Ferryl Shayde

by Vance Huxley

  Abel used his left hand to knock the creature over again with a wind glyph, because breaking a leg seemed too much like torture. As he did, his right hand moved and he saw a glyph reach out. Not fly, the glyph left a trail very like the mist link Ferryl used to talk to Rob and Kelis, and attached itself to the creature’s pale chest. Abel could now see the upper torso looked close to human, but with the details smoothed out as if wrapped in thick bandages. The long, multi-jointed arms, fanged mouth and four eyes in a row across its forehead weren’t even close to human.

  “Kill it, now!”

  Ferryl’s voice seemed strained so Abel didn’t ask why, just lashed out with a fire glyph without worrying about control. A flare of flame swathed the creature and it collapsed, the long upper limbs thrashing briefly until they stilled. As the fire died the remains smoked and bubbled, rapidly disappearing. The smoky link had gone. “What happened?”

  “A trap. I should have expected it in one of Aryadne’s hounds. She tended to spin more than one web. It is too long since I saw them and this one should not exist.” Ferryl seemed to be talking to herself now. “The wrong place and the wrong creature. The last were supposed to have died in Greece, and it had strange magic infusing it.”

  “Can I have that in English please, Ferryl, and perhaps go home? I’m freezing.” Abel turned to look back, surprised at how far he’d come. “Wonderful, I’ve run halfway to Stourton.”

  “The town is the other way because the hound headed towards the hills. It will have been living in a cave.” Ferryl sighed and grass rustled. “I will explain as you walk home. You did well to run it down.”

  Abel thought the deep gouges where the fruit bush trap had torn at it probably helped. Still, he had run a hell of a way, maybe a couple of miles cross-country though as he trudged back it seemed more like ten. As Abel plodded along Ferryl explained that Aryadne the spider-woman goddess in Greece had trapped and enchanted men as guards and hunters, her hounds. Aryadne had faded, long ago, and all her hounds were supposed to have died as well. Someone had kept one alive, not an easy task, or preserved a body and raised it which should be impossible as magical bodies dissolved with death.

  “Whatever or whoever sent it is testing both the barriers and you. If you or I had been alone and tried to investigate as I did, we would have been snared and possibly died. I’m not sure what the snare would have done, but I couldn’t break it.” Ferryl stayed silent for a little while. “Our opponent does not know about me, because if I had my wits I would have broken that easily and followed the magic back. You are the target. Someone wonders who you are, how strong or experienced.” The next pause went on for longer. “You cannot control proper protection yet.”

  “So I just keep hoping the thing doesn’t get me?”

  “Better than just hope. There are three of you now, and I am your hidden surprise. I promised to protect you.” Though Ferryl wasn’t relying on that. “Trying to get free has reminded me of another glyph, a very minor one. It may help.” On the way back Abel practiced the new glyph, one to make it harder for another spell to attach itself. It wouldn’t stop such attacks entirely, but made him slippery to magic as near as Abel could understand.

  Abel had to knock on the door to get back in because he’d forgotten the spring catch on the door and it had locked behind him. At least his mum had no idea how long he’d been out there, but didn’t seem convinced by Abel’s claim that he’d seen the fox again. Abel spent time practicing really controlled fire glyphs to help warm up his feet and hands and then tried to get back to French homework. Ferryl could have done it, but he wanted to actually learn some of the language even if it wasn’t his main option.

  The following day Abel told Kelis and Rob, and both promised to call for help before chasing anything. Kelis pushed again for some sort of offensive glyph, and this time Ferryl promised to start training at the weekend.

  * * *

  As much as Kelis wanted and needed protection in her garden, Abel couldn’t take Ferryl in there to bind the bushes together. Kelis’s parents seemed a bit paranoid and there were security lights fixed in among the trees and bushes which would react to anybody trespassing. Kelis had taken to walking around along the edges to get her parents used to the lights coming on, but she found security cameras so she couldn’t even pin up signs. Inside the house she’d hidden drawings of the Tavern shield in the kitchen and pantry, laminated so they didn’t get damp, and drawn one on the underside of the dining table.

  Meanwhile the betas worked on the game and another new character. Champ, a retired bareknuckle fighter, became the Tavern bouncer. Answers came in for the other question, with some suggesting marking trees with the Tavern symbol to protect a village, without asking. Could a dryad prevent it, and would the symbol use tree magic to become more powerful? With a little smile, Abel promised a reply on Monday because he’d have to ask a tree. Everyone laughed of course. On the way home Kelis offered to try it on a tree at home, but Abel told her to be patient. She still wasn’t totally convinced that dryads existed, because none of the ones in her garden would respond when she spoke.

  All three of them were busy for the rest of the week, because the school cleaners went on a purge and removed at least half the protection along with a lot of other graffiti. That meant lurking in corridors and near entrances until there weren’t many people about, not easy without skipping a lesson and then they’d be conspicuous. The three of them decided to keep trying during breaks and not risk being caught skiving. The school forbade eating anywhere but in the canteen, or the three of them might have missed a rare challenge to Seraph’s authority.

  “Get your hands off!” The entire canteen turned to see Jenny jump to her feet and glare at Henry, sat next to her. “I’ve told you, I don’t want a boyfriend, and definitely not you. Hold Claris’s hand, she might even like it.” Claris, a bubbly redhead, shrugged and smiled so apparently she might.

  Henry flushed as he saw everyone watching. “But Seraph said you liked me.”

  “I said you were cute in a sort of pet bull way. That is not wanting to hold hands.”

  “Jennifer Tremain, you should sit next to Henry and be sociable. As an Acro dancer it would be right to have one of the rugby team as a boyfriend.” Seraph smiled. “Now the two of you should smile, hold hands and make up.”

  Jenny stood for long moments and Abel could see her hesitating. Jenny couldn’t have much awareness of magic if any, or that tone would have made her sit straight down. The whole canteen had quietened, watching, until Rob suddenly spoke up. “I can’t understand you telling Jenny to sit. Henry yes, because he really is a bad dog and needs housetraining at least. Hey, Jenny, I know it’s a really bad choice but you could sit here if you like and you don’t even have to look at me.” The canteen dissolved in laughter and the moment had been broken.

  “Thank you Rob, but I’ll just sit at the next table. They won’t insist I take up IT as an option and play weird board games.” Though Jenny smiled, so she meant it as a joke. Someone pointed to an empty chair and she sat down at the next table. Seraph and Henry, and most of those at their table, glared at a completely unfazed Rob. After a few moments, everyone else in the canteen returned to eating or their own little conversations.

  “I knew it. Another sucker has fallen to a leotard, a big smile and a well-practiced athletics routine.” Kelis’s grin widened as Rob slowly blushed scarlet.

  “I have not, didn’t. I just wanted to wind Henry up and that Seraph is a pig. Anyway, I’ve spoken to Jenny’s sister a couple of times and she seems all right so Jenny probably is.” He grinned. “She’s not too stuck-up to talk to me.”

  “Diane? Cradle-robber, she’s only fourteen.” Kelis glanced at a group across the canteen, at the infant in question.

  “I said I talked to her. She asked what we were all looking at, who the pictures are so I told her about the game. She wants to try it if we want more betas.” Rob shrugged. “I said I’d keep her in mind.”

  “Bu
t then her sister would know the details, and tell that Seraph about it and the whole lot of them would start taking the mickey.” Abel held up his hands as everyone looked at him in incredulity or humour. “All right, they already do. We’ll see.”

  “We could do with some betas who aren’t geeks.” Rob left it at that.

  Seraph didn’t wait. She stood by the canteen door until Rob, Kelis and Abel left. “Robert Tyler, you should be ashamed of yourself, embarrassing Jenny like that.” She frowned a little and lowered her hand before rubbing it with the other one.

  Rob knew all about the binding thing now, and the truth of Abel’s arguments with Henry. “Seraphim, or is it Cherrybum? I always get them mixed up. You shouldn’t talk to people like that. Henry, yes. People, no.” Henry pushed forward, as expected, and Rob held up his hand and waggled a finger. “One brick, Henry?” Behind him Abel and Kelis recognised a cue, and raised their hands to waggle a finger.

  Henry hesitated, obviously trying to figure out if all three could have learned whatever Abel did, and then a voice cut in. “Perhaps if you cleared the doorway, any students who actually wanted to go to lessons could get through?” Mr Beresford, the PE instructor, didn’t look even slightly amused.

  Rob smiled happily. “Come along children, our work is done.” He headed off down the corridor with Abel and Kelis pressing in on each side.

  As soon as he thought they were out of hearing, Abel whispered, “What are you doing, idiot, trying to get thumped?”

  “I found it very funny.”

  Rob didn’t hear Ferryl, luckily because he certainly didn’t need encouragement. Though his face had now lost the smile, almost. “Do you know how many years I’ve been putting up with Henry or his brother pushing me into puddles or hedges, making me squeak, or stuffing frogspawn down my back? It’s so long I can’t remember him not doing it. Well, you saw how he just backed off from one wiggly finger.” His smile grew again. “Better yet, Seraph looked as if she’d been sucking frogspawn.”

  “You do remember Abel ended up with a broken hand, Rob?” Kelis thumped him gently, “You put years on me just then even if yes, Henry backing away from waggling fingers has made my day.”

  “Just don’t walk down empty corridors on your own, Rob. You have to get control before you can learn,” Abel grinned, “wiggly finger-fighting.”

  “So I can learn?” Kelis forgot all about tweaking Rob. “I’ve already got control.”

  “It might be a good idea after that. I cannot protect all three. Not unless I break Henry’s legs first?”

  Abel had opened his mouth to put Rob off, but put like that? “Ferryl says yes, but you’ve got to promise not to burn off his arm or throw him down the road.”

  Rob stared. “Bl.. curses, I really must work on that control thing. Throw Henry down the road?”

  The other side of him Kelis now wore a wicked smile. “I can be controlled as long I get to inflict excruciating pain.”

  * * *

  Some of Rob’s euphoria wore off by the time school finished. More disappeared when Tyson stopped his car to let Henry talk through the open window. “I’m watching you three from now on. There’s something weird about all of you, and I’m going to find out what. Then I’m gonna feed him a brick.” He pointed at Rob, wound up the window and Tyson drove off.

  “I could burn a wheel.”

  “No.” That would leave Henry and Tyson on foot between them and the village, and could end up with Ferryl finally getting her excuse.

  “What?”

  Rather than mention Ferryl’s reaction, and give Kelis ideas, Abel stuck to Henry’s comment. “No, Henry can’t feed anyone a brick. Well he can, but only if he catches one of you outside the village on your own.”

  “Or at night. You should escort Kelis and Rob home after Tavern meetings until they can defend themselves.” When Abel passed that on he had to suffer Rob accusing him of wanting to walk Kelis home to kiss her goodnight, and Kelis insisting it was Rob that Abel had designs on. In spite of the humour, both of them seemed relieved. Rob even admitted that perhaps he’d gone over the top, but still enjoyed it.

  * * *

  Sunday morning Abel found out just how much trouble Henry could be. A stretch of hedge he’d spent long hours magically weaving into a barrier had been damaged by creatures. Only grazers so not a probe according to Ferryl. Even so the sheep-sized, multi-legged egg shapes had blundered into the glyphs and wrecked them. Abel had barely started repairs when a familiar voice called out. “Oy, squeak, sod off.”

  Abel stood up and carefully erased the few lines he’d drawn in the dirt. Despite Ferryl’s assurances, years of being thumped meant Abel felt nervous as Henry made his way across the field. “Just walking in the countryside. It’s a free country.”

  “Not here it isn’t. You are trespassing because this is Dad’s land.” The youth hesitated, staying well back and his hand moved to stroke the other one where Abel had burned him. “I saw someone out here the other day, but didn’t recognise you. I’ll know in future, and I’ll let Tyson know. Now sod off, and stay away.” Despite Ferryl frantically pleading to be allowed to singe just a couple of Henry’s fingers, Abel left without a word. The land belonged to the Copples so nothing he said or did would make any difference. Ferryl’s anger came from frustration as much as anything, because without any repairs the traps and barriers would quickly break down.

  Abel cheered up a bit after dinner, because this would be fun. He’d arranged to meet Kelis at her gate, but refused to say why. “Would you like to talk to a tree?”

  “I’ve got trees here, and believe me they aren’t conversationalists.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, then opened wide in delight. “A dryad? Where? Now?”

  On the way to the village green Abel suffered the torrent of questions and complaints that trees never talked to her. He tried to smile enigmatically, refusing to say more than “patience, grasshopper” which just made Kelis worse. They sat down on the plastic sheet he’d brought, because it had been raining, and Abel produced his secret weapon.

  Torn between a scowl and excitement about the dryad, Kelis restricted herself to punching Abel’s arm, being careful to miss Ferryl. “Honey! I should have known. You didn’t find that pot last time, did you?”

  Answering while laughing might not be diplomatic, but Abel couldn’t help himself. “Hush. When meeting dryads be polite and respectful, and bring honey. Ferryl, do you need me to take off my jacket so you can talk to the dryad or Kelis?”

  “No Abel. I can look through your eyes.” The tendril of mist that connected to Kelis came through Abel’s jacket sleeve.

  Facing the tree, Abel wiped the smile from his face. “In that case, let’s get started. Greetings, Dryad Horse Chestnut. This is Kelis, and Ferryl is here of course. I would like to trade honey for answers.”

  Two brown eyes opened and Kelis gasped. “About time. I have almost forgotten the taste. Why do you call me after my tree?”

  “I don’t know any other name, and using names is polite. That is a free answer.” Abel heard a little giggle from Kelis. “Would you create the veil, please? I will pay with one spoonful.”

  “Still polite. Very well, one large spoonful. Please. Abel.” The chill swept over Abel so he knew the veil had been put in place, and told Kelis. As the shoot grew out to empty the spoon, bringing another gasp from Kelis, the dryad continued. “We rarely speak, so have little use for names. I will not give you mine, because a sorcerer might be able to use it. Chestnut will suffice for good manners. The spoon is empty.”

  “Kelis would like to ask a question.”

  “Hello Chestnut. Why won’t the trees in my garden talk to me? Oh, er, bother, that wasn’t the question.” Kelis glanced at Abel and shrugged slightly.

  “It was a question. You have not approached them politely, and spoken to them with enough respect. More important, you did not offer them honey. They will be unhappy because you have driven iron into them, and cut away limbs.” The brown eyes s
witched back to Abel. “One answer.”

  Abel proffered the honey then blurted out “How? How do you know about cut limbs and iron, when you tell me dryads don’t talk to each other?”

  “Sometimes my branches brush against the nearest tree, or my kin come out to talk in the quiet times. We all hear whispers, hints and rumours from the creatures that pass through and around us. There are six of us close together here so we can gradually piece together what is happening. A large answer.” The last bit sounded decidedly smug, though suddenly the dryad’s voice had more edge in it. “I still don’t really trust you, because you damaged a tree and will not heal it.”

  “What tree?” Abel sighed and once the spoon had been emptied he scooped a small amount of honey. “A small question.”

  “The one in your garden. It is a young tree, which you claim you will protect, in which case you should start with that one.”

  Abel had fixed bushes, but Ferryl claimed the trees in Castle House gardens couldn’t be straightened. “This is not a question for you. Ferryl, can we do that?”

  “The tree is small enough to grow straight if held. Unfortunately there is nothing nearby that we can tap, even in the summer when the flowers grow.”

  “There is wood.” An odd creaking might have been humour from the tone of the next part. “It must be catching, I am speaking without thought.”

  Abel waved the spoon. “If you say which wood, that is definitely worth honey.”

  The dryad’s eyes followed the spoon. “Cut wood driven into the ground. Use magic stored in there.”

  “The fence? Not a question.” Abel turned and saw Kelis staring at him.

  “So does that mean…?” Kelis turned to the tree. “Not a question for you, Dryad Chestnut.” She turned back. “There’s magic in fence posts? Did you know that, Ferryl?

  “No, though some sorcerers used wood for magical constructs so maybe they did know. The knowledge may be…. elsewhere.” Abel remembered that Ferryl didn’t want the dryad knowing she had lost her wits. “Any magic in dead wood must be buried deep, or I would sense it.”