Faerey Normal

by brett hicks

  The voice was masculine and a bit high-pitched and very raspy compared to the smoother British accents I had heard. Casey sighed and rested her head on my shoulder.

  “Great, you just pissed off a real Manchester football buff!”

  I strained my eyes to the side to look at her features.

  ‘Should I be worried about the fact that a vampire is right next to my carotid?”

  Casey shrugged nonchalantly into my body. I had a few girlfriends who didn’t bother me when they crowed my personal space. I was surprised that I felt so relaxed around Casey, purely because of my general aversion to being clingy. Don’t get me wrong, you show me to Johnny Depp and I would cuddle with him any day!

  A couple of fits of laughter and even a few angry voices carried into the dining hall. I winced and murmured, “I think I might want to high-tail it before they decide to string me up from the rafters.”

  I grabbed my two small cheeseburgers and my drink and I made for the door. Casey picked up her large thermos and followed without question or complaint. I still wasn’t sure why she followed me around, not that I minded the company or the solidarity.

  “You might be safer if you stay a little further away from me. I seem to be radioactive in this world.”

  I told her in a conversational voice as if we were just discussing the weather. Casey spread her hands and then waved me off.

  “Whatever, Colonial solidarity mate!”

  I snorted at her terrible attempt at sounding British and we giggled as we walked out into a warm and airy courtyard. Heady scents of summer and humidity tickled my nose. Today I had felt every season with all my senses and it was a bit jarring. Feeling the summer heat seemed to sooth away some of my discomfort, since it had been summer when I arrived here.

  Casey and I ate in relative silence and enjoyed the natural beauty of the sunflowers and the other various oversized plants. She had found us a spot where the shadows obscured her from direct sunlight. While she did not burn up in the sun, she did seem to shy away from it.

  After half-an-hour in the courtyard, she looked noticeably tanner. I realized that her skin was extremely sensitive to solar radiation. Not deadly per se, but just morbidly easy to burn in the sun.

  She didn’t seem to mind the heat much since the actual sunlight was not directly touching her, but she did have a few beads of sweet on her brow now.

  “Sorry, next time we will find a better, cooler spot. That was totally lame of me!”

  Casey waved in a vague gesture.

  “Nah, you have no idea what vampires can and cannot do. I will not die in the sun unless you were to tie me to a stake and leave me to bake in the sun all day long. That would kill me.”

  I muttered, “That would kill pretty much anyone.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  “Yeah, that whole tying people to stakes thing was invented to kill my kind in a very excruciating manner.”

  That sent a shiver down my spine. Faereys seemed to be cruel by nature, or at least as far as I have seen thus far. I had no idea how other vampires behaved, but Casey seemed to be cool and controlled. She was more humane at least than the others here. Maybe their humanity is part of what repels most other species?

  “So, where does a girl go to sign up for soc… football?”

  I asked, barely catching myself from my American slip. If the reaction from the guy in the dining hall was any indicator, then I would best learn to call soccer, football. Or I would probably end up being beaten within an inch of my life by soccer hooligans!

  Damn, this is going to be harder than I imagined!

  You try retraining your brain to use a word that it does not want to supply for something! When I think of football, it is the New England Patriots, not soccer! But American football is one of our biggest pastimes! That would be like trying to make a Canadian call hockey ‘football’! It wouldn’t work and would likely result in a brawl!

  Casey shrugged and said, “I think you just show up, not sure. I have been here since I was twelve, but I do not go looking for the field activities. That is way too much sun for my taste or my health.”

  I nodded my understanding.

  “Do you know where the… football fields are at least?”

  She nodded in confirmation.

  “Yep, however, I’m not going out there until after dark and practice starts in the light. I can draw you a map or something, will that do?”

  I grinned brightly and nodded.

  “Sure th… um… that would be very nice of you.”

  Casey snorted and murmured, “This whole faerey thing sucks, huh?”

  I snorted and nodded my agreement while I took another bite of my burger. At least a cheeseburger seems to be a very international thing. A burger in England seemed to taste every bit as good as one in America.

  “You’ve been here three years already?”

  She hummed in confirmation as she chugged the rest of her blood. Casey whipped the rusty color smearing her lips and she exhaled in deep relief.

  “Gotta love some type-A for lunch.”

  I muttered, “I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

  She chuckled and bumped my shoulder with hers playfully. She was somewhere between my tomboyish behavior and Jazzy’s extremely feminine and girlish demeanor. Casey seemed a little tougher outwardly than Jazzy, but she did sort of remind me of my best friend in some ways. Maybe this was what kept me so close to her side today? Either that or it was just that I loathed the prospects of facing this school alone.

  The bell rang again and Casey waved for me to follow her as she popped up and made a beeline for the shadowy entrance to the north-eastern quarter of the castle. This was the area that was magically and physically designed to represent springtime. The seasonal segmentations of the castle were becoming obvious to me.

  I was also beginning to see the overall theme in the layout. There were patterns mirrored in each of the four quarters of the castle. The halls and corridors ran the opposite direction but in a symmetrical pattern of twists and turns. Even the main common area in the flowery springtime halls was the mirror image of the winter version.

  The classrooms seemed to be of exactly the same size and shape. With a little practice at navigation, I would soon have the blueprints mapped out in my mind. I might not have a perfect memory, but I had a good natural sense of direction.

  “What’s next?”

  I asked in dread as we were finding seats in the back of the classroom. Yep, we were those girls. Sitting the hell out of dodge was as good an idea as any right now, besides fighting the entire student body. Which, I might add, is a very tempting option considering all the not so hushed gossip about me.

  “This is Glamour studies.”

  My eyes widened and I frowned.

  “We just had magic class!”

  I might have sounded a little petulant and just slightly disconcerted with the prospects of another class filled with leers and sneers.

  “Glamour and other types of magic are not the same as one another. You’ll see.”

  Casey smiled at me and I arched my brow high in question as our teacher walked in. My heart nearly fell out of my chest.

  “Daddy?!”

  Everyone looked at me and then back to the radiant and handsome form of my father in all his faerey glory.

  Ten:

  Casey looked at me with wide eyes. And she whistled lowly and muttered, “Dear God, take me home with you!”

  I cut her a glare and she shrugged unapologetically.

  “Sorry, not sorry?”

  My father smiled and I could literally feel the heat of all the feminine hormones in the room.

  Great, just great! What could possibly be worse than watching my classmates undress my father?! I just had to jinx myself into this!

  “Greetings everyone, I am Professor Maris Edwards. You will call me Mr. Edwards, or Professor Edwards,”

  His eyes narrowed slightly and transfixed me, “No matter who you are
, or your relation.”

  That coldness was still infused through my father like he didn’t give a single damn about me!

  “I have been requested to fill the post for Glamour magic since the last instructor seems to have been detained by the human police.”

  Okay, that didn’t sound sketchy at all!

  What are the chances that my glamour professor was randomly arrested on the same day my father arrived here in Cambridge? Not very likely at all! My father’s green-golden gaze swept across the fortyish students in the neatly arrayed classroom and he smiled brightly. His humor and good cheer seemed to be ever-present, but there was a coldness and a calculation to his eyes that I had only seen once before now. He seemed to put up a chilly sort of bladed armor around his heart like he was incapable of ever feeling any true warmth.

  The other students didn’t notice this, but they didn’t know him as I did. What seemed to be his warmest smile to them was like the tundra to me. My life felt like it had been plunged into a dark expansive void and I could see no way to backtrack to the warmth and comfort of the first fifteen years of my life.

  All of this passed through me in the span of moments. My confusion had not subsided, but my weariness had filled my heart overflowing with reserve at having my father here. His goals and his motives were now as suspect as any being I had met inside these walls.

  Yet again, I felt the call to find my bed—wherever it may be—and cry my eyes out.

  If you had asked me the day before, if I would ever feel truly uncomfortable around my father, I would have ardently sworn that nothing said or done could change my relationship with him. Maris had been my rock—my constant in life. He was the one truth and I knew he loved me more than life itself.

  Now, I can barely manage to look at my father without feeling conflicting emotions. Whatever the purpose of my existence, I was now hell-bent on changing it! I refused to just become his faerey pawn daughter if that’s what I was to him.

  Still, how could everything he said and did be a lie?! How could a man pretend so completely for fifteen years? Why had he chosen to hide in America and what exactly was his conflict with this Empress I keep hearing about?

  “Class, you are here to learn to manipulate mist and glamour magic. I want you to throw away everything you think you know about glamour. We will be starting from the fundamentals and basics.”

  I heard a few groans of annoyance at my father’s proclamation.

  “Mr. Edwards, how is it you can be here? You are wanted for treason by the Empress. Why should we listen to anything you have to say?”

  That came from Dylan, the winter Sidhe I had been lusting over just a little while ago. His eyes held a fanatical edge of loyalty to this faceless person I kept hearing of. My father smiled at him and his eyes danced with mischief.

  “You believe you are capable of seeing through my illusions?”

  Dylan’s eyes hardened and he shrugged.

  “I don’t see anything impressive about your glamour. You are just a note-worthy swordsman with a single trick.”

  Didn’t he sound a lot more impressed with my father’s prowess when we talked earlier?

  I wondered to myself and I wasn’t sure if anything I had heard was real. Mist dissolved from the front of the room where my father had been standing and now only a pale-blue mist remained and began to spill out into the room, dispersing back to nature.

  The class all sucked down an audible breath and my father was nowhere. I felt the mists swirl around and I turned on instinct and I saw green-golden eyes wink at me. I watched as the misty form walked the classroom.

  “Where am I right now Dylan Weatherbee? Can you find me?”

  I frowned and I whispered to Casey, “Why are they looking around? He’s just hiding in the mists.”

  My father’s gaze cut to me and a mild annoyance played on his expression like I had killed some of his fun.

  “Well, can you see me yet, Mr. Weatherbee?”

  My father silently stalked up behind Dylan and he formed a sword from the mists and tapped it on his shoulder, causing the younger man to jerk back in response. My father chuckled and the mists dispersed again and I lost sight of him. Before long, I felt them reforming and I frowned.

  I knew this man very well, what was his game? He’s letting me see him…

  Or is he? Illusionist is what they call my dad.

  “I don’t think that’s him. Maybe we should check outside the classroom?”

  I spoke aloud, surprising myself as much as everyone else. The door opened and my father strode inside and he winked again. Something like pride shone in his eyes for a moment, but then he was inscrutable.

  My dad looked at the rest of the class and waved his hand in a sweeping grandiose gesture.

  “Do you still believe you can learn nothing from me, Mr. Weatherbee? You cannot fight that which you cannot even find. As your queen has proven for the past fifteen years, so my affiliations or lack thereof, are not what’s important. Take what you can and learn from me.”

  Dylan shrugged and he slumped slightly in his seat.

  “Regrettably so, it would seem.”

  He said in a sour tone and he scowled at my dad. Maris was unaffected by the young man’s negative opinion of him.

  “Mist and glamour have many levels of varying complexity in their applicable magical ability. The deeper you dive into the mists, the better you can understand them and the better you can shape them.”

  Someone raised their hand and my father pointed to the girl. She looked like she was at least part turtle.

  “Professor Edwards, why do faereys need to rely on mist glamour, when we have our own innate magic?”

  He smiled back at her and he nodded vigorously.

  “A very good question but let me answer with a question of my own. If you become one with the mist and you waste no magic, then how much more magic will you still have in reserves, just to protect yourself in a life-threatening situation?”

  Murmurs swept through the class and even Dylan seemed to be listening now.

  “The mists are our natural ally in this world. We who can shape the mists have not only survived but thrived throughout the centuries. It is often better to work smarter than harder. While those with raw power hold an edge, learning how to be one with the very fabric of the natural magic world, is the best way to hone your skills to the sharpest point.”

  His eyes landed on me and his lips quirked into a cocky smile.

  “I must confess, my demonstration was cut a bit short, but I should have expected her eyes to spot my deception. At least we now know your eye for magic is as good as I could have ever dared hope for.”

  I bit my lip and I looked away, not sure what to do with the random public praise he was giving me. Yesterday, I would have hugged my daddy in any public place and beamed at him for his praise of one of my skills. Today, I was on guard and under constant suspicion of faerey deception.

  I thought I saw some sadness flash through his expression, but it was gone so quickly that it might have been imagined.

  “I want you to pair up and spend time just playing with the mists. You and your partner should discuss everything you feel and experience. Remember, magic is more than just a tool and hopefully some of you will begin to understand the true implications of my words.”

  Casey and I paired off and we found a spot outside our classroom with a thick fog of red and blue mists. Living with this new magical sight of mine was a lot like living in San Francisco at the dawn hour when the mists are thick, except someone has tie-dyed everything into the groovy sixties rainbow of colors.

  In short, magic was a lot like a very wild trip—not that I did drugs!

  “So what exactly are we supposed to be doing?”

  I shrugged and waved my hands toward the clingy red mists that were inching towards me as if by some magnetic force.

  “I think we just play in the mist, literally. One thing I do know for certain about my father is he is pretty dire
ct about his wishes. All deception aside, if he suggests something, he means it very literally.”

  She nodded and she seemed to want to ask more, but Casey stopped herself. She had a pretty good idea that I was in a very fragile state of mind. My father was one of the many things that were currently crushing my mind with thoughts of betrayal and abandonment. He was still physically present, but I couldn’t trust him. Hell, I couldn’t really trust anyone, anymore!

  So, I just let the red mists cling to me tightly and I felt the dampness of their touch. It was like wrapping a lukewarm wet towel around my arms. What surprised me was the feelings or imprint of emotions from the mists. They were echoes, but I felt things from them. The mists either had feelings, or they once did. I wasn’t sure which of these were true. But now I understood a bit more about the strange magical substance. It was not intelligent per se, but it was not an inanimate object either.

  “I see you’ve made your first discovery.”

  I looked up to see my father towering over us. Casey seemed to go wide-eyed at his nearness. I tensed and pulled back a bit. He seemed unflappable and he looked like the lord of faereys he had once been.

  “Are the mists alive or do they hold some kind of emotions from those they touch?”

  I asked, too curious to contain myself. Maris nodded and his smile became broad.

  “They were once something of physical shape and form. The mists of magic are the echoes of the plants, animals, and even people who have passed on. We all return in one form or another and so does our magic.”

  I frowned and I looked at the red mists around me.

  “Why take on a misty form like this? Why not try to re-manifest one’s self properly if there are still emotions lingering inside them?”

  He nodded and he sighed.

  “Some do try to manifest and that is generally not very pleasant. The mists are natural, but the darkness can become things of nightmares. Both are the echoes and remnants of the dead.”

  I bit my lip and frowned.

  “Why do they keep clinging to me?”

  His lips twitched into the beginnings of a smile.