by Vance Huxley
Within the week Rob had found places to put Tavern marks here and there in his home to drive most of the creatures out. Ferryl thought they would need renewing as he gained better control of magic, but there would be plenty of intent behind them. Rob had a lot of leaf-floating intent, but Abel wasn’t sure how often Rob practiced because he couldn’t feel any different tingles. He felt a lot happier now that both his friends were in on the secret, because Abel knew he’d need all the help he could get to ward the village.
He even managed to persuade Ferryl that Kelis needed bat-vision. Abel insisted at least partly because of how disgusted Kelis seemed around the creatures. Now he could see their magic glowing like a dim amber light inside them, most didn’t seem quite as gross to Abel. With her experience fixing Abel, including another minor adaptation he’d never even known about, Ferryl had perfected the procedure. Abel spent half that evening answering texts from Kelis as she watched glowing creatures fly and scuttle past her window. They still weren’t exactly pretty, but some of the browns became almost orange.
Despite or maybe due to their muddy green glow, Kelis still considered the slimy types utterly gross and wanted to learn how to squish them as soon as possible.
4 – Unwelcome Attention
The following Saturday brought a completely unexpected visitor. A man in a black suit stood by the gate into Castle House garden, not quite touching the remaining fence and inspecting the broken section. As he turned, Abel stopped, because the little white collar meant a vicar had come to investigate. Ferryl had worried about that, and a formless yelp in his head told Abel she wasn’t happy.
“You are going to enter the garden?” The vicar inspected Abel before continuing. “Yes, you fit the description. I could enter, but that might disturb something unpleasant.”
“It would! Don’t let him!”
Abel passed the message. “I’m told that would be a bad idea.”
“As bad as that was?” The churchman gestured towards the patch of bare earth and the gravel-filled holes in the road. “A dead tree, so a Bound Shade I would think. What activated it?” He frowned, inspecting Abel again. “More to the point what stopped it because, no offence intended, you do not seem to be capable.”
“Tell him worse than that.”
“I’m told what you would wake up is worse than a Bound Shade.” Abel decided there wasn’t any point beating around the bush if this bloke knew about Bound Shades and the barrier. “I had a pebble, a glyph for the barrier, and that woke up the tree. A stone guardian, a big one, stopped it. Luckily, I had a pebble glyph for the guardian.”
At that the vicar straightened, suddenly more intent. “Luck or planning?”
“Planning. I had very precise instructions, from the same person who warned me about what you will wake up.” Abel wanted to ask Ferryl some questions about that, as soon as he had a chance.
Now the man looked curious, and just a little bit wary. “May I test, to see if you have been bound? If something is using you to gain access to that house, I must interfere regardless of what I rouse.”
Abel braced himself for whatever came next. “Yes, if you agree to leave me exactly as I am now, and answer some questions afterwards.”
“Careful. I do not have to ask. Though since you have been courteous so far, I will agree.” The vicar pulled out a cross, and made some tiny hand gestures. The crucifix glowed gently, white or a very faint blue, and several small tendrils drifted out towards Abel. Abel felt a gentle wave of warmth, turning to icy cold as the feeling reached his ward before retreating. “You have a shy passenger, and a ward strong enough to hide it. Take care what you allow inside your defences.”
“My passenger has sworn by her true-name not to harm me, and to protect me. She needed a safe place.” Abel looked the vicar straight in the eye. “She has been a great help. More help than the church.”
“Perhaps it is lucky I asked before presuming. Your appearance is deceptive. Be very, very careful before entering that house because our records show that a great evil lived there in the past. If it persists and you release it, we may have to return.”
“Fair enough, but can we cut out some of the mystery please? Why isn’t the church looking after this place?” Abel pointed to a couple of fliers in the trees. “The village is overrun by creatures.”
“Your church closed because the believers dropped below the number needed to keep the ward, the cross, working effectively. At the same time, the reduction in their tithes meant the church could not support a vicar. That should mean there are enough unbelievers to support a witch and a local sorcerer usually deals with larger problems.” He cocked his head, suddenly very curious. “You understand the pact betwixt believer and unbeliever, magic and faith?”
“No. I’ve never heard of it.”
“Education today is going to the dogs. Worse, the magic users are not instructing new practitioners.” The churchman pursed his lips, thinking for a moment. “The church fights what you would perhaps think of as God wars, against other faiths. In return for their faith, prayers and tithes our believers are warded against magic, although we don’t tell them that. Magical creatures usually avoid the faithful, though such creatures can still cause physical harm if they overcome their fear. The church announced there was no magic, nor witches or sorcerers, and in return the magic wielders agreed to guard the unbelievers and stop the worst infestations.” His eyes drifted past Abel to Brinsford. “The fields near here are definitely infested. You have warded these homes?”
“Some, and I’m trying to protect the village and school. There’s no protection there either.”
“Stourton Comprehensive? State schools will not pay tithes or insist on prayers, so they are not protected. The lack of magical infestations is why Church Schools tend to do better academically. Coincidentally that means the faithful are better equipped to do well in their chosen career.” The little smile looked just a bit smug, while Abel knew he looked horrified.
“What about the faithful who go to the comprehensive? The food in the canteen is crawling with the things and students can’t get near it to draw a ward.” Abel frowned because he wasn’t sure about the next bit. “It can’t be hygienic.”
The vicar frowned and considered that for a moment. “I will make that point, but doubt it will have any effect. I will also report that this area has a warlock at least, unless you are the sorcerer and this is the witch?” His eyes narrowed. “Perhaps a bound apprentice?” Abel turned to where the vicar’s eyes were looking, to see Kelis approaching.
“Hi Abel. Is there a problem?”
“I don’t think so.” Turning back, Abel smiled at the man. “Kelis is definitely in charge of herself, and more likely to be the sorceress. She draws a mean glyph and learns faster than me.”
“Don’t learn too fast because if you turn loose something you can’t control, we will stop it. Your village will be badly damaged at the very least.”
“Can you stop the riddles please? Who is we?” Abel paused as he saw the slight frown. This vicar wasn’t used to that sort of tone. “Sorry, but we need to know what’s happening.”
“You, along with this young woman, are filling in a gap in the magical protection of England. That is a relief because there are too many gaps these days, especially outside the cities.” He bowed very slightly. “I represent the arm of mother church that deals with creatures such as Bound Shades if they are not stopped by the local practitioners. Such creatures are not deterred by a cross.”
“So if we get something we can’t handle, we call on you?” Abel could hear the relief in Kelis’s voice.
“Only in an extreme emergency because we are a very blunt instrument. There will be considerable collateral.” The churchman glanced at Castle House. “I came when a strange report mentioned this house, just in case it had been breached.” He seemed to be considering something. “Since this house is involved I will leave a card. Think very carefully before using it. Now, since this village does not need
my attention I really must go. You should repair that fence to reinforce the barrier, to increase any reluctance to trespass.”
“Neither of us can afford it.” Abel shrugged. “And neither of us is very good with a hammer and nails.”
The vicar brought out a wallet, and extracted several banknotes. “This should cover it. Mother church’s contribution to the safety of the local faithful.” He smiled. “I am sure your very shy passenger will know how to let the workmen enter to carry out the work.”
Ferryl didn’t make a sound while Abel accepted the money and a business card. “Thank you, Mr. or Reverend?”
“Vicar covers it. Thank you and goodbye, Abel and Kelis.” He turned, walked to a car nearby, and drove off.
“I had about a thousand questions left.” Kelis nudged Abel. “How much did he cough up? Is it enough for Rob’s tattoo?”
“What? Rob wants a tattoo?” Completely thrown, Abel looked from the notes to the fence. “What about the fence?”
“We’ll get cheap workmen. You can pay for that library book as well. Come on,” Kelis tugged Abel’s arm, “I want to know everything his holiness Mysterio Creepio said. He sounded like God’s SAS, or MI5.”
As Abel followed Kelis into the garden a very quiet voice asked,“Has he gone yet?” Once settled in the cave, on the milk crates they’d brought for seats, Ferryl explained that the church frightened her. The cross put out something that repelled her, though hiding behind Abel’s flower had stopped it, and the search spell. The three of them discussed the visit but it seemed that they were on their own again. None of them fancied calling in what the business card called a Peripatetic Archbishop, not if it could be avoided.
Abel finally remembered to ask, and Ferryl didn’t know what would respond if the church entered the grounds. Whatever roused would be much more violent and powerful than the guardian or Bound Shade. Ferryl had been badly hurt by the backlash when the sorcerer contained it, because he’d used her as a buffer. Whatever it was hated the church, a deep hatred, and she didn’t think it would care who else it hurt.
* * *
The mystery churchman must have spoken to someone because on Monday morning a cross hung from the wall of the canteen, behind the counter over the food, and nothing magical went near. As the geeks had their lunches, Rob passed round the new details of the Tavern game for the betas to try out. They included the meditation before a game with exercises for making a leaf float, and instructions on how to contact their sorcerer.
Though that puzzled Una, a beta who lived in town. “Where does this email go?”
“Ferryl Shayde, so don’t send spam.” Rob grinned while everyone else laughed at Una. Anyone knowing Rob’s email would recognise the domain, and assume he’d answer. Una shook her head in disgust and dropped the subject.
“Players might want someone to contact, to ask questions. We should have permanent bar staff at the Tavern.” Warren, one of the betas, smiled. “All Taverns have a barmaid.”
“She wouldn’t give out her email. If any of the staff do, I want a barman.” Una paused. “There aren’t actually drinks but we do need a help menu. When it goes out in the computer version the bar staff could answer queries.”
“Medieval, or sort of, so a barmaid and a bouncer as beefcake for Una?” Warren looked hopefully at Rob, who tended to be the hardest to convince.
“Probably, because it makes sense. We’ll try and work it in.” The rest of the betas seemed to like the idea. There were eleven of them now, five in town and six in various villages.
Warren wasn’t done. “The five of us in town want to get together and play, rather than use phones and emails or Skype. My parents have half agreed to let us use the front room if we keep the noise down. We probably won’t want to come in costume, not yet.”
“You’ve got costumes?” Abel stared as three of the betas looked a bit shamefaced.
Una didn’t, she grinned. “Robyn D’Ritche, at your service. Throats cut, tenants terrified, small easy wars fought cheaply, males in distress rescued.” Her grin faded a little. “We’ll need a Tavern sign of our own. Do we just draw one, or we could print one off if you send it in an email?”
“The Tavern sign has to come from the original Tavern, though of course yours will be free.” Kelis smirked. “Then when the game is sold, we get a little earner every time someone sets up an actual Tavern.” Abel wanted to applaud, because it also meant the Taverns would be really protected from magical creatures.
“Neat. How near are you to selling it?” Petra, one of the betas living in a village, inspected the sketch of the sign. “You’ll want something more than The Tavern. There must be thousands of places called that.”
Justin, another one from town, smirked. “Rachel, my sister, will want to call it after the barmaid. That will also attract more girls to play.”
“She’ll be Robyn’s half-sister which is why a mercenary would support the place instead of robbing it.” Una laughed at the looks from the rest. “Well I would, rob the Tavern I mean if it wasn’t for my half-sister.”
“I hope Santa doesn’t bring you a real sword.” Petra cowered away, then grinned, “If he does, I’m volunteering as barmaid to keep safe.”
“That’s agreed then?” Rob waited for everyone to nod and wrote it down.
“I’ve got another puzzle for you all.” Kelis winked at Abel. “May as well make them work for their money.” Everyone laughed since nobody had been paid. “A Tavern should protect their village. To do that they must ask their local dryads to supply magic from their trees.” She passed a sheet of paper to each beta. “In return you must persuade the dryads you can keep their young safe. This paper shows you all the problems, because we wouldn’t want it to be too easy.”
The buzzer went for lessons, and Rob collected up his notes and drawings. Abel had one last word for them all. “Good thinking on the barmaid and Tavern name. Everyone come up with a default name for the barmaid and we’ll choose the best at the end of the week.”
Various names came in over the next few days, though none had many supporters. Midweek, as the seraphims pushed past him, Abel felt one stuff something in his pocket. He looked, very carefully, but could only see a piece of paper. When he unfolded it, instead of an insult it read “Bonny the Barmaid” with a roughly drawn Tavern sign!
The seraphims sneered at anything the geeks did. Since there’d been no rude comments about the Tavern the betas assumed the seraphims didn’t know about the game. Now one of them had suggested a character. Neither Kelis nor Rob could figure out which of the seraphims knew about the game, but the name seemed to stick. Rob tried for Blousy after Kelis drew her, but Bonny she became as the betas voted during the rest of the week, and definitely the half-sister of Robyn the mercenary. Kelis even made them look a bit alike.
* * *
By then the original Tavern, in Brinsford, had another problem. Abel looked up from his homework as a distinct bell-like noise echoed in the night. Moments later Ferryl flew in through the window and poured into the tattoo. “Quickly, the trap. We killed or damaged something big.”
Abel dashed downstairs as quietly as possible, hoping the TV masked the noise, and ran up the garden. He could see where the trap had been sprung because several fruit bushes had broken branches, but he couldn’t see a creature. “Where is it?” The sound of Mrs. Tabitha, sat on a fence post spitting and hissing out into the darkness, answered him. “It got away.”
His right hand moved on its own, pointing to spatters of rapidly disappearing magic glowing on the bushes and fence. “It has left a trail. Quickly, after it.”
Half-way over the fence Abel thought to ask “What is it? Is this a good idea?”
“No time to test the residue. Maybe our mystery watcher, or a really strong test. The trap hurt it so not too tough. Better yet, it is injured and leaving a trail, but we must follow before the leakage evaporates.”
With his bat-vision Abel could see well enough in the dark to avoid stumbling. By
the time he reached the other side of the field and scrambled through the hedge, Abel felt pleased he’d built up his stamina. Though now he wished he’d picked up something warm to wear while on the way out of the house. The running wasn’t quite keeping him warm enough, and his hands were definitely getting numb. “If we keep going my hands will be too cold to form a glyph.”
“Create a small flame glyph, very small. It will warm your hands. I told you the practice while moving would be useful.” Ferryl sounded excited, caught up in the chase, and a fierce exhilaration filled the next words. “It is close, and weakening. We have it!”
Sure enough the trail looked thicker, clearer, and Abel finally saw a stumbling centaur-like shape ahead, four-legged with an upright front half. He pushed himself hard and a pale, desperate face glanced back as the creature heard his pounding feet. A mistake, the creature stumbled and fell, rolling back to its feet but instead of running it turned. Four long thin arms unfolded to each side and Abel stopped. “A spider?”
“No, but similar in shape at first glance. Try to break its arms, but be careful. The fangs are not poisonous, but it eats carrion and will infect you.”
“Its arms? Why don’t I just kill it?” Abel formed a tight wind glyph and knocked one of the creature’s legs away so it stumbled. As the creature rose he could see one of the other legs bent sideways. It wasn’t supporting any weight, which explained why the creature stopped running.
“May I have your hand, please, to find out what it is? We have finally cornered a servant because these creatures should hide in dark places. Something drove it to invade Brinsford.” Ferryl had lost that excited edge now, and sounded cold and calculating. “If you break its arms we can capture it and make sure it gives up its secrets.”
“No binding.”
“Agreed. I do not understand some of the magic involved here, so you do not want it inside you.” A little bit of impatience crept in. “If I could have the hand, please? You could break another leg with the other hand to make sure it stays?”
