel tried, but although he thought there might be a slight disturbance of the soil, and a scattering of brown spots on some leaves, those might be imagination. The two fallen twigs and a broken twig were definite signs, but Ferryl had been testing something else.

  “I apologise, I had been thinking you were clumsy, not blind. Usually any creature I…. ride with can see as I do. Close your eyes because this will sting.”

  There wasn’t time to wonder what Ferryl had been going to say instead of ride. No sooner were his eyes shut than they began to sting, feeling the same as after chopping two or three onions. “I hope I’m not expected to look at anything just now. We should have done this where I could splash them with water.” Abel rubbed at his eyelids, feeling the wetness of tears.

  “It will clear quickly. I forget you are not my usual host. Altering your body causes discomfort because I am not fully a part of you. A rider without reins.”

  At least that answered the part about what Ferryl had started to stay, host sounded a lot more personal than rider. Alarm jolted through Abel. “You changed my eyes? What did you do? Do they look the same?” He rubbed again. “Can I open my eyes yet?”

  “Calm down, the way the front covering of your eyes filters what you see has been altered. Your mother’s memories had some words.” Ferryl paused for a few moments, during which the stinging in Abel’s eyes almost faded. “In your words, I slightly altered the composition of your lens or pupil, and increased the sensitivity and range of your retina. Abel, your mother is not sure of what everything in there is called.”

  “Nor me. Sensitivity? Can I see in the dark?” Suddenly the stinging didn’t seem such a bad deal, not if it meant ba
t-vision.

  “You can see clearer in faint light, and will see magical creatures better. Keep your eyes closed!” Ferryl sounded alarmed and Abel scrunched his eyes as tightly closed as possible. “Just a moment.” His eyes stung again, but just a tiny irritation. “Blinding you would have been embarrassing because I’m not sure I could fix it.”

  “Blinding!”

  “Increased sensitivity to light. I had forgotten to adjust how your eyes adapt. Working from memory is much harder than being able to feel how everything works. You are safe now.”

  When Abel opened his eyes, cautiously, everything looked about the same. Not quite, when he looked properly. The shadows weren’t quite as dark, and as he concentrated a faint web of shimmering, smoky lines appeared. “That sort of spider’s web of smoke, is that magic?”

  “Spider’s web? That is very flattering, spiders are very good spinners.” Abel’s right hand, the one Ferryl had been using to check the trap, moved and pointed. “Look for where the web is broken.”

  “Got it. There’s a gap and something on the leaves and ground. Oh, there are little lines in the leaves.”

  “Later, that is their stored magic. Bring your magic to your hand without forming a glyph, and touch this trace here.”

  “Could you fix Kelis’s eyes as well, please, because that would make learning a lot easier.”

  “Once I am sure yours work properly, and that she has some control. Now hurry up and test these traces before they revert to pure magic.” Abel tried. He destroyed the first three traces because, according to Ferryl, he let the magic leak from his hand. Abel thought it might be because he kept worrying about the comment about his eyes working properly. Eventually he persuaded himself Ferryl could fix small problems, and concentrated enough to feel some sort of tingle. Ferryl claimed that each creature left a different trace and he could learn the difference, but Abel doubted it. Obtaining different types of creature traces for him to test led to another step in glyph training.

  The wind training meant Abel could knock fae out of the air. This time Ferryl allowed him to burn the grounded stingers. Not incinerate them, because that would cause a flare of light and heat and might not leave enough of a trace. Abel sighed, and concentrated on producing small, controlled heat glyphs. He really fancied letting go, blasting a great big fireball into something, but couldn’t sneak away from his own tattoo. A couple of fae flew off streaming smoke, but Ferryl considered too little much better than too much when practicing. Though even after touching the traces from the ones he hit properly, Abel couldn’t tell the difference.