by Vance Huxley
A Very Different Game
Ferryl Shayde III
BY
VANCE HUXLEY
This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this eBook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author.
© 2017 Vance Huxley
Published by Entrada Publishing.
Printed in the United States of America.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgement
Chapter 1 Aftermath
Chapter 2 Endgame
Chapter 3 To the Woods!
Chapter 4 Knock, Knock
Chapter 5 Loot or Legacy
Chapter 6 Monster Hunt
Chapter 7 Gathering Wits
Chapter 8 Mixed Results
Chapter 9 Fishing for Snakes
Chapter 10 Disorderly Conduct
Chapter 11 High and Low Justice
Chapter 12 Claiming the Gryphon
Abel’s World
Ferryl’s World
Bonny’s Tavern
Dedication
To my Noeline and to the Joy of my life
Acknowledgement
Thank you to my editor Sharon Umbaugh,
for turning my words into a book worth reading.
My thanks to Rachel at Entrada for
all her hard work and encouragement.
Aftermath
Centuries ago, when the church declared there were no witches and magic did not exist, most people never realised the true significance. The public declaration signalled the signing of a secret Accord, an agreement betwixt the church and the magical, an uneasy peace between them. The magically aware witches, warlocks, sorcerers and sorceresses agreed to stay out of the public eye. They moved out of any areas protected by a church and stopped targeting true believers. The church agreed the magicians would control the areas where there weren’t enough believers to support a place of worship.
Both agreed to protect the humans in their areas from the magical creatures that still roamed the earth. Most of the largest, most dangerous entities had already been eradicated and any further attacks on humans were quickly hushed up, usually by the church. Most people lived on in blissful ignorance, unaware of the small, ugly, sometimes venomous creatures that still wandered, invisible, through their homes and food. Luckily, although many take a little magic from humans, the smaller creatures prey mainly on each other, small animals, plants, or insects.
Many years passed without any public mention of magic. Unfortunately, as belief in magic faded, so did the revenue for those who provided protection, either witches or priests. Large areas of the country, usually the poorer housing estates or small villages, are now overrun by invisible magical creatures such as hoplins, pictsies, and fae. All of them are ugly, most are fanged and many are slimy or have stings. None look like the versions in fairy stories. Despite none of the smaller ones taking much magic, the sheer numbers are having an effect on the health of the unprotected humans, especially the young or sick.
The Accord is still in effect but it no longer protects all the population. The remaining sorcerers are concentrated in towns and cities where they have lucrative contracts. Their main income comes from filling the logos on goods such as expensive cars and fridges with magic, so they work better and are protected from the likes of gremlins. The few magic-aware owners of gambling businesses, and those relying on delicate machinery or computers, pay heavily to have their premises hexed to keep the creatures out. The expensive fees give them a decisive business advantage over unprotected rivals. Some wealthy families have passed down the knowledge that magic exists, and pay high prices to divert the sorcerers from such contracts long enough to protect a home. There are no witches in the towns, because sorcerers won’t let them work in the lucrative areas. Outside the towns, many villages no longer have enough believers in magic paying for curses and charms to support a witch or warlock.
The church hunts down any large, dangerous magical creature that comes near their places of worship, to protect the tithe-paying faithful who support the priest. The prayers of the faithful feed magic to the church cross, which repels all small magical creatures in the surrounding area. In places without enough tithes to support a priest, or enough prayers to power the cross, churches are closed and the protection it provided lapses. Over the years, more magically aware churchmen have been taken away to fight in God wars, against other religions. Today, most frontline priests are unaware magic even exists.
An increasing number of people live in areas where neither church nor sorcerers will spot the signs of magical awareness. The result is that potential magic users grow up never knowing, aware only of occasional movements in the shadows. Worse, if the person doesn’t become aware of magic until they are in their mid-twenties, their brain can’t adapt. Suddenly seeing all the magical creatures that surround everyone, without any way of driving them away, is enough for the unfortunates to question their sanity. The changes in their body and mind as the brain tries to control their new talent, without any idea of what it is, usually drives the person insane. In the village of Brinsford, tucked up against the Pennines in central England, a small group of teenagers are doing their best to change that.
∼∼
Sixteen-year-old Abel Bernard Conroy, an accidental trainee sorcerer in a world mostly unaware of magic, has a big problem. The tall, skinny woman laid on a camp bed in the deserted church had been a possessed host, rescued during a frantic fight with a nest of blood leeches. The leech inside her had kept the woman completely under control, but conscious through forty years of killing and bloodsucking, which had broken her mind. During that time many of her vital organs had shrunk because the blood leech only drank fresh blood, using the magic in it to maintain the host’s body. Now the only thing keeping the woman alive is another blood leech, a smaller one that has chosen to be magically enslaved rather than die.
Leeches usually prey on humans, living inside a host and controlling them. The creatures use magic to keep their host functional, even if organs are pierced, to give the leech more room to grow or access to blood. This blood leech is bound, magically enslaved, and is not allowed to cause more damage or drink fresh blood. Abel and his friends supply the leech with magic which it uses to keep itself and the host, the woman, alive even though her body is beyond medical help. Actually healing her needs a different, much more powerful magical creature.
Abel turned to his mentor, Ferryl Shayde, an ancient sorceress who currently possesses a red-haired schoolgirl, Claris. Ferryl had done so to save Claris’s life, to heal her after a leech had been tricked into leaving her body. Now Claris could survive on her own and the woman on the bed needed a resident healer much, much more. “How soon can you release Claris and move into this one, Ferryl? The leech is barely keeping her going.”
“Two or three weeks at least. I have to eradicate the worst of Claris’s memories of being possessed by the leeches, and any knowledge of magic gained while I have been healing her. This is worse than my last host, Jenny, because I only had to alter her memories from when she had the accident. Even then, most of them could be retained once I removed any knowledge of how to work advanced magic.” Ferryl/Claris didn’t look particularly amused. “Life was never this complicated. I used to agree to heal someone in return for twenty years of possession, as I did with
Jenny. Two hundred years ago that meant half their relatives were dead, and moving three villages away gave the host a whole new life anyway. Their memories didn’t have to be precise or complete. Changing hosts every few months is very hard work.” A smile brightened her face. “But a fair exchange for my life and freedom.”
Abel glanced at his arm, at the tattoo of a furry catwoman that had been Ferryl Shayde’s home for nine months. She’d moved in there when Abel freed her from a pit, because after being imprisoned for two hundred years Ferryl Shayde had faded to little more than a puff of wind. In return for her release and protection, she had promised to guard and train Abel for ninety years. Now a shimmer flowed out of the tattoo and hovered, smoky lines connecting her to the others present so she could ‘speak’ to their minds. “My life as well.” Zephyr, or the Flying Fist of Doom as she’d been nicknamed, had been created so that nobody realised Ferryl had moved on to possess a human. The sprite pretended to be the sorceress to those who were aware of her existence. “What happens to the leech when you possess the woman? Why hasn’t she got a name?”
“The leech says she’s insane so it can’t find an identity, or anything but pain and terror. After forty years of that she’s better off with her mind asleep.” Abel turned to his two best friends, also trainee sorcerers and fellow conspirators. “We’ll have to try and keep her a secret for three weeks. Let’s hope we have better luck this time. At least we all know how to cast a veil now so the neighbours won’t see us coming and going.” Last time they’d hidden a leech victim, Claris, their parents had found out but believed her condition had been a result of drug addiction.
Sixteen-year-old Kelis, tall and almost as thin as the emaciated victim, bent over the woman with a small lead bar in her hand. “Mum would go crackers. I’m still grounded because of the state I came home in at Halloween. I’d hoped mum might calm down and change her mind when the news showed there really were drunken yobs in Stourton, but no such luck.” She held a small lead bar that had been filled with magic. One flat surface had a glyph, the symbols that helped a magic user to harness their power and intent, inscribed into it. This glyph controlled the transfer of magic from one object or creature to another. Kelis carefully aligned the glyph with a similar one drawn on the back of the comatose woman’s neck. “Leech? Wake her up please, enough for you to draw the magic. Try to keep her dreaming.”
The woman stirred, her limbs twitching as the leech inside her formed words using her lips. “I am doing what the Firstseed told me, but it is hard because her mind is gone. I learned to be less painful while living in the toad or it would have died.” Ferryl/Claris flinched at the title Firstseed, which meant the senior leech in a nest, but Kelis smirked as the leech continued. “I cannot heal her, not properly, so I am trying to numb her pain. My given memories never taught me how to avoid hurting a host, and learning is slow.”
“Well, at least you are trying. The seed you killed was eating her alive.” Removing the lead bar, Kelis tested it. “That should be enough magic to keep you going. You can have another bar full later.”
The woman stilled for long moments then began to twitch again. “My thanks for the magic. Please feed the host now, so she can sleep again.”
“I’ll do it.” Rob, the other one of Abel’s best friends and a fellow trainee, knelt and helped the woman into a sitting position.
As he did, Abel answered Kelis’s earlier comment. “Being grounded until Christmas is sort of fair, I guess, since we organised the diversion that started the riot. We’re not even properly grounded, just restricted to the village. I reckon it’s the damage to our clothes that’s upset our parents, the tears and burns. If mum thought I’d actually been part of the riot I’d never see daylight for a year.”
Meanwhile Rob held a plastic beaker to the woman’s lips. Despite leeches only drinking fresh blood, experimentation had shown they actually lived on the magic in it. They could utilise other forms of food, but never bothered since that was more difficult for them. “There you are, love. Liquidised raw rabbit because your passenger needs a little fresh blood. I’ve got some chicken soup with added vitamins to take the taste away afterwards.” He looked up at the others, slightly embarrassed. “I know she can’t understand, or even taste properly, but I can’t treat her like a meat puppet.”
“None of us can.” Abel turned away as his phone played ‘People are Strange.’ “It’s Vicar Creepio Mysterio.”
Kelis, the person responsible for the peripatetic archbishop’s unofficial nickname, grimaced because his phone calls were rarely friendly. “He said he’d leave us be for a while. After all, none of the news stories suggested magic so we didn’t really break the Accord.” She suddenly looked alarmed. “It’s only been three days. Has he found out we opened Castle House?”
Castle House, a big old creepy building on the outskirts of the village, had been protected by layers of powerful and dangerous magic for over a hundred years. The peripatetic archbishop had threatened a massive response from the church if Abel and his friends opened it and released whatever lay trapped inside. Since nobody had a clue where the key might be, and even Ferryl daren’t risk the protective magic, Abel and his friends had more or less ignored the building.
Then a Firstseed, a blood leech matriarch, had offered to sell them the key. Even then, they hesitated because the sale was a trap, but the Firstseed forced Abel’s hand by attacking and threatening schoolchildren. Halloween had provided cover for a desperate battle that broke the leech nest, killed most of the leeches, rescued the woman now laid in the church, and left Abel with the key. As the Taverners escaped, with their friends using magic and goblins to spread confusion, the market town of Stourton suffered the most spectacular Halloween in its history.
Despite the warnings from Ferryl and the threats from Creepio, gaining possession of a key to Castle House had been just too much of a temptation. Unfortunately, opening the door hadn’t helped very much, because only Abel could go inside. Some distant blood link to the sorcerer who used to live there meant the house recognised his right to enter, but only the entrance. Abel found a small chest on a table, containing a sovereign and brief instructions to take the coin to an address in Stourton, the nearest town. Further exploration had to wait because Abel couldn’t do that while he was grounded.
“Creepio doesn’t know or he’d have arrived without warning, along with God’s SAS. The house isn’t really open, just the front hall and only Abel can get in there.” Ferryl/Claris turned from Abel to the seventeen-year-old schoolgirl who had just arrived. “Just as well or Jenny would have been in there trying to adopt the frog-dragon.”
Jenny, Abel’s ex-allegedly-girlfriend and Ferryl’s ex-host, tried to look offended. “I wouldn’t! Well maybe, because he’s cute in a large frilly animated stone monster sort of way.” She giggled, not that unusual after she’d filled up with tree magic. Jenny had told Abel she’d stay clear of him and Brinsford after Ferryl left her, because it would feel weird after the possession. The lure of magic had been stronger and she had continued to visit, and helped the trio as they rescued Claris. Now Jenny was the only other living human to know the true secret of Ferryl Shayde, that she possessed humans to give herself a physical form. “I can’t see dad letting me keep a frog-dragon anyway, even in the shed.”
“Hush or the vicar will hear.” Abel answered his phone but then only listened, for quite a while. He eventually said “only if we are all here” before hitting mute. “He wants to talk to our patient, or to the leech inside her. He’s trying to get the blood leech out of the priest he rescued.” The possessed priest had been left alive but trapped when Abel and his friends smashed the nest.
The woman on the bed stirred, enough for the blood leech inside her to speak. “The leech in the churchman is Thirteenseed, the one created straight after me so it will have a firm hold in his brain. It will be bigger than you allowed me to grow, so pulling it free will kill the churchman.” Her eyes opened in sudden fear. “He is a churc
hman, the one who spoke to me? He will kill me!”
“No he won’t. He promised.” Ferryl/Claris shook her head because that still surprised her.
“You are a strong Firstseed.” The leech ignored the look from Ferryl/Claris and the snigger from Kelis. “You will protect me? Please?” Its manners had improved dramatically after being magically bound to serve Ferryl.
“I have to.” As Ferryl/Claris snarled her answer, Jenny tried to smother a snigger as well, because the sorceress really wasn’t comfortable with protecting leeches. She absolutely hated being referred to as Firstseed, the title for a blood leech matriarch.
Abel had turned away, speaking quietly into the phone, but now he turned back and put it in his pocket. “I’ve told him we’ve all got to be here or no deal. He’s agreed on tomorrow night, after tea because it’s a school day. Come on Rob, we’ll leave so mummy can take her baby to the loo.”
“I am not that leech’s mother!” Ferryl/Claris turned on her heel and called out. “Two goblins please.” Two tubby green creatures with thin arms and legs came in. “Carry her to the toilet please. Gently.” With a glare at Abel she rummaged in a bag for a clean nightdress. He got out smartish, as did Rob, both managing to stifle their laughter until they’d left the overgrown churchyard. Ferryl’s voice floated after them. “Why don’t you make yourselves useful? You could take some lead bars to Castle House and fill them up.”
Both headed for Castle House gardens, protected by a magical barrier that excluded magical creatures and repelled most animals and all humans. The gardens and the wood behind contained a large number of trees without dryads, a huge reservoir of tree-magic for the five people who could pass the barrier. Once there the pair filled a stack of hundred-gram lead bars with tree-magic. Tomorrow they’d pass them around at school so the Taverners, local teenagers who’d become aware of magic, could use the extra supply to practice casting glyphs.
