by Vance Huxley
“Not all sorceresses would recognise a fursomnium, and witches wouldn’t. They are rare here, but more common around the Mediterranean. Keeping the bottom floors hexed would stop most other dangerous creatures, and be much cheaper.” Abel passed that on as the Taverners trudged back towards the house.
He stopped by Claris, sat on the grass with her head down and her shoulders slumped. “I thought you weren’t having anything to do with magic?” Two tear-filled eyes looked up at him, her eye makeup leaving tracks down her cheeks.
She turned to the others nearby. “I need a private moment with Abel, please?” Once Ferryl let go of Abel’s hand and followed the rest, Claris gave a big, long sobbing sigh. “That was the plan, to hide with the sleeping staff, protected by your friends and those hexes. Then I thought about what I was doing. I considered getting Rob to lend me his bat, but you started magicking swords.” Her eyes drifted to the sabre on the grass nearby then across the wreckage of the lawn, but she wasn’t really seeing it. “I watched helpless while that leech did things to me, made me do things, and then while you scared it into treating me better. I was just a passenger again when you tore the bitch’s precious lair and nest to shreds. I still didn’t do anything when you rescued the two seeded girls, or when you freed the father. Well, one thing, I gave up the spell inside me to help Jane Doe, and I nearly screwed that up.” Another big sigh shuddered out. “I dreamt my way through it all, and Ferryl healing my memories and body. Then once you got me free and healed, I ran away and hid from you all in Frederick’s house. But I can’t keep hiding.”
“You aren’t….” Abel stopped as Claris shook her head and kept going.
“I hid from you after being your girlfriend, then even in my head I hid from the memory of monsters and being helpless. I can’t remember any of it, not clearly, and don’t want to. You all came here to help Laurence but I wanted to do that again, hide until the danger was gone. I treated Laurence like shit but he forgave me, enough to treat me like a human being, but when he needed help I wanted to hide. Poor little helpless Claris, too frightened to even learn magic to defend herself.” With another of those sighs Claris looked back at the shambles where the fursomnium had died, but this time her shoulders straightened a little. “Well not this time. I still don’t want to learn magic, but now I know. I can beat the monsters.” A sad, hesitant smile peeked out of her tearstained face. “Though I’d like a magic machine gun for the next time?”
“A magic baseball bat?” That would fix non-magical threats as well, but wouldn’t get her locked up.
“You mean it?” Claris held out her hand and Abel helped her up. She bent to pick up the sabre. “In that case I won’t try to smuggle this home.” She leant on Abel and they followed the rest to the ballroom.
Some people were drinking or eating from the buffet, but most of them were sat or stood around completely wiped out. At least this room seemed almost untouched; other rooms looked like a tornado had passed through. Parts of the house had hexes scattered all over, or just a few chairs tipped over and a scuff on the wall.
“Damn. The rest doesn’t really matter now.” Laurence looked down at the remains of what must have been a large vase or urn. “Family heirloom, a real antique. That’s my wages gone for the next thousand years or so.”
“Maybe not.” Ferryl knelt and looked at the heap of pieces for a few moments. She held a hand above them, palm downwards. “Just now, freshly broken, the pieces know they should be together, how they fit. They’ve been together a long time. Not proper knowing or thinking, but they’ll just make sense if they fit a certain way.” She shrugged and stretched out the other hand. “Father taught me this because I was a clumsy child. Words don’t really explain it. So.” Glyphs floated down towards the pieces, then a few drifted away and returned with shards. “Like that.” Another cloud of glyphs drifted down, each one attaching to a fragment until a few floated aimlessly. Ferryl turned both hands until she cradled an invisible something and the pieces began to lift.
Nobody spoke a word, completely entranced as the shattered fragments and even bits of ceramic dust lifted and swirled around each other. They began to fit together, one or two to start with, then faster until with an audible click the last shard fitted into place. “Now to lock it.” Ferryl wasn’t speaking to them, she was far away in her mind or maybe the vase.
Abel, for one, jumped when Ferryl took a deep breath, a firm hold of the vase, and stood up. “There’s a tiny glyph inside the base now. It’ll be all right for a couple of months but feed it more magic when you’ve recovered and it’ll last forever.”
Laurence took the vase as if it was made of spun frost, very, very carefully, and placed it on a small table. He stepped back and let out a long breath of relief. “Thank you. Everyone go home and leave the sleepers. I’ll wake them up in the morning and take the heat. It’s the least I can do after that.”
“Not until I’ve talked to your trees. I want to make them an offer they won’t want to refuse.” Ferryl’s and Jenny’s eyes opened in shock, but Kelis narrowed hers when they met Abel’s and Rob nodded gently.
“You don’t mean one they can’t refuse, do you?” Kelis’s wry smile swept across the rest. “Abel won’t offer to burn them, though I’d love to know what the hamster in his head has come up with.”
“So would I. How much will it cost?” Laurence shrugged as the others looked at him. “I’ll find it somehow if you can fix this place before anyone wakes up.”
“If we fix the Taverners, fill them with magic, they can fix the place. With luck it won’t cost a bean, or even honey.” Abel smiled confidently and headed out of the door. “I’ll need you all to keep back so you can’t hear.”
“That’s got to be a clue.” Though Kelis didn’t try to work it out, or not out loud.
∼∼
Abel wasn’t quite as confident as he looked, because a lot depended on who the wind whispered to. As he approached the wood, Abel looked back and smiled. The Taverners had all come out to watch, standing in a group well out of hearing. Much closer, only just about far enough away, four people stood in a line. The other four Taverneers, his friends, ready to step in if he needed them. Abel swallowed the little lump in his throat, blinked away the sudden stinging in his eyes, and turned to the nearest adult tree.
“I greet you, tree and dryad. I bring a proposition that may be to your benefit.” Complete silence followed. Abel waited, then moved to the next adult tree and repeated it. At the third, branches creaked just a little. “I did not threaten. Any attack from you would be unprovoked, and fatal.” He kept his tone level, with absolutely no threat in it.
“Not if the attack works.”
“The four behind me would not be pleased. You already know that, unless the wind no longer whispers here.” Abel looked up at the branches above him. “Think about what the wind whispers of the Dead Wood, or what the goblins gossip about.”
Two deep brown eyes opened in the tree. “Goblin gossip is not reliable. Nor is the wind.”
“But both together? Perhaps the wind whispered of Dryad Woods.” Branches rustled on several nearby trees. “If there were time, I would ask Woods and Green to vouch for me. Unfortunately I am in a hurry, so I am willing to make a contract that Dryad Woods will consider foolish.”
“No sorcerer makes contracts with dryads.” A dryad came out of a tree further into the wood. “Just agreements they break when they feel like it.”
“Yes they do. I have a signed contract with Dryad Woods to represent me. Better still I believe any agreements are binding, signed or not. Ask the wind, I don’t break them. I have one with Dryad Sycamore to watch over Dead Wood in return for an adult tree. There will be other trees for its young when they ripen this summer. The dryads in a whole orchard protect my friend’s house from magical creatures, and we protect them from sorcerers. I have an agreement with three young Willow dryads. I am protecting them until they are strong enough to protect themselves. In return they will supply some
magic to help protect my village once their trees can spare it. There will be an empty tree there as well, for some lucky dryad seedling.” The rustling continued for some time, but Abel waited patiently.
“Why is this urgent? I would rather hear from Dryad Woods.” Abel didn’t have a chance to answer, the dryad in front of him butted in.
“Everything is in a hurry except the trees.” Its eyes moved to look past Abel. “Are they here to threaten?”
“No, they are asking you for help. You saw us fight the fursomnium?”
The leaves rustled a little, but not threateningly. “Yes, a very large one. I did not realise they grew to that size.”
“I didn’t realize what it was. Why isn’t the sorceress talking to us?” This dryad appeared from one of the trees that hadn’t answered Abel’s first offer. “She is stronger than you, so she should be the mistress.”
Abel glanced back for a moment. “We don’t have a master or mistress, because none of us is tethered or bound. The sorceress stayed back there because she can’t offer what I can. I am the master of Dead Wood and Castle House gardens, by blood and power.” The wood stilled. “That was not a threat, just information. I have also claimed the house, but have not reached the centre yet.”
A voice from deep in the wood finally spoke. “The wind whispered of the church sending their sorcerers, and a bound ogre.”
Abel chuckled, trying hard not to sound nervous. “I thought it might, in which case it spoke of the ogre leaving again without entering the garden. The church will not interfere, in Dead Wood or any of the other woods I own. Sixteen woods and two forests, where only I can decide if a dryad seedling can live or not.” This silence became so deep it almost felt like pressure. Somewhere an owl hooted, and something rustled in the grass nearby but nothing stirred in the wood. The silence stretched on and on, until few leaves rustled.
“What is the contract?” More leaves fluttered and rustled and branches thrashed and creaked, so not all the dryads wanted to negotiate. Abel waited until things settled down a bit.
“It can apply to one dryad, three dryads, all the dryads here, or none. None means that some of my friends drive me away, some hours pass, and I come back with what I need. That would cause trouble between a friend and his parents.” Abel sighed, deliberately loudly. “Then the foolish dryads would have many long winters to think of lost opportunities. Worse, when my friend plants new trees here, he will not look to this wood for guardians.” Abel would make absolutely certain Laurence didn’t, even if it hadn’t been mentioned yet.
“Magic, you want magic. How many trees do you expect to use, and for how many years must they supply magic?” This came from the nearest dryad as it stepped out of the tree. “How many seedlings will your friend make room for and how soon?”
That opened a whole new avenue to explore, but later. “Right now everyone out there needs magic, quickly. I will trade you a home for a seedling for each person who is helped, but you must allow them to top up themselves and their lead bars twice. One seedling for each diamond or gold belt you fill. If one dryad helps six people, six seedlings.” Abel took a deep breath, because he knew this would be the bit the dryads might baulk at. “But not here. The seedlings will be taken to other woods. You can still make the deal to help my friend in return for a home for your young in the future.”
The storm of thrashing and creaking went on and on, but Abel waited. Eventually it quietened enough for a dryad to be heard. “We will not give seedlings to a sorcerer! The only way to do so is as a shade, unless you can carry whole trees about.”
“Not so. Humans can carry saplings, and even larger trees.” For a moment Abel thought he’d got a convert but the dryad turned to him. “But I would not put my seedling in one and give it to a sorcerer.”
“Not even if Woods and Green organised the transport and the transfer to an adult tree at the other end?” Abel had expected silence, but the thrashing started again. Eventually it hushed to a rustling, then a few last creaks.
“An adult tree?”
Abel smiled in relief because one had taken the bait. “One never inhabited by a dryad or used by a sorcerer for over a hundred years. No need to wait for their home to grow strong.” He opened his arms to take in the whole wood. “There are enough for every one of you to send a seedling.” Abel had stressed adult, because seedlings usually moved into saplings and hoped to survive until the tree matured.
Though that still hadn’t convinced at least one dryad. “But we must give the magic now.”
“Yes. The urgency is why I will pay such a high price. But that’s it, no higher because if you say no I can go and get the magic tonight. There is only one dryad in the whole of Dead Wood, so I can drain every other tree if I wish.” Abel held up a belt, now almost empty. “I will fill this and others, bring them back, and fix the damage. The wind will laugh at you. Hah, even goblins will. After all, you risk a very small amount of magic against a large gain.” It was melodramatic but Abel took a good look at his watch. “Time is moving on. Human time, so it moves quickly. I’ll give you five minutes.” He turned on his heel and left.
Kelis still had a little smile when he reached her. “Well?”
“Five minutes. If not, the five of us and a heap of lead bars need transport to Dead Wood and we’ll give pebble glyphs to the drivers so they can help.” Abel looked past them to the rest of the Taverners. “The sleepers can be woken up much later and it’ll take some fast talking, but we’ll get there.”
“If we get some magic quickly, we could fix enough to wake up the sleepers but make sure they stay dopey and go to bed without looking outside? Regardless of what it felt like, killing that thing didn’t take long. It’s only twenty past ten.” Rob nudged Kelis. “You can put Emst to bed if you like. Tuck him up and kiss him goodnight?”
Kelis replied and Ferryl laughed. The other three looked baffled. “No fair. When did you learn to speak German?” Jenny smirked and nudged Kelis. “Exactly how long have you spent chatting him up on the internet and Skype?”
“I’ve just got more wits than Rob. Which isn’t hard.”
Rob just laughed at Kelis. “Maybe some of us have a better use for our wits than chasing Germans.”
Before Kelis could ask what Rob meant, Ferryl pointed over Abel’s shoulder. “I think you have an answer.” He turned to see four dryads standing clear of their trees in plain view. Another two appeared from deeper in the wood. “That looks hopeful. Now do we find out the deal?”
“Only the four of you. None of the Taverners can know the exact deal, just the result. Come on, you may as well listen.” Abel headed for the waiting dryads.
∼∼
Almost an hour later the sleepers woke up, though Ferryl made sure any that had been laid on the floor were mazzled more than the others so they didn’t remember that part. Some of the staff still felt tired and went to bed, but the ones on duty for the party just felt confused. The Taverners carefully arranged themselves before waking Laurence’s parents and the German cousins, then swung straight into the judging. The cousins soon took up wrangling over who would make the best companion for Kelis. Everyone knew Emst would get the job, which kept his mind off the time. The Taverners arranged for three young women to compete over being the other cousin’s partner, so he didn’t look at a watch or clock either.
Since the first couple were posing for the judges as they opened their eyes, neither did Laurence’s parents. Despite the mazzlement, Abel kept expecting someone to realise what had happened. Once the judging finished the sleepers were astounded at how time had passed, but decided it was because of how long each couple spent explaining their characters. The dance kicked off again after Friends in Fur, Eric and Petra as wolf-sorcerer and cat-sorceress, won. Remarkably most of the Taverners still had enough energy to dance. Two doses of tree magic seemed to be a good antidote to exhaustion.
Abel danced with Ferryl and several others, not his strong point so he didn’t do much of it. He avoided the s
low stuff entirely so he didn’t trample anyone, because he’d never learned any steps. As midnight approached Laurence’s parents made themselves scarce while Laurence turned on the TV for the countdown. A hand caught Abel’s and pulled. “Come on, it’s the last dance before midnight.” He smiled, because Ferryl actually sounded excited and she must have done this hundreds of times.
“Mind your toes. Or your boots, since you haven’t got paws like Petra.” Ferryl wore her leather boots rather than chase monsters in bare feet.
“They’ll survive. I’m pleased dancing is still in style.”
Abel took her hand, put his arm round her and froze. “Oh. Sorry. I forgot.” Because his hand had gone through the seeming, of course, and hit Ferryl’s bare back.
“I don’t mind a hand on my back. Neither do Una, Lovingly Sculptured, the frost giant or a half a dozen others with bare waists. Have you got a thing about skin contact?” At least Abel could see Ferryl’s face because they were the same height, but with those huge eyes and her whiskers he couldn’t tell if she was teasing or not.
“No. I just forgot. How come nobody else noticed?” When he thought about it, Ferryl had definitely slow-danced with others.
“Because I do this.” The smooth skin of her back suddenly tickled his hand. Maybe not quite fur, but maybe that was because Abel knew it wasn’t. “That’s air, rippling a little. It feels furry, doesn’t it?”
“Sort of. If I didn’t know it wasn’t, I’d be fooled.” He braced himself. “Right, dancing. You do realise I don’t know how?” Either Ferryl was very fast on her feet or Abel’s dancing was good enough, because he didn’t scuff her boots even once. Kelis swept past with Emst and winked at him, followed by Laurence and Jenny, but Abel stuck to slow and steady. The dance ended, Laurence turned up the TV and Abel counted down to midnight with the rest.
