by Vance Huxley
“Jenny, are you….? What are you doing here?” Abel shook his head, fighting to gather his wits because that sounded like Henry!
“What is it?” Seraph’s voice this time. Abel groaned and rolled onto his hands and knees, turning his head to look at Seraph’s pointing finger as she continued. “Why is there blood on his mouth? All over him?”
Unfortunately Henry had an obvious answer to that. “The pervert must have tried it on with Jenny. She’s covered in blood. Luckily she must have knocked the little wimp down. I should….”
“Oh no, Henry. We’ll let Jenny deal with this, or the law at least. Come on, let’s see how poor Jenny is.” Seraph turned away.
“But you just told Jenny…” Henry’s voice faded and Abel used the wall to clamber to his feet. His legs were wobbly and he felt as weak as the proverbial kitten.
“Ferryl, what happened? Did you save her?” Total silence answered. “I’ll use the Pung name. Answer me, Ferryl.” Still nothing, and his tattoo didn’t move. Worse, it felt empty, like when she flew off. But why fly off when Henry might have…? Abel finally connected the dots, Ferryl had taken Jenny over. She’d possessed Jenny, and Abel had helped! He groaned, and straightened.
Abel looked round but except for voices round the corner the only sign of life was the bloodstains on the concrete. He staggered to the corner and stared at the back of the driver, two workmen and a teacher arguing about the crashed lorry and the planks strewn all about. There didn’t seem to be enough blood, but he hadn’t really stopped to inspect it at the time. Abel scooped up his schoolbag and limped past behind the arguing group, wondering where he’d banged his knee.
Abel staggered onto the bus before it left and made his way to his seat trying to hide the blood. From the way Kelis stared at his face, the quick wipe with his sleeve hadn’t been enough. “What happened? Ferryl, tell us, please.”
Abel leaned in close to whisper and Kelis flinched away. “She’s gone.”
At least Kelis kept her voice down. “Who? Ferryl? Will she be able to catch up with the bus, because we’re off any second.” Sure enough, the driver started the engine. “Is that your blood? Are you hurt?”
“No. Yes, I’m hurt but not much and not blood. That’s Jenny’s blood.”
“Jenny’s? On your face and,” Kelis and Rob both inspected him, “all over you.” Kelis’s voice hardened. “How did you get her blood all over you, and where is she?”
“Maybe in hospital. There was an accident. Ferryl has gone.” Abel stopped and took a deep breath, then tried again. It didn’t help that anyone close tried to eavesdrop, and the rest were staring at the blood all over him and now the bus seat. He settled for a very quiet “Ferryl got me to pick her up and used my breath to move over into Jenny. She’s supposed to heal her.”
“You kissed her, Jenny? You got blood on your face kissing her?” Rob screwed up his face in disgust, then glanced round to make sure nobody had heard.
“Ferryl took over. By the time she’d gone, I’d more or less passed out.” Abel glared at those leaning closer. “Later, when we get off.” He turned towards the window, scrubbing at his face again.
* * *
Kelis had been thinking on the way, because as soon as they were walking up the lane she rounded on Abel. “What was the deal? How were you supposed to supply a body for Ferryl? I thought she meant body, dead, not someone alive! Does that mean she just grabbed the nearest available when she felt like it?” Kelis stopped, her face ashen. “Does that mean Jenny’s dead?”
“I don’t think so. Jenny stood up and I saw her arm un-break itself, then she limped off on what should be a crushed foot.” Abel shook his head. “I wish I knew what it meant, Ferryl going into her. If she’s still Jenny she’ll remember me picking her up and carting her off.” Abel paused, wondering just how much would be Jenny, and what she’d think of what happened.
“Then trying to kiss her. If Ferryl’s really taken over she’ll explain. Something.” Kelis shook her head. “I have no idea what explanation covers this.” She sighed and passed Abel a tissue. “Clean your face properly. Did Jenny actually die, stop breathing?”
Abel hesitated, then plunged on. “Not unless she died right then. You didn’t see her Kelis. Blood from her mouth and the side of her head, and her clothes were torn and the bloodstains were spreading as I watched. Her arm bent all wrong and flopping about with blood coming out, and her foot. Her foot had been crushed. Not broken, I mean gone, mashed into her shoe.” Abel stopped and hung his head, hands over his eyes. “Even if she’d lived, she’d have been crippled. No more athletics, gymnastics or Acro. I wish I could forget that, her foot. And her eyes, Kelis, she knew.”
“Knew what? You’d sold her body?”
Abel winced from Kelis’s cutting tone. “No, Ferryl connected, spoke in her head, and Jenny’s eyes opened. Pain and pleading, I swear she wanted saving.”
“Or she was pleading for you to stop Ferryl, you bloody moron.” Rob scowled. “How come you never asked, about taking a body?”
“It just never came up, what with everything else. Neither of you asked.” That sounded feeble even to Abel and sure enough…
“Because we assumed you knew! Though now I think about it you’re right. We just accepted the whole thing, magic and Ferryl. I thought it was because of the game, but maybe she bewitched us?” Kelis sighed. “You are an utter and complete idiot, Abel Conroy. If Ferryl is in charge, you’ll get away with the blood and the rest. If not? At least you’ll know before school starts again because plod will be beating down the door.”
“Thanks. I knew you’d cheer me up.” Abel didn’t even try to hide the sarcasm.
“Well ten years for molesting a road traffic victim might be better than what Jenny got.” Kelis stopped and almost whispered the next question. “How old is Ferryl, Abel?”
“Hundreds of years, she came here with the Danes and speaks Latin and Greek.” Abel shrugged at the two stares. “How do you think I did so well at the holiday project?”
Kelis barely scowled at him beating her by cheating. “So how many years will Jenny or her body be trotting about with a passenger? Hundreds? A thousand? Until the body finally conks out?”
“Twenty years!” Abel finally smiled. “I remember, Ferryl told me. She usually offers to cure a fatal illness in return for twenty years, and promises to leave the body in top condition. That means Jenny can’t be dead.” His shoulders slumped. “I turned it down, and the gold.” Abel skipped the women under the circumstances.
Though Kelis wasn’t letting go. “Why, apart from you not having a fatal disease? What’s the big catch?”
“Grand theft schoolgirl. Ferryl will be the driver, not the passenger. I had to negotiate to get Ferryl as a rider without reins or spurs. Ow.” Abel turned to glare at Rob, rubbing his shoulder.
“You deserve that at least. Jenny has to watch someone else driving her about for twenty years?” Rob shook his head.
“That or wake up in twenty years. She’ll be thirty-six, with no idea what Ferryl’s done with her. You stupid idiot.” Kelis thumped Abel on the other arm.
Abel gave up trying to rub both arms. “Better than dead.”
“We’ll have to wait twenty years to ask Jenny that.” Kelis looked at Abel’s arm, the one with the tattoo. “She’s really gone, Ferryl?
“Yes, the tattoo feels empty, more so than when she used to fly. Maybe it isn’t there, and then I’ll have to get one done or Mum really will ask questions.” Abel sighed. “I feel tired, drained.”
“Drained? Has your magic gone with her?” Kelis flexed her hand and a small wind glyph picked up a few leaves. “Try.”
Abel tried, and couldn’t even rustle them. “I’ve got no magic left.” He tried again but couldn’t feel the familiar flowing sensation. “It’s all gone, Ferryl stitched me.” He groaned, his head going down again as that sank in. “Oh great. The mighty sorcerer, watch him wave his hands. Looks like protecting Brinsford and training the Ta
verners is up to you two. I’ll fetch the tea.”
“Maybe not totally stitched. You still know how to do magic.” Rob pointed back towards Castle House. “Steal some magic from a tree, as a dryad would put it. If that works, Ferryl just used a lot saving Jenny.”
“But definitely stitched anyway. She’s supposed to be protecting you for another eighty nine years.” Kelis looked around. “Nope, no magic guardian. We’ll come with you, since your bodyguard has run off.”
Even when the tree magic flooded in and he could work glyphs, Abel still felt completely flat. All he wanted to do was sleep so he limped off home, begging off a Tavern meeting tonight. He felt depressed, let down, abandoned, deserted, cast off like a worn shirt. Ferryl had taken the first chance to leave despite all the fine words about training and ninety years protection. Maybe it shouldn’t have hurt so much, but he’d trusted her and betrayal cut him to the quick. Abel really didn’t fancy school in five days. Even if Jenny recovered he’d have to watch her bouncing around with the Acros, while he knew who she was and couldn’t say a word. Where did that leave the Tavern? Could they survive without their only real sorceress and how did he explain where she’d gone?
* * *
Abel begged off the Tavern meeting with Kelis and Rob the next day, claiming a badly wrenched knee. It hurt, but he hurt more inside. First Kelis, then Ferryl. His tattoo mocked him, flat and dead looking though he’d expected it to disappear with her. At least he’d been spared having it really tattooed on, but somehow that didn’t seem like a plus. Abel’s flower wasn’t the same either, now he’d lost the link to Kelis. He could still feel his magic, but never the tingles he’d got so used to.
Rob calling round to tell him the other Taverners wanted to know what had happened didn’t help. “There are some very strange questions, Abel. Seraph hasn’t wasted any time. At least half the calls I’ve got have heard some version of you assaulting Jenny, either after her accident or you injured her.”
“I didn’t assault her!”
“You walked across the yard and got on the bus looking like Freddy Krueger, covered in her blood. Since I’ve no idea what sort of injuries Jenny has now, if any, neither me nor Kelis can reassure anyone.” Rob threw up his hands in exasperation. “You could at least answer calls and emails. That’s not exactly helping, is it?”
“Yeah right. I’ll tell them the last I saw she’d started dying, just before I kissed her and she walked off.” Abel sighed and sat on his bed. “Forget it Rob. It’s not your problem, or Kelis’s. It’s a good job Kelis got rid of me.”
“You can’t let Seraph spread her lies! You’ve got to at least speak to people, Abel.”
“No I haven’t.” Abel waved towards his phone and laptop, both turned off. “See? They’ll all believe what they want so sod ‘em. You and Kelis sort out the Tavern. You’re both better than me anyway.”
“No we aren’t. Your magic is way ahead of ours.”
“Not without a magical tattoo to help. You’ve learned properly so you two take on the Tavern. I’ll just wait and see what happens.” Abel turned his back, lying down on his bed. “I’m going to sleep now. Maybe when I wake up it’ll all be over, or plod will have arrived and I’ll know the worst.”
“You selfish…. All right, if that’s how you feel. I’ll let Kelis know since you haven’t got the decency to even answer her calls.” Rob waited, then stormed out when Abel didn’t answer.
* * *
When even his mum started to ask what the problem was, why he didn’t go to the Tavern, and had he fallen out with Kelis, Abel hid away from her as well. At least in Castle House gardens only two people could reach him, and Abel took care to avoid the cave and stone slab. He didn’t fancy sitting there anyway, remembering Ferryl Shayde promising to help and protect him. For the first time he really considered her name, and what it might mean. She wasn’t a Shade, he didn’t think, though maybe that shimmering meant a ghost? He’d never truly asked, and now he’d never know. Even now, Abel didn’t want to think too hard about Ferryl maybe meaning feral. A Feral Shade sounded really nasty, and he’d put it into a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl.
The third day of the holiday Abel plodded along the edge of the field and wood at the rear of Castle House, to avoid the road and any villagers. Abel turned into the wood, avoiding the stretch with the dryad or the creature would want to talk. He paid absolutely no attention to anything else, still churning his own problems over and over in his mind, until a familiar voice interrupted.
“Hello squeak. I’ve been watching and your friends aren’t around, are they? Did they finally get sick of you?” Henry came out from behind a big tree inside the wood and while Abel tried to work out how he’d overcome the barrier, strolled forward. “Seraph said leave it for the police, but I reckon you’ve earned a bit of real pain first.”
Abel raised a hand. “Don’t do it Henry. I’m not in the mood.”
“That won’t work. I’ve got a defence against. Against.” Henry frowned. “Whatever that is.” Abel threw the glyph, a tight air one at Henry’s leg but the youth walked straight through it! While Abel tried to come to terms with that Henry threw a punch. Abel tried to avoid it, but Henry’s fist hit his shoulder like a club, spinning him round. Abel tottered, trying to keep his feet and Henry swung again. Abel went down, rolling away from a kick and firing off a really hard, concentrated wind glyph that had no effect at all. He scrambled away as fast as possible and stood, rubbing his shoulder.
“Defence against what, Henry? Who gave you it? Seraph?”
“Not her, she doesn’t know about, about, this stuff. Stuff against waggy finger. I’m going to stomp you, then I get.” Henry paused, his face screwed up in concentration before it suddenly cleared. “Everything! I get everything. Claris said so. She drew this.” Henry pulled his shirt open to show a glyph painted across his chest. Abel didn’t hold back with his glyph this time, but Henry didn’t even stagger when the hammer of wind hit. He closed quickly and Abel moved away, favouring his bad knee. Running wouldn’t work, injured like this.
“Back off now Henry, or the gloves are off. I mean it.” Henry threw a branch and Abel knocked it aside with wind. His magic worked, but not on Henry. Abel fired two tight glyphs at the ground right under Henry’s toes, and the burly youth staggered but recovered and ran forward. Abel tried a trap, like those in the bushes behind the house but Henry snapped it and lashed out.
Abel got an arm in the way, staggering back again before using growth glyphs, the ones for making grass grow. He poured them into the brambles under Henry’s feet and the plants writhed up out of the ground in a thigh-high thicket. “Smartarse.” Henry tore and kicked, ripping the briars and creepers apart though the thorns cut deep gashes in his hands. “You can’t keep it up for ever.” Abel couldn’t but how did Henry know? Abel hurled a succession of tight, hard glyphs at Henry’s legs, head and torso, without effect. He ducked one thrown branch, but another hit his bad knee and pain lanced through him. Henry pounced forward, then ducked and put up a hand to avoid a dead branch coming from off to one side. A storm of twigs arrived next and Abel saw blood trickling down Henry’s face.
Abel glanced over in time to see the dryad hide behind a tree. He cudgelled his brain, fighting the lethargy that had smothered him since Ferryl left. Non-magic hurt Henry, but he wasn’t strong enough to fight Henry like that. Abel threw glyphs at the ground again, digging deep but this time Henry strode over the hole. Henry leapt forward, and Abel stumbled, once more taking the punch on his arm but again he went down. He put both hands down flat and blew himself up and back as Henry’s foot swung, sort of flying clear.
“Getting tired already, squeak? You aren’t so bloody cocky now, are you?” Henry kicked a small branch aside and clenched both fists. “I’m gonna beat you senseless, then, then…” Henry hesitated a moment, looking confused, then his face cleared again. “I’m gonna beat you senseless.” Abel struggled to his feet again, pain finally getting through the lethargy so he c
ould think. He had to slow Henry but couldn’t manage a stronger trap because his magic levels were already dropping. He’d put too much into some of those wind glyphs and the growth ones.
Abel glanced back and there were several large trees he could use, but his strongest glyphs weren’t working anyway. Though Henry had to kick to break the magical trap, so it had an effect. A smile, or maybe a snarl, showed briefly on Abel’s face. He knew where to get more magic than any human could hold. Some last shred of common sense tried to avoid blood and possibly bodies, because Abel didn’t have a Ferryl to tell him if this would be safe. “Last chance Henry. I really mean it.”
“Last chance for you. Then I’ve got to visit Kelis to explain what a big mistake she made, threatening me!” Henry picked up another branch and swung it like a club but Abel used wind to blow up a blinding wall of leaves and twigs. Abel used the wind to push himself backwards, then blew up another storm of twigs and leaves. With Henry unsighted, Abel picked up a thin branch, running magic down it to draw a large magical trap on the ground around him. A very weak one, because his levels really were down. Abel moved back, blowing more leaf litter and using the moments when Henry couldn’t see to draw a connecting line from the circle. He glanced back, then repeated the procedure with a couple of tiny fire glyphs at Henry’s eyes.
The fire glyphs had no effect except causing Henry to duck, blink and shout “More tricks, squeak? None of them work now.” Henry concentrated and started wading through the leafy assault with a snarl on his lips.
The delay gave Abel chance to reach a huge beech tree. “My apologies tree, but I really need this.” Abel cut the glyph deep, wishing he had time to grab some magic himself, but Henry had just stepped into the circle.
Even the leakage as Abel connected the tree to the circle gave him a lift. It raised a howl of frustration from Henry, because he couldn’t get out! A simple garden trap, but powered by a whole tree! Henry battered at the invisible barrier, tried to go back, and then tried to throw a branch. That flew through because it had no magic and Henry stopped, staring. Abel moved forward. “If you want to use this fancy stuff, Henry, there’s tricks to deal with it. Now calm down and tell me who really gave you the glyph.” Abel felt sure it hadn’t been Claris.