by Vance Huxley
“The lych-gate is warded, or was, but the church magic has faded. Some of those glyphs are telling us to walk by, ignore the churchyard. They probably don’t affect anyone bearing a cross. There are also remnants of something similar to the sorcerer’s barrier, just a hint that non-believers are not welcome. Passing through may irritate me but with your mark to hide behind, I will be safe.” Ferryl’s laughter echoed in Abel’s head. “This will be a new thing, after all these years. I have never been inside a churchyard.”
Abel passed that on and Rob opened the gate, waiting on the other side. For the next five minutes the three of them wandered around among the overgrown gravestones and tangled grass and small bushes. Around the back several graves were kept very neat, and the area nearby had been trimmed to keep the grass down. Rob stopped to look at the inscriptions. “Only four graves still looked after, out of the whole churchyard. It’s sort of sad.”
“If there were more, I could not come in here. The church wards, the crosses, are still working on these graves. The families must be enough to keep them working.” Ferryl sounded sombre, hushed, and almost reverent. “There is true power in prayers.”
“What was that?” Rob pointed. “I watched the faerie going past, and as I turned I’d swear that gargoyle moved!”
“That one?” Abel sent a small glowing glyph at the ugly stone creature in question, perched up on the edge of the church roof. He hoped to flush out anything hiding behind it, but instead it morphed into a goblin!
“Don’t do that! It’s dangerous.”
“It wasn’t very hot.” Abel inspected the green, fat-bellied, spindly-legged creature, then glanced around. If something that size had been nibbling roots, the ground should look as if manic badgers had been at work.
“That has not been digging. I am trying to remember how many types of goblins there are.” Ferryl sniggered. “Ask this one. The hot glyph really frightened it.” Abel remembered his lessons, goblins were very flammable.
“Sorry about the heat, I thought you were stone. Who has been chewing on tree roots?”
“I’m supposed to look like stone, because humans can see us. Why don’t you know about ratlins? Even a hedge warlock should know.” The humanoid goblin turned into a stone gargoyle again except for the mouth and eyes, this time a squatting toad-like creature.
“We are trainees. I’ve only seen one like you.” Abel skipped over squishing it. “We came here because of the tree roots.”
“Typical. We have been here forever, since soon after the church closed, and nobody noticed.” The stone head turned to glower at the rest of the churchyard. “We have been safe in here, but those greedy little rats wouldn’t listen. I told them, stick to bushes and the flower bulbs in the gardens nearby but no, they get greedy.”
If ratlins ate flower bulbs these bigger ones must take something more substantial, which worried Abel. “What do you eat? I thought magical creatures only took a little bit of real food?”
“No, I told you goblins eat more which is why they are too solid to hide. Did I tell you?” Ferryl sounded frustrated and Abel cut in before she started ranting about her wits again.
“You eat a lot, don’t you? The dryad said sweets from the Green, so what else?” Abel took a breath and calmed down a bit. The gargoyle turning into a goblin had shaken him, because the church had gargoyles all over it and several more on old graves. “I’m sorry, it’s just that I didn’t know about the turning to stone thing, otherwise I wouldn’t have used fire.”
“It is just a seeming, not real stone, which is why the fire is dangerous. This is the best way for us to hide, out in plain view but now I suppose we’ll have to move. Unless you are having a party.” The goblin didn’t seem too happy about a party.
“Why a party?”
“The stories have been passed down. Many goblins died like that, at sorcerer parties.” The creature brightened a little. “Maybe you don’t need us since fireworks became popular?”
“That’s it! Sorcerers used goblins at feasts. The guests were allowed to shoot burning arrows at them for amusement. Sometimes the goblins were hung over a flame for a while, so they would explode when hit instead of just burning. Hobgoblins could be very dangerous if they were hot enough.” Despite Ferryl sounding happy about remembering, Abel flinched at the mental picture.
“We, my friends and I, wouldn’t burn you for fun. We might not even throw you out if the ratlins leave the trees alone.” Abel got back to his original question. “What do you eat?”
“Usually what the humans leave outside at night. We can gang up to fight off the foxes, and you chased off the globhoblins so things have been a bit better this winter.” A long tongue came out and licked its mouth. “Cat food is delicious. Dogs eat all of theirs up straight away.”
“Cat food, discarded sweets and half-eaten pizzas? There isn’t very much of that in Brinsford and I can see a lot of gargoyles, so what else?” Abel started to worry, because the goblin looked definitely shifty.
“We open the big bins with discarded food inside. Humans throw away some amazing food.” The tongue slurped again. “Especially at Christmas. We don’t need mice or rats for a week or more afterwards.”
“You eat mice and rats?”
“Sometimes hoplins and thornies, but we need solid food as well as magic. We really can stay?” The creature scowled. “We can’t stop the ratlins chewing roots. They hide in tunnels.”
Abel thought about it. “Explain that if they continue, we will find a way to shift them. We’ll think about leaving you alone, the gargoyle types, though if you stay there will be rules. No litter for starters. I’d wondered about there being so much even after we chased the thornies out.”
The goblin looked shifty but didn’t deny littering. “Maybe, but we need the food from the bins. We can stay here?”
“If you pick up any litter you find when you are hunting food, stay hidden, and leave cat food alone.” Rob shrugged at Abel. “I’m not sure how much of that suggestion came to you by spooky-voice, but I’ve got the gist. I’d rather not be putting food out for Rusty just so this lot can nick it.”
“I agree about the cat food. The goblins are being very cautious because my cats have not seen them. There are many complaints about food being taken, but I thought foxes must be to blame. Goblins explains why you have no rat problem in Brinsford.” Ferryl sighed. “The goblin has been very careful to only mention ratlins and itself. How many others are there in here? Not Hobgoblins or we would see signs, but I can’t remember all of them.”
“How many sorts of goblins are in the churchyard?” The creature eyed Abel, obviously trying to decide how much to give away, so Abel killed a small fae with a fire glyph. “I wouldn’t want to hit one by mistake.”
“Just us, ratlins and batlins. We are all goblins, but humans like to give us different names. Batlins eat faeries, fae, bugs and birds. Not many birds, because the feathers can cause a blockage.” An ugly grin appeared. “A blockage can be very dangerous for goblins. We try to vent gas as quickly as possible, and away from flames.”
Abel smiled at that, he had to. “What about pixies and the other helpful creatures, do goblins eat them?” That started a proper discussion, and Abel found out the goblins encouraged pictsies to keep vermin out of the church corners where batlins couldn’t reach. Because the church had no human residents, these goblins had encouraged a small tribe of brownies to move in and keep the place dusted. As they talked, almost a score of gargoyles turned into little pot-bellied humanoids and came to join in. Some of the other gargoyles opened their eyes to watch, not always easy to spot as darkness closed in.
Eventually Rob pointed out they’d better get home, though even then a dozen hopeful goblins followed to the gate. Abel hoped the ratlins saw sense, because these creatures seemed fairly harmless and would keep the nastier pests out of the churchyard. Rob wanted one for his garden as a stone ornament, and even promised to leave table scraps near it. On the way home the pair of them
composed a long text for Kelis to explain. Her answer didn’t take much typing. “Not fair. I want to see!”
* * *
It wasn’t goblins that excited Kelis the next morning. “Mum wants a real party at the next Tavern meeting, a birthday party, a double if you don’t mind.” She squeezed Abel’s hand. “My birthday is on the Sunday anyway and yours is only ten days earlier, the day we break up for half-term. Would you mind? I’ve never had a real party with people I know, friends.”
“Families as well? Because Melanie is really pushing to come to Tavern meetings and if she sees the wards she’ll know why I’ve been stalling.” Rob sighed. “She gave me hell about the last one, and I’ve no excuse for her not coming because she knows Kelis and also plays the game.” A little smile touched Rob’s lips. “What about your mum, Abel?”
“Mum will probably want to come, if only to help Kelis’s mum out.” Abel grinned. “She’ll steal the marzipan from the cake.”
“I’ll steal the cake if your mum brings one.” Rob made a big production of licking his lips. “Two birthday cakes? Forget the party, just leave me in a quiet corner with the confectionery.”
“A birthday cake? I never thought of that. He never let me have one. Will your Mum bake one, please?” Kelis danced in a circle. “I’ll give her all the ingredients. Or I could try, with fire glyphs?”
“Do you all like cinder cake?”
Even Kelis didn’t fancy that, so Abel would ask his mum to bake Kelis a birthday cake. He hoped she’d say yes, because usually Abel and his mum ate the rest of the Christmas cake for his birthday. “Sixteen candles of course, though I’m not sure Mum’s got thirty-two for two cakes.”
“We can keep enough ratlins to make up the numbers? For Abel’s cake of course, because he’s gross already.” Rob cowered. “Hey, no fair. How come both of you are hitting me?”
“Because you mentioned burning ratlins on a cake? Yeuk.” Kelis smiled happily. “Though you two will be taking me to see goblins today, or there will be real trouble. Do they need treats, like a dryad?”
“Don’t start that or you’ll be shipping in pizzas by the vanload. There are a lot of them.” Rob frowned. “I’ve no idea how many, or how many ratlins or batlins. What on earth does a batlin look like?”
“Or a ratlin. A goblin crossed with a bat or rat? They must be called that for a reason.” Though Abel agreed after a short argument that wasn’t necessarily true. It wasn’t until later Abel realised Ferryl had kept quiet. He asked her once they were alone and Ferryl seemed very down. She couldn’t taste cake, and couldn’t remember batlins or ratlins, and felt useless. Eventually Abel managed to get her cheered up, and even attempting animated tattoo versions of a possible batlin or ratlin.
* * *
The Taverners met a batlin straight after dinner, because Kelis wanted plenty of time to ask questions. Batlins were goblins, little fat-bellied green humanoids, until they opened their wings. Kelis thought they looked like cartoon bats, a jolly joke demon or vampire with really bony and leathery wings. Even Ferryl agreed she might have seen them and thought they were bats, if the creatures flew about in the darkness. The batlins weren’t really conversationalists, being more worried about staying in the church tower. Once they’d agreed to Kelis’s demand to leave butterflies, finches and robins alone, the three who’d agreed to talk flew back into a hole in the boarding over the church window. The original goblin, or maybe another, reported that they’d passed the message to the ratlins but none of the burrowers had answered. Abel repeated that they’d got until Saturday, one week.
Abel’s mum agreed that a birthday party with the Taverners would be a great way to celebrate, especially if she got to meet them all. Abel confessed they could all see magical creatures, and were learning to deal with it without therapy or counselling. “Chris will realise how they all deal with it when she sees their wards. Some are not at all shy about showing their marks. Chris will see the creatures avoid Jessica, and the two will talk and maybe wonder how you deal with creatures.”
“I’m not risking sending my mum or Kelis’s crackers.”
“What about Rob’s sisters? They may want to play the game when they meet Taverners their own age. Samantha will like the fancy dress.”
“Stop it. This is all getting out of hand. We’ve got to slow it down somehow.” Abel thought hard. “We’ve got to get a board game out there, one with dice so people concentrate on that instead of floating leaves.”
“In that case you had better get it all completed before the meeting. If I understood properly, Shawn and Eric are both old enough to get the legal part organised. Perhaps you should concentrate on that instead of your bound woman.”
“Kelis isn’t bound, or my woman!” Abel really hoped the first bit was true. He resorted to his last defence. “It’s not serious. We’re only fifteen.”
“Until the party. After that, is Kelis a girl or a woman? Break the link.”
“If Kelis agrees.” When Ferryl didn’t answer, Abel took a deep breath. “I’ll ask after the party.”
“If you say so.”
* * *
During the week an undercurrent of excitement ran through school with those in the know exchanging looks and smiles. As a big plus magical creatures were more or less banished inside the buildings, and now it would take a major offensive by the cleaners to remove the plethora of hexes. Despite the amount of homework the phones were busy at night, though most investigation had to wait for the weekend.
On Saturday morning Abel talked his mum into taking him into town, where he bought a Valentine’s card, a proper one. He looked at it for a long time when he came home, really worried. It was big and covered in hearts and flowers, nothing like he would have dreamt of getting mere weeks ago. “This is getting serious.”
“You could block the connection?”
“Can I? Are you sure it’s the connection?” Abel sighed. “I think it’s growing stronger. I’m too young for this. Kelis is too young.” He sighed again. “Though we are both too old for me to risk this being just the mark.”
“So you’ll really ask her this time? If she burns in her own ward, and I burn out this connection, that will stop any leakage either way.”
“Maybe.”
“Which means you won’t really mean it, and the connection may not be broken. Why can you not understand? If that Wolf Shade had taken you, Kelis would have been taken as well.” Abel didn’t answer. “Worse, if it had taken her first because she wasn’t protected properly I could not have defended you, or myself.”
With that card in front of him Ferryl’s warning seemed more certain, more serious this time, and Abel firmed up. “I’ll ask tonight.”
“Stop worrying. You might still want to give her the card afterwards.”
“But Kelis might not want it.” Which would prove he’d been influencing her, which Abel didn’t want to think about. “Keep quiet until we’ve been to see the goblins. Kelis may as well have some fun this afternoon.”
* * *
When Abel led Kelis and Rob into the churchyard he knew there must be a problem. The church had hardly any gargoyles which meant a lot of goblins must be hiding. “Come and talk to us, goblins. We will not burn you. All we want is an answer.”
A round, bald green head peered out from behind a gravestone. “What if you don’t like the answer?”
“From the ratlins? That’s not your fault.” Kelis sniggered. “It might be bad for the ratlins. Abel told me they eat flower bulbs and I really like daffodils and tulips.”
“You can’t get to them.” The goblin came further out from behind its gravestone. “The ratlins say you cannot reach them in their burrows.”
“I can explain their mistake.”
“Please ask one to speak to us, or show us a ratlin hole.” The goblin didn’t answer, just thought a moment then beckoned and headed off between the overgrown graves.
“I’m not going to be in a good mood after scrambling through those creepe
rs.” Kelis started forward but Rob jumped in front.
“This is what a barbarian is for.” He used his penknife to cut a long thin branch from an elder bush and started beating a path. “I hope that goblin waits.”
The goblin did, or at least it came back for them several times before pointing to a neat round hole in the ground near the churchyard wall. “This is a ratlin hole. I have called, but they will not answer.” The goblin shrugged. “The holes are all connected and they don’t come out very often.”
“Just to dump litter.” Torn crisp packets and other bits of rubbish surrounded the hole. Abel, Kelis and Rob waited, but eventually Ferryl had waited long enough.
“We should send a message. No goblin likes heat, so perhaps a small heat glyph blowing through their tunnels will get a ratlin’s attention?” Ferryl waited as Abel suggested that and the other two agreed. “If I could use your right hand, please? Drop a small heat glyph into the hole, and I will catch it in a small puff of wind.” Abel did as asked, and the glyph dropped to the entrance then suddenly shot inside.
Within a minute a small, green, muddy and very annoyed face peered out of the hole. “Fire is dangerous!”
“You didn’t answer. That wasn’t hot enough to harm you.” Abel let that sink in for a moment. “We want to talk to you.”
“Apprentices? We have nothing to say. We like it here and you cannot move us.” The little face, thinner than the other goblins, bared a row of little sharp teeth in a grin. “If you use fire that will burn the tree roots. That one there has been asking the dryads for help so you will not do that. They would never speak to you again.”
“The dryads are not speaking to Rob now, nor are they helping. Even if the other dryads are upset, the one we rescued will send out seedlings eventually. They will show the rest we can be trusted.”
Ferryl couldn’t pass that on by spooky-phone, not in the churchyard, but Rob agreed with her once Abel explained. “I know whose idea that is. The church trees are useless to us anyway.”