by Vance Huxley
“Don’t worry, we’ll get them back. We’ll have to or Kelis will be taking the Glyphmistress title.”
“Hah, I think not. Control, you still need control.” Ferryl plucked three fae from the sky with one hand-wriggle which definitely cheered her up. The three humans squished them, with two of them trying for control and one just swinging as hard as possible. Targets were getting scarce because the magical creatures of Brinsford, the unpleasant types at least, had definitely got the message and were scattering across the fields. Some of the more benign weren’t running, but they were crouched down in shadows and keeping very still.
The three of them crossed the bridge, and paused. “Pick a tree, Rob, and offer her a sweetie.” Kelis eyed up the young willow trees. “Do these class as children?”
“Greetings, Dryad Willows. We bring sweet things, but no honey.” Abel had barely finished before all three of the willow trees started rustling their leaves, and decidedly human faces appeared in the bark. The two female ones smiled at Rob and Abel, the male one smiled at Kelis.
“Yes, that’s what I meant! What do I do now?” Rob looked triumphant.
“Offer her sweets. Then you might get a better look.”
Rob didn’t seem to notice the definite humour in Ferryl’s reply. “Right. Here, do you have a preference?” He held out a hand with half a dozen sweets on it.
“We wouldn’t know. We never get anything here, across the river. The old trees over there find sweet things left by human children, or are old enough to have holes for bees.” The woman’s head came out a little further, long hair falling to mingle back in with the trunk. “Let me see?” Rob took a step nearer.
“Ferryl? Is he safe?”
“Yes, and this way he will see the dryad himself. The mark will protect him from a young dryad, but I would like to see how well it works.” Abel thought about it a moment, but Ferryl wouldn’t risk Rob. She had given him the same assurance as Kelis about not harming anyone bearing Abel’s mark. Meanwhile a long limb, looking very much like a slim arm, reached for Rob’s hand.
“May I look at your sweets, please?” The male version smiled at Kelis. “If you step a little closer, we can talk properly?”
“Yeah, right, said the wolf to the little piggy. Let’s just see...” Kelis’s words were cut off by a sharp screech, and when Abel and Kelis looked at Rob a little puff of smoke drifted up from near his hand.
The limb reaching for Rob quickly withdrew, trailing smoke, and the face on the tree trunk suddenly looked craggier. Anger blazed from the pale yellowish-green eyes, and a jagged rent opened where the mouth had been. “Why did you do that?” The dryad became clearly visible, long and willowy but not remotely human.
“What did you try to do?” Ferryl’s voice had some definite edge to it. She continued in a voice Abel barely heard, almost the swish of a gentle breeze, “Exactly what I expected and the mark worked very well.”
“Just tried to take a little magic.” The willow dryad sounded petulant. “Humans have so much, and leak magic all the time.”
“The older dryad in the horse chestnut is polite and enjoys the rewards. Good manners work much better.” Abel remembered what Kelis had asked about age. “Are you children, young dryads?”
“Not old, but the three of us together manage to survive. A little more magic from anywhere will help. We do not get much chance for either sweetness or magic here.” Her branches rustled. “I suppose that means I get no sweetness.”
“You answered a question. Give her a sweet please, Rob.” Rob glanced and Abel nodded, so he unwrapped one and threw it on the ground near the tree. A slim, definitely not human shoot reached out and explored the treat.
“This is good!” After a long pause, the dryad’s eyes went to each human in turn. “Thank you?”
“I could answer a question?” Both of the other dryads were clearly visible now, and the one that had looked male moved a little closer. “I have only heard of sweet, never tried it.”
“I know as much as you do.” The third dryad looked straight at Abel. “I did not try to get you closer.”
“One sweet each, then we will ask questions.”
Although the dryads didn’t exactly crowd anyone all three moved a little closer, a definite answer. None of them bargained well. The three of them had moved here together, and there had been four. That one had been taken by a creature they did not have a name for, because the fourth tree stood too far away for them to help. The fourth tree, another willow tree a little smaller than these three, remained empty. When Abel asked about the village barrier none of them could spare magic for anything just now, not until the trees were stronger.
Abel turned at a new, gloating voice from the fields. “This will be a bonus for my mistress. Three young dryads, in trees without enough magic to protect them.” A harsh laugh followed. “She had been told this village would be unprotected, and thought that at Samhain we would not be noticed. She sent us to see what might be taken.” A ragged human and a huge rough-looking dog stood in the nearby field, watching. “Stand back, humans. We will not try to enter your village.”
The mist connections from Ferryl to Rob and Kelis disappeared. “Best if I am invisible.” Though Abel’s fur stayed intact.
“The dog talked.” Abel tried to sub-vocalise, but needn’t have bothered.
“Ferr… Abel, why is the dog doing the talking?” Rob took a step back towards the bridge. “Not talking, but the voice comes from there.”
“Tell him neither is talking, their mistress is and she has a stronger link to the wolf. They are Bound Shades, but not like the tree. These are linked to their mistress’s tattoos, and have no life outside that.” Abel opened his mouth to ask if the two intruders frightened Ferryl like the vicar had, but she answered after a fashion. “They may not realise I am here, so I will be a surprise if they attack you.”
“We’re not giving up the dryads are we, Abel?” Kelis glanced over, then went back to watching the Shades with one hand poised for glyph-throwing.
“No.” Abel quickly explained what the two creatures were and Kelis looked a little less certain. Rob looked definitely worried now.
“Do not be foolish. Our mistress is content with three dryads for one night’s work. If you fight she may decide on three bound humans, especially a warlock and two trainees with some magic skills.” The dog and the man moved a little closer, and the man raised his hand.
“If he starts to form a glyph, hit his leg with wind, hard.”
“I’ll have to make a wind glyph and he’ll have started.” Abel barely breathed the words and hoped the pair couldn’t hear him. “My finger drew fire on my hand for hunting.”
“Can you remember the glyph for wind?” Abel laughed out loud because that one had imprinted on his brain after all the times he’d imagined it under the dust or gravel. “Advanced glyph wielding, first lesson. If you can imagine the glyph well enough, you can use it. Size is the amount of magic and intent, not the size you draw it.” Ferryl chuckled. “The training has uses though we might need a solid glyph for the wolf.”
“How?” Abel meant the glyph but everyone looked at him so he smiled at Kelis and Rob. “I’m wondering how these two are going to bind anyone when they’ll be scuttling back home.”
“Carve one on Rob’s club?”
“We have time?
“No, now!” The man’s hand had started to move and Abel lashed out, trying to keep the glyph tight. Perhaps the tension wound Abel up because he put a lot more than expected into the magic, and the man’s leg flew out from under him. He stumbled, and before he could recover a less concentrated blast of wind from behind Abel struck and the Shade fell. Ferryl sent a concentrated blast of something straight into the sprawled Shade, and he called out in a woman’s voice and began to shrivel.
“Yeah…..” Kelis’s shout of triumph tailed off as the wolf leapt forward, its eyes shining and a glyph forming in the air in front of it. Abel tried for a leg, but although the animal
stumbled it kept coming. The wolf’s glyph shot forward straight at Abel, but his right hand wriggled just in time though he felt the shock as Ferryl’s defence absorbed the hit.
The wolf felt the shock as well, slowing, then it fastened its jaws on Abel’s right arm. He could feel pressure, but the teeth didn’t go in. A paw came up and tried to claw at Abel’s left arm before sliding off without damaging his sleeve. Abel felt a stab of cold as his mark deflected whatever the distant sorceress did. Wind from the side battered at the wolf and Abel but it clung on, though its teeth still didn’t go into Abel’s arm. “Knife. Non-magical attack.” Ferryl sounded strained, pre-occupied, but Abel heard the urgency.
Abel grabbed the knife, but it took him three tries to scrape the plastic cover off against his leg because Ferryl still had his right hand. Abel began to worry as he felt the pressure on his arm increase and now the teeth were sinking into his dressing gown arm. More wind, a double hit and better concentrated, smashed into the wolf and knocked it sideways a little. Abel took his chance. He didn’t think the short blade would do much damage, then a little smile touched his lips because Abel had memorised two glyphs.
Kelis had moved right up close now, trying to throw glyphs two-handed to keep the pressure on, but she had started to tire. Another blast, scattered and not very strong, must have been Rob trying to help. Abel slashed at the head trying to bite off his arm, because a thrust wouldn’t go deep. Smoke billowed, stinking of burned hair and meat while the wolf stopped trying to bite and screamed. Abel dropped the knife before the glowing blade melted through the handle to his fingers. The jaws on his arm drew back a little allowing Abel to place his palm on the wolf’s head, while mentally forming another fire glyph.
As smoke gushed out under his fingers a loud crack sounded, light flashed, and the wolf staggered back on three legs. Rob followed the beast, taking another swing and another flash lit up the rounders bat as it hit the wolf, staggering it again. “Get him back. Quickly.”
“Rob, back, now!” Rob hesitated but stepped back, just in time as the wolf rallied and lunged low at his legs. It pulled its head back again, avoiding another blow and stood, head low, one front leg up and a long bubbling slash across its face right through one eye. Smoke still rose from the charred stump of an ear, where Abel had placed his hand for the second fire glyph. Rob stood by Abel’s shoulder, bat raised, and Kelis moved up on the other side, hands outstretched to throw glyphs.
No pretence now, a woman’s voice came from the wolf. “You can’t protect the dryads for ever.”
“Wind, leg.” Abel understood immediately, hitting the unwounded front leg as hard as he could. The wolf went down on its knee, then Ferryl took over completely and Abel leapt forward, scooping up the little knife. The wounded creature fought back onto three legs but another blast from Kelis caught it, not a strong blast but enough to stop it recovering fast enough. Abel, or Ferryl controlling Abel, hit the unwounded leg with a fire glyph and then thrust with the knife. Abel saw the knife glow again as she drove it into the wolf’s head between its eyes and twisted, scooping as she did. Another, louder scream split the night and the wolf dropped, starting to shrivel.
Abel, or Ferryl in Abel, straightened and dropped the glowing knife. “Is that it?” Kelis sounded tired, and very cautious.
“Yes, tell her yes. You had to send a warning to the sorceress.” Ferryl sounded really wary, unsure. “Now the sorceress will be in great pain and will not be back for some time, if ever.”
“What did you do? Can you let the other two know as well, please?” Abel turned, realising as he did that Ferryl had given him back control of everything. “All over, Kelis.” A moment later they were in a three-way hug.
“Did we kill it?” Rob sounded jubilant. “Did you see what this little bat did?” He hesitated. “How did it do that?”
The mist tendrils reconnected all three. “The ward. It was carved into the wood by Abel’s hand and direct will, not drawn with a finger or with paint. What I told you about glyphs works very well with hexes. Better than expected. Belief and intent.”
Abel remembered what Ferryl said about taking him over. “So why did you stabbing it have such an effect?”
“Ferryl did that?” Rob’s shock turned to humour. “That explains why you didn’t fall over.”
“I know why Ferryl took over, to kill that thing. She sure hurt it, going by the scream though that didn’t sound like a wolf. Too human.” Kelis sounded shaken. “I kept throwing air but the glyphs were getting weaker. I want to learn fire.”
“You used up your spare magic so you would have no fire either. The magic will come back with a little rest. I’m not sure if what I did worked properly, not until the body has gone.” All three turned to watch the last of the wolf bubbling away.
Kelis stared at the shrinking mess. “Body? So we did kill it?”
“No, neither of them because both are already dead. Repairing them will cost the sorceress magic and time, but…. Good, it worked. May I have a hand, please?”
“Yes.”
Abel’s hand pointed. “There, the small piece of stone, or possibly bone. Bone! I have taken one of her wits!” Ferryl sounded triumphant. “I may not have all my wits, but I remembered that!”
“What?” Three voices sounded as one.
“Sorry. A Bound Shade is just that, a shade, a dead spirit. Unless bound within something else, with magic to sustain it, a shade must always be attached to the sorceress. For the Shade to throw magic she, the sorceress, must feed magic through the connection. To cause physical damage she must use a little of her physical self.”
“That biting seemed physical enough. Though the claws slid off.” Abel tried to work that out. “Surely clawing is physical?”
“A typical sorcerer mistake.” Ferryl chuckled. “If she had left the claws to do their work they would have drawn blood, and the wolf would have bit into your arm. Most sorcerers automatically add magical enhancement to physical attacks, which means your ward could help repel them.”
“What about that glyph it used? You stopped throwing magic after that.” Kelis shrugged. “I’m sure you could have, even with Abel’s arm in its mouth.”
“The wolf glyph tried to attach to Abel but the slippery spell helped me to resist, more than I expected.” Ferryl sounded puzzled. “I could not throw glyphs because I had to fight the wolf glyph, stop it invading. Though that gave me time to think, to work out what she did, that she had to be vulnerable.”
“It didn’t look very vulnerable.” Abel inspected the small tear marks on his sleeve where the teeth had gone in.
“The glyph from the wolf had no hand forming it. It could be a memorised glyph directly from the sorceress or a solid glyph placed within the Shade. Similar to the glyphs in the dead tree Bound Shades.” All three humans nodded, though still struggling to understand. “I realised she would not risk trying to remember such a complicated glyph while controlling two Shades in a fight.”
“That carved glyph there, she sent it inside the wolf? Put it inside that thing before it left? Kelis stared at the tiny piece of what Ferryl said might be bone.
“Not put inside, it physically stayed with her but linked directly to the Shade, a very close, tight link. It is hard to explain, difficult to accomplish, and rarely done because there is a weakness. Even the physical must remain attached to her, as does the wolf unless killed. Killing the Shades will hurt her because of the tiny part of herself included in them. In addition, she has lost the magic used to form them, so she will be weakened.”
“How badly hurt? I hope it really stings, and hopefully bleeds!” Kelis glared at the wisps of wolf still evaporating.
“Serious burning at least, but that is the least of her worries now. That glyph is literally cut out of her bone, and anything else will pale in comparison. Seeing Abel’s knife glowing brought the knowledge back because only a red-hot knife will reach through the Shade link to the origin.” Ferryl suddenly became very formal. “I ask forgive
ness for taking control despite the promise I made by my true-name. There was no time to explain or ask. I know I should only do that when you are in danger, and the wolf was about to leave.”
“No problem. I understand, and that really was brilliant.” Abel glanced sideways and smiled at Kelis. “Still the true Glyphmistress.” Kelis stuck out her tongue and relaxed a little.
“Maybe. It helped that the sorceress and Shade were distracted.” Ferryl’s laugh echoed in their heads. “Distracted? She will not understand how a little bat hurt a Shade, Kelis kept throwing air blasts too fast to dodge or stop, and then Abel gouged out an eye, all while she had her magic locked in battle with me.”
“Not a real eye!”
“No, probably, though she will be in great pain and not seeing properly just now.” Ferryl sobered. “She may still send something for the dryads. Sorceresses are well known for keeping threats, it is a matter of both pride and status.”
A plaintive voice interrupted the explanation. “Help us. Please? We are sorry for being rude. Here are some sweets back again. Do you have a tree somewhere else we can go to? Even a little one?” All three dryads had come right out from under their trees, limbs extended with partly dissolved sweets resting on tangles of tiny twigs.
“Will the trees on the Village Green help, or in Kelis’s garden?” Abel eyed up the distance. “It’s a long way to lay a feed for magic. Can we go through the water or must it go over the bridge?”
Kelis knew he was talking to Ferryl, but tugged Abel’s arm. “We could put them in a potted plant? Take them to the wood or your mum’s garden, to the maple?”
“I doubt it. Look at the size of them.” Rob scowled at the one that had tried to fool him.
“I doubt they will fit in a plant much smaller than those trees. Certainly not in the damaged maple, and it is only one tree.” Ferryl’s sigh rustled. “We are too far from a large tree, even if they would help another dryad’s seedlings.”
“We can walk a little way. Across the bridge?” Away from their trees Abel had lost track which belonged where, but one now seemed to be spokes-dryad.
