by Vance Huxley
“What is icing? Anything sweet would be welcome. There has been a sad lack lately.” Kelis didn’t answer, just fishing out the treat and throwing it to the dryad who tested it carefully. “This might be worth trading for answers another time, occasionally generous apprentice.” Abel and Kelis left it with the treat, to find that Rob had volunteers. Three goblins shared the scraps, then headed for Castle House with Zephyr flying high above them. Kelis, Rob and Abel followed but cautiously, with only Abel connected so anyone waiting would think he came alone.
Zephyr reported back long before they were in sight of the garden. “It is a person, laid in the hollow where the Kalkatrie hid. A woman and she is alive but not moving. The goblins are getting closer. May I connect to a Goblin?”
“No Zephyr. Ferryl warned against letting anyone know who you are, and the contact might tell them too much. Please search the area, for other people as well as anything magical.” Abel passed the message to the other two.
“There is faint magic inside her, not hers but not like Ferryl Shayde. I will search.”
When Abel repeated that Kelis stopped dead. “You said something about blood and feeding. Can you remember what the phone call said, exactly?” Abel did his best. “Whoever that is has a Blood Leech in them. Or a seed, maybe that’s what a youngling means.” She started walking again. “You dealt with a grown one, Abel, so we three can tackle a youngster.” She sniggered and pointed upwards. “Especially with the flying fist of doom helping out.”
The flying fist of doom reported the area clear of anything that might threaten three humans. As the teenagers came out of the village, the three ornamental stone figures in the grass reported in. The woman had hardly moved, possibly injured because the goblins could smell blood but not see any. She had something inside her that stank. Abel remembered the dryad saying the Blood Leech smelled bad.
Everything made sense once they saw the woman. “Claris!” Kelis started forward then stopped, looking around.
“Pale, scrawny, weak, those are all the signs according to Ferryl.” Rob edged closer, his bat raised. “I’m not into whomping women, but if she goes for anyone?” He peered at her. “Flipping flopping curses, she looks starved!”
The voices roused Claris, or something inside her. “Are you the sorcerer, Abel Conroy?” Before he could answer, Claris’ voice continued. “Yes, this host recognises you. I have a message for you, and a place to take you. If you want the key to Castle House you must feed this one. She must be stronger to make the trip.” A wave of feeling swept over Abel, a wish to help, but it wasn’t strong and his ward barely chilled as it banished the attempt.
Kelis pushed forward and glared down at Claris. “Don’t try that again. Any of us can crush you, let alone all three. Is Claris alive?”
“Yes, a host must stay alive. But not for long if we do not get blood.” The hissing cackle sounded nothing like Claris, “If you kill me, your school-friend dies.”
“Friend? Hah!” Rob hesitated, because even if he disliked Claris intensely he wouldn’t actually kill her. “The nearest you get to blood is a beef sandwich.”
“Blood, it must be blood. I cannot use any other food until I grow. Fresh blood with the magic still in it. If all three of you open a vein, I could get a little from each?” A fainter version of the compulsion started but then stopped.
“A rare steak?” Abel looked from Kelis to Rob, trying to get his head round it. The Leech might be conning them, but everything it said sort of gelled with Ferryl’s description. “Blood sausage? Black pudding?”
“Fresh, it must be to have the magic still in it. This is where we need a local blood bank, open for withdrawals.” Kelis rubbed her wrist. “I’m not letting it suck on me. Next thing I’ll have a seed as well. Vampires! The cursed thing really is a vampire.”
“Near enough for the legends.” Abel racked his brains. “We have to find blood to keep her going until Ferryl gets here, which will be tomorrow. Though I’ve no idea how to do that.”
“Does the blood have to be human? We could see if Stan has nobbled a rabbit? Or use a chicken?” Rob shuddered. “I don’t fancy that either.”
“It must be human blood.” Claris struggled half-upright. “Soon. We have not fed today.”
“How do we know it really is we, that Claris isn’t dead?” Kelis’ eyes narrowed. “Prove it, wake her up. Let her speak.”
“She is already awake. If I let her speak, we will get blood?”
“Yes.” Kelis stared at Abel so he gave the tiniest of shrugs. “Zephyr, tell Kelis and Rob I don’t mind lying to this thing.” When the spooky-phone connected Kelis gave a tiny nod.
“Of course we will, but only if Claris is free to speak.” Kelis stopped speaking as Claris’ eyes opened wider, her face showing pure terror.
“Help me! Oh God, please help me. I can’t stop it. It hurts and hurts, and then it makes me drink….. Oh god, stop it. Please!” Her face smoothed out and her voice calmed. “Now give me my blood.”
“That’s all wrong! Ferryl said the host shouldn’t remember.” Rob hesitated, then turned to Kelis. “Maybe we shouldn’t have woken her up like that.”
Abel wasn’t getting side-tracked, though Claris’ reaction had shocked him as well. “We’ll find out when Ferryl gets here. Right now we need a chicken.” He wondered just how ill Claris was. “Can you walk?” He didn’t fancy feeding her here, or carrying her through the village.
“Yes if I get blood, for strength. But it must be human. You promised.”
“No it doesn’t. Any animal blood will do.” Kelis sneered at the thing looking out of Claris’ eyes. “One of you, a blood-sack, came into the wood in a badger.” Her lip lifted in a snarl. “The dryad killed it. One of you living in a badger means you can drink chicken blood, or rat blood if necessary. Make up your mind, chicken blood or die.”
Rob looked from Claris to Kelis to Abel and opened his mouth but Abel had already contacted Zephyr. “Tell Rob to keep quiet. Kelis is calling its bluff because she’s right about the badger.” Zephyr must have passed it on because Rob subsided.
“A chicken then. But it must be fresh, with the magic in it. If you get the chicken, I will kill it?” The thing seemed much too keen on that, but none of them fancied doing it themselves.
“How do we get a chicken from someone?” Rob glanced towards the houses. “Stan is nearest.” He shrugged. “We’ll have to come up with a reason for whoever we go to, something better than fancying a late-night chicken curry.”
“We’ll tell him we want to put a chicken in the garden, in our meeting place.” Kelis hesitated then grinned. “Because we’ve got ants? So they’ll be eaten up by morning?” That lightened the mood, but after a quick discussion it was the best they could come up with.
“What about money? How much is a chicken?” Abel patted his pockets. “I’m skint.”
“The Tavern fund will pay.” Kelis turned towards home. “One of you had better come with me. Mum will go crackers if I walk through the village on my own at this time of night. She’s not as worried about dad these days, but it’s best not to wind her up again.”
“I’ll go and talk to Stan first. We get on all right, and I reckon he’ll trust me for the money until tomorrow.” Abel really didn’t fancy it, but braced himself. “We’ve got to get Claris away from here before someone coming past stops their car to see what we’re up to.” He turned to Claris, who watched him intently. “If someone comes, you act completely human. No mention of blood. You’ve sprained an ankle and we are here to help you home.”
“Then I get blood?” Abel didn’t answer. He headed across the road at an angle towards Stan’s, the first house in Brinsford, but hesitated at the front gate. When Bugsy started barking, Abel braced himself, opened the gate and went round to the back door. He knocked, hoping Stan could hear him over the row.
“Abel? What are you doing here at this time of night?” Stan glanced down. “Bugsy, hush.” The Jack Russel stopped immediately. “Fri
end.” Stan looked up again. “Come in lad. I presume this is private.” He grinned. “Want some advice about your love life?”
Abel laughed because he had to. “No Stan, but thanks.” He came into the small kitchen, closing the door behind him. “I’ve got a really odd request. You know we go into those gardens? Well, we have a little cave where we can keep out of the rain.” Abel went into a little spiel about how they must have attracted ants by dropping crisps and crumbs, and wanted a chicken. Stan didn’t mind selling one, though he had a definitely curious look about him, but then it all started to go wrong. First Stan told him to call back in the morning and Abel had to explain it had to be tonight. He got the impression the old poacher thought he knew Abel was lying, especially when Stan asked if Kelis and Rob were still waiting across the road. “Yes.” Stan looked at him for a long time, then shook his head sadly.
The next words floored Abel completely. “They’re not devils or gods, y’know. You can’t ask them for stuff, or communicate. I thought they might be ghosts, but if they are then some folk are bloody nasty even after they die.” Stan held Abel’s eyes. “Is this some sort of bloody stupid black magic crap? A blood sacrifice, or for you to write some daft shite on a wall?”
“Bloo… No Stan! I swear!” Abel’s mind went round in circles. Black magic?
“So why are you three over there in the grass with something bloody weird moving around near you. Bugsy warned me earlier so I had a look out the window. They look like garden ornaments half the time then well, if Bugsy couldn’t see them I’d wonder about booking a room in the loony-bin.” Abel’s mind skittered around searching for an answer, but goblins were clearly visible to anyone. “I know you’re like your mum, see stuff. I keep quiet, though I should have told her when she had all that trouble as a nipper. I didn’t want the same treatment.”
“So you…?” Now Abel wondered how many people could actually see something, a bit of the magic.
“I see stuff, out the corner of my eye, especially when me and Bugsy are wandering about at night.” A wry smile accepted Stan wasn’t just wandering about. “I even tried shooting a few, back when I were younger and dafter. It don’t work on most, and makes some of the big ones look even worse.” His face and voice sobered. “Some of them are nasty and will attack small animals. I’ve lost chicks and even young pullets now and then. I had to train Bugsy to let them be after he got stung a couple of times. Now young fella, why do you want a live chicken right now, tonight?”
Abel sat and thought for a few minutes but Stan didn’t interrupt, sitting quietly and stroking Bugsy. Eventually Abel couldn’t come up with anything more believable than the truth. “A school friend has got one of the bad ones inside her. Tomorrow we can get someone to come and get it out but it’s hungry, and hurting her. We have to feed it fresh blood to keep her going tonight. She got as far as the hollow over there, but unless we feed it she’ll not make it through the village.”
Stan didn’t react at first, just stroking his dog and thinking. He took a deep breath. “I’d be a lot more worried if I hadn’t seen you three at Halloween. You really were chasing things out of Brinsford, though back then I couldn’t be sure it was deliberate. Then I saw a couple of other odd things round you three, and a sort of spark when you tapped my Land Rover.” He darted a quick glance at Abel. “It runs better now.” Abel kept quiet. “Now the little critturs that usually run about in here have gone and hid. You frighten them lad, and that’s good enough for me.”
He stood and went to a cupboard, reaching inside. Abel heard a clink and a clatter and Stan took out his shotgun, pulling a chain out of the trigger guard. He broke the weapon and slid in two cartridges. “Just in case. I’m not happy about those statue things.”
“Kelis and Rob will have chased them off by now.” Abel made sure they did. “Zephyr, please contact Kelis. Ask her to get the goblins to hide, because Stan is coming with a shotgun. Explain what he said, and what I told him.” Bugsy’s eyes followed Zephyr as she flew out through the crack around the door, but Stan didn’t notice that or the spooky-phone.
“I’m coming over there to weigh the job up first. If it all looks like you said I’ll give you blood for the lass. Though I’ll want to see her tomorrow, once you’ve got it sorted out.” With a smirk he opened the fridge. “I like to make me own black pudding.” Abel stared at the big carton. “Yes lad, blood from the butcher, though I add some rabbit if I catch one.”
“Brilliant, Stan. The idea of killing something makes my stomach turn.” Though Abel’s mind raced because he wasn’t sure the thing would take it. Dead blood might not have magic in it. “Don’t mention where it’s from in front of Claris. The thing seems to get off on the fresh part.”
“It’ll know anyway. That’s cold, unless you want it warmed up.” He paused. “Does your mum know? About what you see?”
“She knows I see stuff, and that I can keep the creatures out of the house.”
A big smile broke over Stan’s face. “In that case that’s what the blood will cost you. I knew you’d turn out to be useful one day. That’s if you can fix my place up to keep them out, and the chicken pen?”
“Deal.” Abel followed Stan and Bugsy out the door, his head spinning. “How many other people in Brinsford can see the creatures, Stan?”
“Just me and your mum, as far as I know. It’s why I live here, near Castle House where there aren’t so many weird things wandering about. That place seems to scare them away. Are there any in the gardens?”
“Not many. Maybe that’s what started all the stories about the place.” As they talked about why there were fewer creatures, Abel realised Stan didn’t push for answers. The old poacher always liked to know everything, but not this time. Despite his caution Stan didn’t close and cock the shotgun as they crossed the road, watching Bugsy rather the group ahead.
Stan relaxed when he came nearer Kelis and Rob. “Those two scare the things away as well. Good to know.”
Claris had sat up, with Kelis holding her. The Leech must have had instructions, because Claris looked and sounded like a scared schoolgirl with something painful inside. After asking her name, and a few more questions, Stan asked straight out if she really needed blood. Abel had to give the Leech credit, it managed to copy some of the fear and revulsion Claris showed earlier. Meanwhile Bugsy wouldn’t go too near her, and growled a little.
“All right, I’m convinced and Bugsy reckons there’s something wrong with her. I don’t want to know any more, Claris, except I want to see you tomorrow after you’ve been cured.” Stan looked around the rest of them. “I’ve come too near to going crazy too many times to ask more questions. Some things are best left alone. If you get in real trouble, me and Bugsy are always here.” Stan patted his shotgun. “This works on some of them, and they ain’t people so I’ll shoot. Stay here and I’ll bring the blood, in a jug. I’m not trying to drain a chicken at the side of the road.”
As he headed away Claris opened her mouth to object but Abel bent to stop her. “Fresh blood in a mug or he’ll be suspicious and maybe call a priest.” Her mouth clamped shut. “Zephyr, tell Kelis and Rob the blood is from the fridge, cold with no magic. Be ready if the Leech acts up.”
Both frowned for a moment, then Kelis stepped back out of Claris’ line of sight. She raised both hands, slightly cupped as if casting a glyph. “I’ll hold the glass or mug for Claris. We wouldn’t want her to spill any and waste the magic.” At “magic” she waggled her fingers and Abel had to stifle the smile.
“Be quick, to make sure it’s still warm.”
“Oh yes.” Kelis smirked, then sneered at the back of Claris’ head.
Five minutes later Stan came back across the road, without his shotgun but carrying a jug and a glass. “Anyone squeamish had better look away. I know you modern kids have weak stomachs.” He held out the jug and glass. “Now drink it while it’s still warm.” He’d obviously thought that bit out himself. Kelis stood in front of Stan, her back to the Leech as
Stan filled the glass, then turned and held it for Claris to drink. The jug filled the glass three times, and Claris drank the lot. “I wasn’t absolutely certain you’d drink it. Kids can be sneaky.” Stan prodded Abel. “Whatever that is in yon lass, kill it.” Behind him Claris jerked and opened her mouth, but kept quiet when Rob prodded her with his bat.
“We’ll get it sorted, I promise. It might take a couple of days, but I’m not totally sure without the expert.” Abel thought he’d best go for it now. “If we need a bit more blood, for a day or so?”
“All right, just for a couple of days but no more. Is your expert that vicar?” Stan smirked at the look of surprise. “I live right there, where I can see everyone coming and going.”
“Not the vicar though he could do it. This one is shy but much better for this job, gentler. I really do owe you, Stan.” More than Stan would ever know, hopefully.
“You know how to pay.” The old poacher turned to Claris, concern on his face. “It’s all right love. They’re an odd lot, these three, but they’ll look after you.” With that he picked up the glass, called Bugsy to heel and left.
“Can you walk now?” Claris stood up without answering. “Good, now let’s get you….” Abel tailed off into silence as he realised he’d no idea where Claris could sleep.
“It’s not getting near mum.” Kelis had moved away from Claris now Stan had gone.
“Nor my family.” Rob tapped his bat into his palm. “I really don’t trust it to stay put inside Claris. You said the one in Henry came out.”
“It did, he heaved it up like being sick. It’s definitely not sleeping on my couch.” The three of them tried to work out just where Claris, and her passenger, could be kept safe. Even with her tied up, that Leech might get out and wriggle away. Worse, it might compel someone healthier to let it inside them, or maybe offer their neck.
“Do you have more sweet sticky fruity stuff?” All three stopped talking to stare at the Goblins. They’d crept up, imitating stone while listening, but one had turned its head green to talk.
