by Vance Huxley
“You already know or should. I am called Fay Shayde, so Ferryl Shayde the cat-sorceress. Or didn’t you know where Abel came up with the name?” Ferryl watched surprise and then calculation appear on the vicar’s face. “Abel Bernard Conroy helped me out of a great deal of trouble. I would take it very personally should anyone seek to harm him. That does include the church.” She leant forward, meeting Creepio’s look with her own.
Abel almost held his breath. He didn’t think Creepio would appreciate a threat to the church. Several breaths passed without all hell breaking loose until Creepio slowly relaxed. “That is what I had to find out, your relationship to this young man and if he knew what you are. I am not afraid of you, Fay Shayde, as you well know, but I respect that kind of debt. You should know that I am not one of those who wish to attack your friend.” He broke the eye-lock, shifting to look at a relieved Abel. “Though if the church had decided on that course, I would have helped. It is my calling. I had to speak to you for two reasons. Three really. Where is the host, the one who had the leech? Did you put it back in her?”
“No. She is safe and her body is healing. Her mind is destroyed so she sleeps while someone much better than me tries to put her life together.” Every word gospel truth, so Abel didn’t blush or falter. “The leech is hopping about in a hare with white stripes so the local poacher doesn’t shoot it.”
The burst of laughter from the vicar might have been more shocking than the threats of doom and gloom. “I might offer a prayer of thanks for that, just for the sheer effect it will have when the discussions get a little tense.” His humour didn’t last, or not completely, though the tone stayed lighter. “Another of the reasons for concern is your army. If any sorcerer gathered over thirty apprentices and trained them as you are doing, it would herald a magical war. Your neighbours would act to stop you. As it is, not a single one is tethered so they do not count as apprentices. They are simply a large group of young, partly trained warlocks or sorcerers with no allegiance to anyone.”
“It might be a bad idea for anyone to think that means they can hurt any of us, or try to tether anyone without permission.” Kelis smirked, getting back on balance. “We had to tell Pendragon that when he talked about recruiting. Nobody wanted to join him voluntarily.”
“Who do you think has raised all the alarm about your possible army? Nobody paid any attention to him until you wiped out a nest of leeches, and word leaked out you defeated trolls and sorcerers.” The vicar shook his head in disbelief. “I wondered myself, even after finding out the sorcerers were only senior apprentices. That attack looked very much like a power play by an arrogant new sorcerer or sorceress. Then you rescued a dying host from the middle of that mess, and killed those two seeds for me. Why didn’t you ask for the village church as payment when you freed Father Curtis?”
“We’d have liked to, but we don’t charge to save lives.” Jenny smiled sweetly at him, her patent innocent one. “How are they all doing?”
Creepio even responded with a brief smile. “Both the young women are very well. Father Curtis lives, and may recover in time. Your reminder about the young ladies isn’t necessary, because Amanda and Cecelia have already been told how they survived. They both want to meet their saviours. I suggest your refuge in Stourton, the big house.” The old Creepio smile came back, along with his usual mocking tone. “That place really did throw the pitchforks and bonfires brigade off-course, as did using the income from the contracts to support the charity. Teeth were gnashed and beards pulled.”
“Why do you find it funny when church leaders are upset?” Rob asked, but they’d all wondered now and then.
“For the same reason I am the peripatetic archbishop for the Church Militant in our fair country. I do not blindly follow dogma, I follow my heart and my faith. Sometimes the two clash.” His humour died again. “Then I support my faith, always.” Silence fell, with the vicar obviously thinking how to proceed and the others wondering what the last bit might mean.
“What about the third reason, or the first? The other one.” Rob shrugged at the looks from the others. “Is there another? I lost count.”
Creepio stirred, abandoning whatever he’d been thinking about. “That solves my problem, how to bring up the subject without being too abrupt. I must ask some very straightforward questions, ones I really hope you will answer.” A wry smile might be admitting he couldn’t force answers from them, or at having to ask carefully rather than demand. “Some people use ignorance to create a greater threat from a small one. I must know what type of glyphs you have learned, and have some indication of your skill. You, Kelis,” he said, looking at her, “hid in plain sight of a priest aware of magic. I know how, I think, but need confirmation.”
“A very super-fast anti-clockwise veil glyph to conceal us from even magical sight, while casting a clockwise one to extend it to conceal Rob and Jane Doe as well. We set it up behind nettles, so the leeches couldn’t see an apparently bare bit of ground when the grass disappeared.” Creepio opened his mouth but Kelis kept going. “I used a magic link from three trees, buried deep enough so even a dryad couldn’t see it. I kept the veil going over an hour which hurts, believe me.” Everyone heard her pride in the last part.
“I’ve never held one that long, but I believe you and that is exactly the sort of thing I need to know. Normally only an experienced sorcerer would even know the glyph, and only a very strong one would use it. I doubt more than half a dozen apprentices in the country have been taught how to hide from their masters. Rob?” His eyes moved across. “How did you hold an adult man captive with just earth?”
“The dryad helped. We did it between us. I could raise the earth and harden it but not enough to hold Father Curtis, so the dryad threaded roots together to create a reinforcing mesh. We made a slightly loose prison that never squeezed him so his ward wasn’t threatened, but he couldn’t get out. He panicked, which helped because it gave us the chance to capture his hands as well.” Rob paused, glancing at the others before continuing. “You knew I could cast earth glyphs.”
“Not those, to construct a solid earthen shell, though you have now explained that it wasn’t completely solid. Your previous demonstration destroyed a small patch of road in Stourton, turned it to dust, which is easier as you pointed out at the time. Now I’m trying to assess how knowledgeable you are, and how adept, but not for the church. The church has decided to leave you all alone for now, largely based on your charitable actions and for saving leech victims.” He didn’t smile, but Creepio’s face definitely lost its stern edges for a moment. “Especially Father Curtis. He is still in great distress but his faith is strong, so we believe he will recover in time. You will never know how much that means to some very influential people. I know you didn’t do it for that, but take the credit and bank it.”
“I thought the church had been considering killing us all? We can’t have got much credit.” Her tone matched Kelis’s sour expression, because she’d really hoped someone in the church would be grateful.
“Unfortunately, some of what Father Curtis said caused real concern because he remembers his leech truly believing they faced Braeth Huntian. Only some fast, serious talking stopped a few rash individuals from heading to Brinsford loaded for something much worse than fraggons. It soon became clear he’d mixed up Claris being seeded with your claims of possession by Braeth Huntian and the appearance of Abel’s passenger. I have already reported that Abel’s shy friend is just a strong tethered spirit.” A hint of a smile appeared again. “All of that is immaterial now. I need to assess your strength to get the Magical Council to back off.”
“Why? You are the church, they are the heathen.”
The smile widened as they all stared at the vicar. “True, Abel, but we have an Accord. We try not to fight each other, or have private wars rampage through our people. The Magical Council is all about power, and limiting the amount other sorcerers have. New sorcerers, those who qualified since the rule was made, are limited to eight s
enior apprentices. A sorcerer, or,” he said, looking at Ferryl, “sorceress with as many apprentices as you seem to have could demand a seat on the Council and probably get it. My advice is don’t be tempted; it’s a cesspit. Knowing that, will you tell me the truth?” His trademark slightly supercilious smile appeared at last. “I think the truth will be enough to scare them glyphless. It will certainly back them off.”
“We’ll try. If we don’t like where you are going?” Abel shrugged and the vicar nodded his acceptance.
Creepio wasn’t kidding about wanting to know the full extent of their glyphs, though Fay didn’t take part. According to the vicar, the Council would have to be satisfied with his assessment of her as an accomplished sorceress. For the rest of them, while he didn’t want anything flashy, the vicar asked for small controlled demonstrations of some skills. Once he had what he wanted, the vicar moved on to the Taverners who weren’t present. He didn’t ask for names, though Abel, for one, felt sure he knew most, if not all of them. Instead Creepio seemed more interested in the breadth of glyphs taught, and the criteria for progressing. The idea of studying human biology before qualifying to learn how to heal themselves fascinated him, though he wouldn’t mention the idea to the Council. He agreed with withholding the part about extended life, so that those who never progressed that far didn’t feel deprived and bitter.
Eventually Creepio sat back and smiled, a big happy smile. “Definitely glyphless even if I won’t give them the details, or even tell them who is capable of what. I certainly won’t tell them you are giving away magic bars like penny toffees. I will just let the Council worry how these young people are progressing so fast because that should keep them wary. There are apprentices out there who would tear out their hair if they found out, which they won’t. Their masters won’t allow the knowledge to spread. Some men and women have given forty years of their lives and only just learned the first steps to self-healing, and have no background in human biology to help them. Others have never gone beyond air and maybe fire, because they are used as human batteries to fill up hexes to earn money for their masters. Your not-apprentices would tear through them like a fireball through a cornfield.” Creepio paused, laughing quietly. “I’m getting a bit carried away, maybe.”
“We wouldn’t do that, attack others.” Abel looked at his friends, who seemed just as startled. “We just want to be left alone.”
“After I report, you will definitely be left alone. The Council will use your refusal to tether anyone as an official apprentice as a fig leaf, an excuse not to challenge you over exceeding the permitted limits. Right now, your not-apprentices might not actually rip the usual apprentices apart, but in a year they will. In the meantime, the Magical Council will equate skill and control when casting some glyphs with much greater skill in the lesser ones. That’s the usual process, and why only senior apprentices would want to take on any of you four. Thirty of you? Forty?” He laughed again, obviously very happy with that idea. “Definitely glyphless.”
“Why are you so happy? Aren’t powerful people more dangerous if they feel threatened? Surely the Magical Council will be worried we are going to lead an uprising or rebellion, or just disobey them?” Jenny looked back and forth between the others. “That’s what happens in books or films, the chiefs or rulers lash out at any threat.”
“Not this time, and not just because we aren’t strong enough to actually threaten the Council. They are a collection of the most powerful magic users and any one of them could probably wipe us all out, but a sorceress has hundreds of years of life to lose so she is cautious.” Ferryl watched Creepio but she spoke to the other four. “One mistake and she is dead, or a bound servant, or a bound shade. Then all her years of learning, all her power and wealth, belong to someone else. Some of the most powerful sorceresses withdraw to strongholds, surrounding themselves with slaves, bound creatures and humans incapable of harming them.” Creepio nodded gently as she continued. “Now it has been put like this, I think I understand. A concentration of reasonably adept magic users like ours, uncontrolled, will stop any lesser sorcerer starting a war in case some or all of us align with the other side.”
Creepio bowed towards her while remaining seated. “Exactly. Peace, sorceress, blessed peace. While not individually powerful, thirty of you could easily tip most disputes one way or the other. If you are attacked, you may find others offering help just to gain your support elsewhere. I suggest asking Woods and Green to take some minor part in the legal affairs of your game and charity. Their clients are sometimes killed, but if the first strike fails, Woods in particular is well known for negotiating lethal combinations of allies so their clients usually win. They also tend to do well in the legal wrangling over reparations if neither side is wiped out. All for a hefty price of course.”
“So, this Council is using us as a sort of balance? That doesn’t seem a particularly clever idea, letting a bunch of uncontrolled amateurs get more and more powerful.” Abel looked from Creepio to Ferryl and shook his head. “They should stamp us out now, use their minions or whatever so they aren’t harmed.”
“Possibly true, if they could all agree, but some of them will not risk killing the master of Castle House. You are their first chance to get at whatever Celtchar left in there for over a hundred years. Rumour insists at least two Council members tried to get into Castle House and disappeared without trace. Now you have succeeded, but if you die before reaching the centre they may never find another blood relative.” He stood up and stretched. “I will apologise to your father, Jenny, for not including him in this discussion. I have explained that I had to assess the overall moral stance of you five, personally, and your game. He will be pleased to find that neither your personal beliefs nor the game are at odds with the aims of mother church herself. That is the truth as it happens, loosely speaking.”
“We get the church? To lease I mean.” Kelis came to her feet, a big smile starting.
“You get to meet the bishop to persuade him face to face, or rather Abel does. Your local bishop voted to watch and wait, so I am hopeful. He knows Father Curtis, personally. To show my own appreciation for your efforts with Father Curtis, I should mention that the sorcerer who once controlled Elmwood Park is long dead. His protection has lapsed, but Pendragon never bothered to take over because the only adult tree left has a dryad. You could claim the park for your Tavern? The other trees will soon be old enough for dryads, which means big enough to supply you and yours with magic.” The happy smile had a large slice of malicious. “Pendragon is unlikely to make a fuss about anything just now.” With that Creepio turned and walked out!
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“As usual, I had another million questions.” For once Kelis didn’t seem too upset.
The five of them turned to each other, smiling at Kelis’s usual complaint after any meeting with Creepio. “But we get a good report from Creepio, he’ll back off the Magic Council, and the bishop dealing with the lease likes us!” As Jenny finished, the Taverners came together in a completely spontaneous group hug. Even so Abel took care not to hug Kelis, or she avoided him, but right now that didn’t bug him as much as usual. When they parted Ferryl kept hold of Abel’s hand. “I enjoyed being able to admit what I am. Perhaps we can slowly let the rest of the Tavern know? Not that I am the one who lived in your arm, just the sorceress part. Then if there is trouble, I won’t need to hold back.” Abel squeezed her hand for yes, because Zephyr had them all connected now and Ferryl obviously wanted to keep this private.
“I win the sweepstake, I think.” Jenny pointed at the joined hands. “The reassuring hand holder strikes again.”
For once Abel just laughed, because the idea of an ancient magical being as a girlfriend was ridiculous. “I thought I’d try it with a girl who isn’t enchanted or being rescued.”
“C’mon Rob, try it.” Jenny took his hand.
“Maybe it’s an older woman thing. He’s been headed that way with you and Claris.” Kelis caught hold of Rob’s other hand
as they came out through the door and Jenny took Abel’s so the five ended up hand in hand. Creepio, about to get into his car, looked at them and then up at Zephyr and shook his head. This was how they usually faced him at Castle House. Laughing at his expression, the group split up and headed for the Mercedes.
At least Mr. Forester didn’t want details. He always claimed the actual game confused him, because his brain had already fossilised. Instead he seemed really happy about the church approving, and had done what Rob once suggested in jest. The vicar had apparently laughed when asked about advertising Bonny’s Tavern on church noticeboards. Mr Forester treated them all to frothy coffees, then turned them loose for an hour in town. According to her dad, joining Jenny in a walk around town would be an invitation to bankruptcy.
The walk didn’t take long, just enough time to get a couple of pieces of jewellery priced. The shop assistants should remember the gang of excited kids who’d struck lucky buying from a market stall. On the way back to the car Jenny confirmed that her mum loved the ring she’d been given for Christmas, but she didn’t wear it much. Probably worried she might damage the paste diamonds or wear off the gold plating, but that would soon change.
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Abel felt sure everyone else felt as tempted as him once they were home but they’d all agreed to break the news as casual comments, the following morning over breakfast. He cheated a little bit, getting up early. Once he’d made a bowl of porridge, it was porridge weather right now, Abel braced himself. Casual, he reminded himself, once again. “When we went to town, Jenny took a ring into a jewellers to get it priced.”
“For insurance? If we could afford insurance I’d have a job finding something worth putting on it.” Abel’s mum looked around the kitchen. “Maybe the TV and digibox?”
