by Vance Huxley
“Most such sorcerers, magic users who were also believers, joined the church. Bishops were probably at sorcerer level, but the church did not admit women unless they became nuns. As a result, most women could only become witches or sorceresses outside the church. Perhaps bad or good depends on the sorceress, not religion or magic.” Ferryl sounded as if that might be a new idea to her as well.
“Do we, the religious ones, even need a Tavern hex or mark? After all, the creatures avoid us anyway.” This young woman had a silver cross on a chain around her neck, and now pulled a wooden hex from her pocket.
“Vicar Creepio said the christening marks or a cross frighten magical creatures but if they overcome the fear, they can still hurt you.” Kelis nodded towards Abel. “I saw something try to bite Abel, and his ward stopped it. He didn’t get a scratch.”
“The ward works, because on several occasions it has turned icy cold and deflected magic.” Abel tapped the flower, now showing because everyone wanted to see Ferryl Shayde. “Mine is a tattoo to look at, but it goes down to the bone and is stronger than any drawn symbol.”
“A cross or a wooden Tavern hex irritates the magical creatures, but does not actually harm them or protect the person. Not unless the cross is on a church, or charged with a specific spell, or is a magical talisman such as the churchman carried. Someone like Seraphim but with real intent could affect a person carrying a cross or a wooden hex. They might even bind someone marked at church because that is an ephemeral symbol. Magical protection must be a permanent mark on the skin, or to the bone for true protection, and preferably a unique personal ward.”
Looking from the silver cross to the wooden hex, Shannon frowned. “So the cross and the hex are the same.”
“No, the hex is charged with magic, so it is stronger. Maybe a priest could put church magic into a cross?”
“Does anyone go to confession?” A cautious hand went up. “You could ask if magic is considered evil or good.” Rob smiled to take any sting out of the next bit. “Since most of us appear to be the ungodly.”
“I asked. There is no magic, just God’s miracles.” The young man who came with Petra, a neighbour of hers, looked confused. “I carried on meditating because it really is peaceful, sort of like prayer can be sometimes. When the leaf moved, I asked again. The church does not believe in magicians. The only magic is God’s, the magic of faith.” His brow wrinkled in thought. “I suppose that explains why the cross keeps the creatures away but so does the hex.”
“What about creatures? Mark, isn’t it?” He nodded and Shannon shrugged. “I daren’t ask at school, because there aren’t any.”
A smile finally appeared on the young man’s face. “The Father thinks I’m imagining the creatures. I’m supposed to say Hail Mary until they disappear.” A ripple of amusement went round the group because they could all see faeries flying past the window.
“We met an Archbishop who definitely knows all about magic and uses some version of it, so don’t worry. Maybe the vicars, priests, that sort of person, don’t know?” Kelis swept her eyes across everyone there. “We should all try to find out who does know about magic.”
“Meanwhile, are you going to keep developing the game?” Justin, the fifteen-year-old beta who had started a Tavern with his fourteen-year-old sister Rachel, looked decidedly guilty. His sister suddenly looked really worried. “It’s just that my cousins live the other side of Leeds and when we went on holiday together we showed them the game. There’s seven of them, with their friends, and they’re forming their own Tavern.”
“My cousin is beta testing and said he knew people nearby who would be interested. I’ve no idea how many but he lives in the Pennines near Sheffield.” More and more confessed to including friends and family until Abel called a halt.
“We either stop the game now, and just stick to magic, or try and work out how to deal with magic users popping up all over.” Abel scowled. “I’m not keen on the second option.”
“I am. We visited my aunt in Hull last weekend and her house is overrun. I left a hex in the kitchen behind some tins.” Petra shrugged. “I’d like to know how to fix one into her wall, permanently.”
“There seem to be creatures everywhere there’s no church protection, so somebody has to do something about it.” Justin looked defiant. “A few more Taverns will help.”
That roused a storm of mainly agreement until Shawn, the nineteen-year-old who had arrived on the scooter, managed to quieten everyone down. “I hardly know anyone here, but you seem to cover a good part of Stourton and most of the nearby villages. None of us has seen any sign of a sorcerer protecting an area like Abel and his friends have tried to. I don’t want my parents, other relatives or friends to have those things wandering through their houses. To fix that we’ve got to organise. Who is in charge?”
“I vote for Ferryl Shayde, on the magical side.” Eric, Warren’s big brother, loved meeting the moving tattoo.
“I can’t!”
“Why not?” Abel thought that had to be the best idea yet.
“I have promised to protect Abel Bernard Conroy for ninety years, and teach him magic as safely as I can. How can I watch over all these others?”
“Not watch over, not directly. If you are teaching Abel, will you also advise us please, Ferryl Shayde?” Eric sounded very respectful, and looked directly at Abel’s arm as he spoke.
“You truly wish this?” The round of agreement left little room for doubt, everyone wanted the only honest-to-something sorceress to be teaching magic. Abel did wonder if it had occurred to them Ferryl wasn’t exactly a person, but they were all talking to a tattoo so maybe. “As long as it does not interfere with my promise to Abel, I would be honoured.”
After the cheers died down, Abel asked the other question. “What about the actual game?”
“Market it properly. Is it patented, or trademarked?”
Abel, Kelis and Rob stared at Shawn, until Rob answered. “No. We just made it up, and wanted to test it. We sort of talked about making our fortune, once we left school, but we’ve got no money to do anything about it yet. We’re fifteen.” The last bit came out a bit plaintive.
“You can get a patent at fifteen, and probably a trademark. Otherwise some elder brother or sister or parent will look at what little Jonny is playing and say hmm, that’s interesting. Next thing guess who makes a fortune?” Shawn shrugged. “They won’t have a blind idea about magic, which really will mess everything up. That Ferryl Shayde email, for instance, whose is it?”
“Mine, Dad bought me a domain.” Rob grinned. “I wanted to be a games designer.”
“That means the email and domain are under your control, which is a relief. How much do trademarks and patents cost?” A flurry of consulting phones led to it being between hundreds and thousands of pounds. Eric didn’t seem bothered, and pulled out a wallet. “Here, first donation. Forty quid. Worth it to know I’m not going to burn the house down experimenting. I’ll pay in more when I can.”
Shawn pulled out his wallet, looked inside, and grimaced. “I can manage twenty until payday?”
“Fundraisers! We can wash cars and cut grass.”
“Baking, I make a mean iced bun.”
“Boot sale, I’ve got old toys.”
“Hang on, we’ll need a proper bank account, all that sort of thing.” Shannon looked around, then through to the library. “Will your Mum let us use this as a business address, Kelis?” She wasn’t put off by Kelis’s hopeless shrug. “Ask her and I’ll pick Dad’s and Mum’s brains for how to set it up.” A big smile broke over Shannon’s face, “Fair exchange for their daughter not being taken by the dark side.”
“You’ll need people over eighteen to front you, to make a legal contract. Reliable people.” Eric grinned. “People who know that, fifteen or not, you can fry them into a grease blob if they cheat you.”
“I like him.”
“Will your mum stand for another meeting, Kelis? We’ll bring the food.” A sea of
hands agreed that the Tavern should meet in a fortnight, if Mrs. Ventner would agree. Various people promised to bring crisps, buns, cake and assorted snacks. Some more discussion agreed the next meeting would be in three weeks, the Saturday after half term, because several people already had arrangements for Valentine’s and the holiday. If Kelis’s mum wouldn’t agree, any member with a big enough room at home would work on their parents.
Meanwhile everyone would look out for signs of magical influence that wasn’t church. Sarah would approach the man in the park, but not until she had a ward, a real one down to the bone. A good few flinched at that but Ferryl wouldn’t allow anyone to really advance in magic unless they created their own ward, and several flourished drawings. Sarah had a drawing, but didn’t look convinced.
To drive home the warning, though they didn’t realise that, the entire group trooped off down to the willows. At first most of them joked about going to talk to the trees. Once everyone assembled, Abel threw a sweet in front of each tree. “Greetings, willows. Please show us your pretty human faces.”
A round of startled and complimentary comments followed as the beautiful faces with flowing hair showed, one on each trunk. Several visitors gave Abel some stick about making dryads ugly in the game, until he threw down more sweets. “Please show your true-faces. If you show your true selves, Kelis has brought real honey.”
“Truly? Real honey? What does it look like?” All the complimentary comments were forgotten as the slim but wrinkled shapes sporting twigs quickly moved out of the trees. Abel explained about these three, that they were very friendly for dryads, and started to tell everyone why.
“Let the dryads tell them why. It will convince the doubters that there really is danger.”
The sight of the dryads, and their version of the confrontation with the two Bound Shades and sorceress convinced all the visitors. The dryads did not know exactly what spells and glyphs had been used, but they had seen the flows of magic raging around Abel and the Wolf Shade, the casts by Kelis and Rob, and the physical attacks and result. All three were obviously frightened and relieved. They were also ecstatically happy once they had the honey, and claimed it lived up to expectations.
Abel confirming that his ward had gone icy cold, and Kelis agreeing hers was very cold, further convinced the trainees. Rob confessed the sorceress had ignored his wind glyphs up until he whopped her pet with an enchanted rounders bat. That added a bit of hilarity but the message went home; bad things are out there, and a proper ward can make the difference in a tight spot. Abel’s recital of what had happened to the wounded sorceress underlined just how deadly magic could be.
By now everyone wanted to see real magic, not leaves and dust dancing. Kelis and Abel tossed sticks and stones about by magic and burned little sticks out of the air, before Ferryl gathered dozens of tiny pebbles using a cloud of glyphs. After the descriptions, everyone wanted to see Ferryl control thrown sticks, and they all threw a stick or stone. Ferryl’s glyphs seized each one and diverted them unerringly into a shape drawn in the mud.
Petra topped it off with her own new party trick, her signature move, learned while she practiced wind glyphs. She held her hands apart and threw two wind glyphs at each other, producing a loud clap out of thin air. That impressed everyone more than the acknowledged magicians’ tricks. Better yet, it encouraged the new apprentices and they promised to spend long hours practicing control.
Even after all the warnings about pain, nine people went into the library, one at a time, and burned their ward into the bone. Kelis gave them plenty of ice from the little fridge to try and numb the pain and Abel gave each one wadded tissues to bite. Each person carried out the warding alone with only Ferryl’s wind form present, to help them concentrate and also protect everyone’s modesty. All of them were warned they’d use the ward to help with magic, so everyone chose somewhere they could touch through clothes in public.
Sarah finally plucked up courage because that man in the park worried her. Even then she wanted time to learn much more about magic before approaching him. Meanwhile Sarah would take note of exactly what he did, and a couple of the nearest apprentices would also have a look. After the story from the willows, none of the apprentices wanted to approach a magical stranger.
* * *
A dazed Kelis, Rob and Abel waved the last car off, the majority having already left on the seven o’clock bus into town. The Tavern really existed now, and one hundred and thirty-four pounds in donations in a drawer in the library sort of proved it. At least four recruits were convinced they could prise serious money out of parents, though some would be for fancy dress. Petra parading her Cat-sorceress fur, Una her Robyn D’Ritche with long boots and Kelis her Glyphmistress left the male attempts like Warren’s Shayde Warrior admitting defeat. Most of those present promised to come up with something for next time. A round of boos greeted Abel’s seeming transformation, despite Ferryl claiming that magic wasn’t cheating.
“They all seemed very well behaved. A bit happier than our usual visitors, weren’t they?” All three jumped as Mrs. Ventner spoke just behind them. “That game of yours is more popular than you told me. I thought you were only experimenting.”
“We were Mum, but now I think it’s all turned serious.” Abel felt Kelis’s grip tighten. “Could we have another meeting please, in three weeks? We haven’t got anywhere else.”
“While we have the house and the money for the food, the more the merrier.”
“It’ll be cheaper next time, Mum, they’ll be bringing food. Crisps and buns, that sort of thing.”
“That is very thoughtful.” Mrs. Ventner looked puzzled. “There didn’t seem to be many in fancy dress? All four of you had one at New Year.”
Abel laughed, he had to. “There’ll be more costumes next time, after seeing the Glyphmistress.”
“Yes, I noticed that had an effect on you at New Year.” Mrs. Ventner’s voice became much more serious. “I think there will be a lot of interest from some of the young men after seeing Robyn D’Ritche and Petra as Ferryl Shayde. Perhaps it really is a good idea to have your meetings here, where I can keep an eye on you. How old were those people?”
“From fourteen to nineteen but it’s all about the game. They are all betas. The most advanced betas.” Abel had trouble getting his head round the next bit. “According to them there could be a hundred playing beta versions of the game, spread out across half the country.”
“You’d better make sure you’ve sorted out all your characters and rules in that case. If they all want to meet you’ll need a marquee on the lawn, though I will insist on no alcohol. Could I have a picture next time, please, of everyone in costume?” That came out a bit embarrassed then as all three stared at her Mrs. Ventner continued, with a definitely wicked smile, “I’d like to let a few people see a real party in that dining room.”
“Yes Mum, and you know I won’t stand for alcohol.” Kelis blushed a little. “The costumes aren’t that shocking.”
“Not the costumes, even if they are a little bit startling in real life. I meant a group of happy smiling young people, and especially sober ones. Enough about my little hang-ups, has the furniture survived?” She winked at Abel. “I hope the Glyphmistress has a cleaning up spell.”
“I have.” Kelis flourished her arms. “Clean up, slaves.”
“We hear and obey.”
“I really do have a glyph, but it would blow everything out of the room including the furniture.”
7 – Adios Amigos
Walking back past the Green after cleaning up the debris at Kelis’s house, Rob and Abel turned at a familiar voice, Dryad Chestnut. “With all those apprentices, I thought you would have dealt with the goblins.”
“What goblins?” Abel looked around because according to Ferryl, goblins were visible even to non-magical people.
“In the churchyard. They are chewing the roots of the trees there.”
“Why didn’t the dryads say?” Rob shrugged at Abel’s look.
“There’s five lovely big trees there, but the dryads kept sending me away.”
“They are church trees and not supposed to speak to the ungodly, but the church has left so they are unprotected. Now the goblins come out at night and search the grass for any sweets the human young have left. They take chances, and get there before we dare.” The last part sounded downright indignant.
“Now we know why Dryad Chestnut is annoyed.”
“More to the point, how come we’ve only ever seen one goblin? The one I squished.”
The dryad seemed amused. “Goblins hide from humans, and keep well away from glyph users. Why didn’t you clean out the churchyard at the same time as the rest of the village?”
“I’ve no idea. We never thought of it.” Abel shrugged. “We’ve always respected it as private, because there’s graves in there. Some of the churchgoers still go in there to cut grass.”
“I kept clear because churchyards won’t let me in, but it is strange one of you didn’t at least think to check.”
Abel thought one of them might have. “Rob, did you go inside the churchyard to talk to the dryads?”
“No, now I think of it. I even nipped into Mrs. Turner’s garden, next door, to get to one tree. That’s weird.” Rob turned towards the church. “Weird enough to check on right now.”
“Too true. Thank you, Dryad Chestnut. I’ll leave a few sweets here next time I come past.” Abel giggled. “Even if I’ve been answering your questions.” A creaking noise startled Abel for a moment.
“That is dryad amusement. Either that or preparation for an attack, which is why most people are cautious around dryads.” The humour in Ferryl’s voice turned to caution. “I may not be able to enter the churchyard. Even if we can, I will not try to talk to Rob in there as the spooky-phone might be attacked.”
“We’ll wait outside and send Rob and his bat in first.”
Rob grinned at that and set off, though he waited before going underneath the archway covering the gate. “I’ll wait until Ferryl has sussed it out.”