by Vance Huxley
“Hello. I am Abel. What is your name?”
“I have a name?” Her voice in his head sounded light and, corny as that seemed, airy.
“You can have, if you like.”
“What sort of name?”
“Something that suits you, like Zephyr.”
“My name is Zephyr?”
“That’s just the first thing I thought of. It’s a gentle gust of wind. You can change it?”
“No, I like it. After all, I was a gust of wind before. Now I am a Zephyr. Wind with a name.” She sounded a bit overwhelmed, or almost drunk. “Thinking wind.”
Abel noticed Ferryl/Jenny watching his face with a little smile on her lips. “Can you connect me to Ferryl Shayde please?”
“Connect?”
“Spooky-phone?”
“Oh, yes.” The familiar thin ephemeral line, invisible to anyone who couldn’t see magic, stretched to Ferryl/Jenny’s sleeve.
“Hi Ferryl.”
Ferryl/Jenny took his hand and answered inside Abel’s head. “Spooky-phone as requested. Though you will have to answer any questions from others instead of me. The creature will copy my mental voice if you wish.”
“Her name is Zephyr.”
“A name already? May I speak to her, please?”
“Can’t you do that anyway?”
Ferryl’s voice had a little laugh in it. “She is your servant so I am being polite. I told her not to talk without your permission.”
“That could be awkward, because I have to subvocalize to talk to the tattoo.” Talking to Ferryl like that had been a problem sometimes. “If someone asks something and I tell my tattoo the answer, they’ll see my lips move.”
“Zephyr is a servant, not a rider such as I. She is more closely connected in some ways, less independent. She can take instruction without speech, but only from you, though she can talk to others through the connection.”
Abel settled down to find out more. He could talk to Zephyr, and hear her, completely silently. She could talk to others through the spooky-phone but couldn’t hear a reply, though if they held hands Abel could hear Ferryl anyway. Abel set into finding out just what Zephyr was. A puff of wind, apparently, given magic and sentience and therefore alive.
According to Ferryl any gust of wind, ripple of water or flicker of flame might pick up enough magic to persist, briefly. If that magic was the decaying remnant of a dead creature it created a Free Spirit, the unthinking and usually short-lived amoeba of the magic world, completely defenceless and the favoured prey of some small fae. Very rarely a Free Spirit absorbed more magic as it drifted here and there and if it survived long enough might grow to become a Feral Spirit. Those felt hunger, seeking out the stray magic leaking from non-magical beings to keep growing. Gradually any who survived long enough, the rarest of Feral Spirits, learned to deliberately take magic from fish eggs or tiny insects. Over many years, possibly centuries, such Feral Spirits could become dangerous enough to kill larger prey for the magic. Even those few were still ephemeral in nature, with few defences, so any magic user or predatory creature might snap them up for their magic.
Zephyr had been taken right through to the last, almost unheard-of stage, self-awareness and truly logical thinking. She understood responsibility and consequences. Abel’s magic gave her life and strength while Ferryl had given her purpose, knowledge and then the means to use it. Once the wind became a thinking being, Ferryl knew Abel would not accept binding her. She offered the Spirit the alternatives of freedom to fly away, hoping to survive, or living in the tattoo. The tattoo provided a safe haven and a constant supply of magic while she learned about the world. The price was servitude to Abel, for ninety years or until he chose to let her go.
Abel wasn’t keen on the ninety years, but as Ferryl pointed out Zephyr might live for a thousand years after that and every day with Abel increased her chances. After ninety years she would know many glyphs, and understand the dangers much better than she did now. More to the point, from Ferryl’s point of view, Abel would be strong enough to not need a watchdog. With Ferryl/Jenny living six miles away, she worried about him being unprotected if another sorceress or Aryadne’s Hound turned up.
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Abel sat thinking it all through for a little while, getting used to the idea they’d just created a living, thinking being. He waited too long. Just as he opened his mouth to ask about the thing inside Henry, the blood-bag according to the dryad, Abel heard someone calling his name. “Come on, someone has missed us.”
As they stood up, Ferryl/Jenny turned and put her arms round him. “At least they’re not teachers.” Abel barely had time to register the three people looking for him when her lips connected.
“Anyone of a delicate disposition avert your eyes. Now we know why they were missing so long.” Abel recognised Shawn, a nineteen-year-old beta drawn into the Tavern by a friend.
Ferryl/Jenny hung onto Abel long enough for everyone to turn and see them, long enough for Abel to use his new spooky-phone. “Why are you insisting on this kissing thing?”
“Because you have to act as if Jenny is your girlfriend. More important, you have to forget what kissing felt like through the magical link to Kelis. Pick another girl for that if you wish, though it would be difficult explaining why I still visit and hold hands.” Ferryl/Jenny pulled away from Abel with a blush starting on her cheeks. “Hi Shawn. I just wanted to get Abel somewhere private for a few minutes. We don’t get the chance very often.” “Now nobody will wonder what else we might have been doing out here.”
Abel started blushing even though he knew Ferryl meant magic. As two small glyphs floated up from Ferryl, one to each camera, Shawn winked and lowered his voice. “Sorry but we all wanted to talk to you. If I’d known why you were missing I would have waited a bit longer.”
Abel had almost stopped blushing by the time they got indoors, right up until he saw Kelis. She looked from Abel to Ferryl/Jenny and he blushed again, then remembered he could tell her now. Abel concentrated. “Zephyr, spooky-phone to Kelis. Tell her we needed privacy to create you but don’t say who you are, not yet.” Kelis watched the little wisp grow towards her, spotted the one to Ferryl/Jenny, and started nodding before it connected. Abel rode out various comments about dragging Jenny off into the bushes, while Jenny denied any such thing while giving everyone the impression it was the truth.
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The next six hours were possibly the most confusing of Abel’s life, not least because he had to keep pretending that Zephyr was Ferryl Shayde. If anyone else found out Ferryl had possessed a human, they might be worried enough to talk to a priest or a parent. Abel also stayed on edge until Zephyr had told all the magical Taverners who they shouldn’t discuss magic with. Melanie and Diane in particular were quizzing every player about their favourite character and magic symbol.
By the end of the party both the fourteen-year-olds had finally been side-tracked by one of their classmates. Fourteen-year-old Rachel knew how to form glyphs and had her own ward, but didn’t enjoy playing the Tavern game with older teenagers. She already knew of two non-magical game players her age, and now recruited Rob’s and Jenny’s sisters to create their own Tavern. They could play over Skype, with Rachel promising Abel she would try and stop the others activating magic until they were older. That might be difficult. Diane had already scrounged a proper copy of the rules from someone at school so she would be practicing the meditation and trying to float a leaf.
Rob’s older sister, Samantha, seemed more interested in the older male players and the costumes some of the girls wore. She wasn’t so interested in the game itself, other than asking who some of the more obscure characters were. Petra wore her Ferryl Shayde fur catsuit with leather shorts and Una her Robin D’Ritche mercenary kit with high boots and a plastic sword, but this time they had competition. There were even male and female versions of St. Georgeous the paladin varying from full armour, tinfoil over plywood, to one wearing some metal, silver hot pants and what
might be net curtaining over the rest. Rob christened one lass, a Barbarian, Lovingly Sculpted instead of the generic Barbarian name, Roughly Hewn. Abel had to suffer some teasing, because without Ferryl to disguise him with magic he had no costume at all.
As she’d promised Mrs. Ventner took a lot of photos, especially of a selection of the better male costumes posing with Kelis. Kelis wore her robe, and had her hair and makeup fixed again for the occasion so she looked the part. Once her mum went back to the lounge, the sorceress K’liss Windcatcher enchanted several boys to collect her birthday kisses. The extravagant gestures as she allegedly ensnared them might not have been strictly necessary, but kept everyone amused.
Several people wanted to know if Abel had enchanted Jenny, or did a leotard work the same as a glyph? According to Jenny she’d never suspected a thing until pow, she’d suddenly found herself captured. From her comments about collapsing again as often as possible for another kiss of life, Abel wasn’t wriggling out of the boyfriend thing any time soon. Luckily the sheer number of Tavern members, twenty-eight this time, kept Abel too busy answering questions for Ferryl/Jenny to push her kissing agenda.
Many of the magic users didn’t see each other out of school, or only met over Skype. Now they all wanted to compare their progress or learn new glyphs. Abel really hoped the occasional floating sausage rolls or tiny sparks weren’t noticed by the wrong person.
At least the parents stayed in the lounge with the buffet, just circulating now and then to remind everyone they were there. As the evening drew on a small number of teenagers began to hint or downright ask for a proper meeting, somewhere they could talk freely. Some wanted to burn in their protection wards while others had news about protecting the Tavern game, legally. That led to a small meeting in the library, Bonny’s Tavern, between Rob, Kelis, Ferryl/Jenny and Abel.
Seven Taverners wanted to burn in a tattoo but there wasn’t anyone to check they’d done it properly and hadn’t left a weakness. Ferryl’s shimmery form had watched over the previous batch, but now she couldn’t leave her host’s body. If any of the other three watched a Taverner ward themselves, Ferryl warned it could lead to an accidental binding. Worse, when Ferryl tried to explain what to look for, none of the three teenagers could see the magic flows to tell if the warding had worked.
But Zephyr could, though Ferryl advised caution. The puff of animated wind might not understand so soon after her creation. Rob looked at Abel’s tattoo. “Can she fly about like Ferryl, or like Ferryl could? If not, she can’t watch anyway.” Abel concentrated and asked Zephyr.
“May I? Thank you.” Ferryl must have taught manners. A moment later a shimmery shape flowed out into the air and hovered, though a spooky-phone stayed connected to Abel. “What should I do now?” Abel had no idea, but Ferryl/Jenny took over. After a few moments she told the rest that Zephyr seemed to be much more aware than expected.
Ferryl/Jenny explained magic flows to Zephyr, then how they should look using the wards on all four of those present as examples. Ferryl/Jenny turned away so the others wouldn’t see Zephyr inspect hers, pointing out it had to be hidden by a leotard for Acro dancing. Even after all the explaining, Rob, Kelis and Abel still couldn’t see the magic flows.
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The placing of wards went well with Rob and Kelis giving each candidate ice and a wad of tissues to bite on. A warded Taverner warned each one about the magical burn, hot pain rather than blistered flesh. Forewarned, each youngster had brought a unique design and decided on a location they could touch through clothes while in public. One after another the candidates imagined their drawing, placed a finger on the spot, and magically burned the tattoo into skin and bone. Zephyr supervised, maintaining spooky-phone contact with Abel to give everyone privacy. As they saw others survive the experience, four more decided to have wards burned in making eleven in total.
While a group of Taverners congratulated the last white-faced teenager on her new tattoo, spooky-phone connected Abel with Ferryl/Jenny, Rob and Kelis. “Time for the meeting, a serious one with the likes of Shannon and Shawn, about the future of the game.”
“Not until I tell Melanie and Diane it’s private, or they’ll try to break in.” Rob nodded towards where the two in question were heading his way with curious faces. He smirked at Abel. “That or Diane will be telling her dad how often you snuck off with Jenny.” Rob had found a new game, making Abel blush, and it worked again.
Though Abel had an answer, through spooky-phone. “That’s another meeting. I’ve got to sort out the Jenny thing, as opposed to Ferryl.”
Kelis nodded understanding, then turned towards the lounge. “I’d better tell the parents we’re dealing with Tavern business, or they’ll wonder why we keep shutting ourselves away at our own party. I wouldn’t want to be accused of enchanting Rob and dragging him off.”
Abel already knew who to invite for serious Tavern business. Sarah came as a last-minute addition because she had news about the possible adult warlock in town. “We really must deal with the man in the park near my house. It’s the only reason I’m in here for this meeting.” Sarah looked a little embarrassed but determined. “I’m getting really worried because he’s noticed me, maybe because the creatures leave me alone. I can’t avoid the park, not completely, so I walk along the road next to it but he watches me go past. What do I say if he tries to talk to me?”
“Go away or I’ll scream?” Shannon shrugged. “It’s what mom told me to do if a strange man accosted me.”
Prompted by Ferryl’s mental voice, Abel got back to the real problem. “Do the creatures still crawl on him? If so he’s not a sorcerer, or even a warlock.”
“Yes, but he brushes them off so he can definitely see them. The dryad knows I can see it, though it’s stopped hiding because I never go near. The man is definitely throwing sweets to it. I saw him taking off wrappers.” Sarah smirked. “I’ve already got a small pot of honey for when we get in contact.” She firmed her shoulders. “I’m still only on wind glyphs, so I want someone a bit better at magic to back me up. You said you could organise something.”
“Is he there at weekends?” Sarah nodded so Eric turned to Abel.
He shrugged helplessly. “I’ve no transport.”
“I’ve got a car, sort of? The little blue hatchback I came in.” Shannon waved a set of keys. “I finally passed my test so mum lets me borrow her car, but I can only get it at weekends.”
“I can take someone on my scooter?” Shawn smiled reassuringly at Sarah. “We want as many as possible.” A bit more discussion and there were three with cars who could get away at the right time. A few smiled when Abel asked if Shannon could pick up Jenny on the way, because a woman collecting her would reassure Jenny’s dad. The Taverners probably assumed he just wanted to meet his girlfriend away from home, but Abel wanted their only real sorceress on the job.
The next part, setting up a business to market the Tavern game, turned out much simpler than expected. Despite eighteen being the age of full majority, any sixteen-year-old could own shares. As promised Shannon had mugged her parents for several pages of diagrams and flowcharts on how to organise a business, with the legal requirements for setting up a company. Three people had found companies that advertised setting up trademarks or copyrights, and several had downloaded the government information. There were now six Taverners over eighteen, all willing to deal with the contracts and any similar legal problems, but Eric had a better idea. He suggested the three mothers, Abel’s, Rob’s and Kelis’, as the legal owners. The mothers wouldn’t even need to know about the magical part.
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Now that he could speak freely, Abel told them about being attacked on the first day of school and the creature in the woods behind Castle House. At least he could also talk to Ferryl privately this time, with Ferryl/Jenny replying through his hand. “Why haven’t you told me about these attacks?”
“How?” Even while Abel answered, Kelis passed around a sketch of the tough burrower. “
Until you made Zephyr I had to talk to you at school, in public. Do you know what that is?”
Warren already knew, sort of. “Blimey, it’s either a magical Mr. Whippy ice cream or the Doggy-Doo monster.”
Rob laughed because the drawing really looked like one or the other. “It squished down to half that size before boinging up like a spring, so it really did look like dog poop.”
“Not ice cream. That thing is tough.” Kelis explained how tough.
“Poop-monster then.” Warren made a scooping motion with his hand. “We’ll need extra-large scoopers and bags.”
Meanwhile Abel felt more and more worried as Ferryl explained the reality. “That is a young troll. The earth and rock left behind means a cave troll, which the church claimed they wiped out before I went in the hole. Trolls are protective so a young one like that will have a larger one nearby.”
“How big? That thing really was tough.”
“As big as a truck, and as they get older the rock and soil bonded into their skin stops even fire. Trolls have little magic of their own outside strengthening rock but are very resistant to magical attacks. Only something that can shatter rock will break through, then the inside can be scoured with magic or blades.” Ferryl/Jenny’s hand squeezed harder. “You must explain. If anyone sees one, leave it alone.”
“What about Castle House gardens? It was trying to burrow in.”
“It can’t. The main barrier is a globe that includes the rock beneath the house. That is why it takes so many trees to power it. Cut hexes on long thin stakes and drive them deep into the ground around the wood, then fill them with magic. That will stop most intrusions.” Ferryl/Jenny leant forward. “So what is it, Abel?”
