Reggie & Ryssa and the Summer Camp of Faery

by Bo Savino

Chapter 9: Teammates

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  Ryssa threw herself onto a small, plush couch in the common area. Her mood was so black that thunderclouds could almost be seen gathering over her head. Equally disgusted, Reggie marched to the boys’ room at the left. He opened the door to see a spacious sleeping area that held eight beds. On one of the beds were the bags he had brought with him to Faery. He suddenly realized that he had forgotten all about them when they had hopped on the dragonflies. Jet appeared behind him, and Reggie turned with a questioning expression.

  “Nope.” Jet flashed a charming smile. “I can’t take credit. That would be one of the Brownies, I suspect, deciding to take a hand in watching over you.”

  “Brownies?” Reggie took a cursory look through the bags. Everything seemed to be there.

  “You know, Brownies.” Jet appeared confused. “Little brown folk, no Court affiliation, come and go as they please, figure you-can’t-live-without-them kind of people?”

  Reggie shook his head. Jet blew out a long breath of air.

  “So how are you at pulling late nighters?”

  “Late nighters?”

  “Yup, ’cuz kid, I’m thinking we need to have a serious information exchange going on here.”

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Reggie grinned. “A little Q and A with emphasis on the A.”

  Jet laughed. “Aurelius has his reasons for holding back, you know.”

  “Which would be—?”

  “The same reasons he had with Moira and me—and with Hammie. Moira and I were in pretty much the same boat when we started coming here about four summers back. But because of our, well, unique abilities, I think we were encouraged to learn more by our foster parents in the Zombie Zone than you and Ryssa probably were—or even Hammie for that matter.”

  “Zombie Zone?”

  “The mortal world.” Jet smirked. “It’s a term Moira and I came up with to describe people who wander through life on auto-pilot. They count on technology for everything and don’t even realize they’re disconnected from the magic. Heck, they don’t even realize magic exists. By denying it, they are denying what makes them truly alive. Zombies—that’s what they remind us of.”

  “Are there real zombies in Faery?” Reggie thought about some of the nightmarish creatures he had seen and couldn’t even begin to describe.

  “Not as such, no.” Jet laughed. “But Moira and I are big fans of horror movies out in Zombie Zone. It’s kinda where we got the idea for the name.”

  “I like it. Though I have to admit, I’m feeling pretty dead-headed myself right now. My brain’s on overload.”

  “Maybe we should wait on the Q and A then. I know how overwhelming it can be at first.”

  “No way! Overload me! Actually, I think the reason for the overload is too many disconnected pieces. I need pieces that might make it fit into some sort of weird sense.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “And I’ll let you know before the gray matter starts seeping out my ears, deal?”

  “Deal.” Jet flashed another grin. “Let’s go back and join the others. Some of them have been here all of their lives—they might be able to explain things better. Besides, this will be the getting-to-know-you time Aurelius wants us to have.”

  “Yeah, back to that. What were you saying about the reasons he has for holding back?”

  “Yeah, that,” Jet grunted. “Other than the main reason to send us away, for protection, Aurelius thought it would give us an edge in the upcoming competitions.”

  “How so?”

  “When you grow up around something all your life, you lose a certain perspective. Experiences, prejudices and the people around you—they all warp and shape how you view things. Coming back to Faery with fresh thoughts, fresh ideas—a fresh look at something very old and ancient—Aurelius hopes it will help us come at things from a different approach. He tries not to give us his opinions on Faery, so we don’t fall into the trap of attempting to continue with the tried and true that seems to have become more and more tried but less and less true.”

  “Makes sense in a bizarre sort of way,” Reggie said. “He’s looking for change. How Unseelie of him.”

  Jet blinked before letting loose his laughter. “Don’t let him hear you say that!” he gasped between small fits of chuckles.

  Reggie couldn’t help but get caught up in Jet’s amusement. The two of them laughed their way back into the common area.

  When Reggie and Jet had gone off to the boys’ room, Moira sat down on the couch next to Ryssa. They sat in silence for a moment until Moira finally spoke.

  “Why the long face?”

  Ryssa looked over and started in surprise. Moira’s face was halfway morphed into a longer version of her original features. Ryssa thought it looked like the girl’s face had been stretched over the top of a horse head. Moira batted her eyelashes. “You seemed lonely. Just thought I’d join you.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of Ryssa’s mouth. She attempted to hold onto her mood, but found she couldn’t. Against her will, the giggles started. Moira joined in, a horsey nicker escaping distorted lips. Her eyes widened in surprise and she covered her hand over her mouth with embarrassment. While Ryssa watched, Moira’s face shrank back into itself. She gave an awkward grin.

  “That was cool!” Ryssa leaned in to examine Moira’s face. There was no trace of horsiness left, only the girl’s natural beauty. “Can I touch it?”

  “What? My face?”

  Ryssa nodded.

  “I guess.” She shrugged. “Nobody’s asked me that before.”

  “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude.”

  “No, I can tell. Go ahead. Knock yourself out.”

  Ryssa reached up and touched the girl’s cheeks and forehead, pressing lightly. She brought her fingers to her own face and probed it the same way.

  “It doesn’t feel any different.” Her eyes lit up with a thought. “Will I be able to do that, too—I mean, after I learn magic?”

  A snort came from the other side of the room. Ryssa glanced over to see Pyro, Jr. eyeing her with scorn.

  “You don’t know anything, do you? She’s a Phooka.”

  “Half Phooka,” Moira ducked her head, embarrassed, “on my father’s side.”

  Pyro, Jr. shrugged. “In for a pinch, in for a punch.” He turned his attention back to Ryssa. “Phookas are of the old dark magic lines, you moron. If it weren’t for her mother being from the House of Stoneheart, they would have been banned from Court. As it is, their mother was exiled. Interaction with any kind of dark magic isn’t allowed. Phookas are the embodiment of dark magic—they are malicious and mean and full of pure spite.”

  A tear slid down Moira’s cheek and Ryssa felt her anger growing. “If Phookas are mean and spiteful, I’d like to know how much Phooka runs through your family lines. You might as well get used to working with Moira and Jet—it’s the only way we’re going to win this competition.”

  “Win?” Pyro, Jr. glared at her. “You don’t honestly expect to win with this bunch of losers? Half-breeds, morons, dimwits and infants—the whole lot of you. I might not be in the competition by the end of the summer, but I’ll be quit of this group soon enough and back with the real Faery.”

  Pyro, Jr. headed toward the boys’ room, brushing past Reggie and Jet without apology. He slammed the door behind him. Everyone just sat there, not moving.

  “Don’t suppose we’ll get the chance to vote him off the island, eh?” Jet waggled his eyebrows. The team members who had spent time in the mortal world fell into a fit of laughter at the reference. The others joined in with the contagion that lightened the mood of the room.

  “Oh, well,” Jet gave a theatrical sigh, “it was a thought.”

  Ryssa reached over and gave Moira’s wrist a reassuring squeeze. Moira acknowledged it with gratitude. “Thanks.” She hurriedly brushed away the tear before anyone else could notice.

  A familiar feeling of pressure filled the roo
m and then lessened.

  “Okay,” Reggie blurted, “here’s one for the Q and A—what is that thing that keeps happening? The pressure thing—what is it?”

  Jet’s eyes locked with Moira’s for a brief moment.

  “First,” Jet addressed the others in the room, “let’s give everyone a head’s up on the sitch and let them decide whether they want to throw in their two cents worth, or throw in the towel.”

  The team’s full focus was now on Jet.

  “Okay, ’mates. I, for one, really want to give this competition the best we’ve got. I’m sure a lot of you feel the same way, for whatever reason.”

  He acknowledged the tentative nods of the group before continuing.

  “You’re all aware that Reggie and Ryssa here, have just come onto the Faery scene. But here’s the worst part. They’re joining our Team with pretty much zero info—zip, nil, nada. We need to bring them up to speed so we have a chance to win.

  “Now, I’m thinking that as the kidlets of the late Ard Ri and King of the Seelie, it’s possible we might have a couple of ringers here—some real hard hitters. But if they don’t understand the tools they’re using to hit, it isn’t going to do us much good. So I was thinking a little Q and A—Question and Answer session—might strike a starting point for them. What do you think?”

  “No pressure, right?” Reggie said dryly.

  “No pressure at all, royal boy,” Jet replied with amusement.

  “I’m in,” one girl piped up.

  “And me.” Hammie appeared anxious. “But I’m still learning, too.”

  “Let’s do it,” another boy added.

  Everyone gathered in various seats and chairs around Ryssa and Moira. Jet and Reggie sat on the arms of the sofa next to their siblings. Reggie noticed that even Meek moved closer to lean against the tree sculpture in the center of the room.

  “Okay.” Jet glanced around. “I’m not sure how we want to go about this, but I know these two have been given chunks of info here and there that aren’t fitting together to form a complete picture for them yet. So how about we let them do the asking and whoever has an answer can just jump in?”

  When mumbles of agreement came, Jet continued, “I’m going to start with the first question our boy Reggie here just asked, because I think he can get himself into real trouble by not knowing the answer.”

  There were some very vigorous nods of agreement.

  He turned to Reggie and Ryssa. “In Faery, because of the impulsive and quirky moods of the creatures and people who deal with magic on a daily basis, there are strict laws that bind us. They keep us in check—stop us from running amok with the power of magic and messing up the natural order of things. The Earth won’t let us upset the balance too much without spanking us like the children we are to her.

  “Because of this, each member of Faery, once they figure out the way their hearts work, align themselves with either the Seelie or Unseelie Courts and take vows on the use of their magic. Vows and promises are the backbone of Faery. When a promise or vow is made, the Earth shows its acceptance and holds the maker to that promise or vow. That’s the pressure you feel—it’s the Earth accepting the promise and letting the person know they will be held to it. Most are honest enough to follow through. Those who try to wriggle out of it are punished.”

  Members of the group shuddered or closed their eyes at the thought, leaving the impression that the punishments were quite horrible.

  “So to sum it all up,” Jet looked seriously at the two, “never, ever make a promise or vow you don’t intend to keep.”

  Reggie thought about the vows made by both Mary and Queen Medwyn and now understood the weight of the pressure. They had made some pretty heavy vows. Then he thought of Moira and what had just happened.

  “What about now? All I heard Moira say was thanks. That’s not a vow or promise.”

  “Not in the mortal world, maybe,” one girl piped up.

  Reggie examined her beautiful light green eyes and rich brown hair, trying to remember her name.

  “J-Jade’s right,” Hammie stammered. “People in the mortal world take gratitude for granted. It’s expected. In Faery, when people say thank you, they actually mean it.”

  Jet gave him a kind smile. “What Hammie’s trying to say is that to thank someone in Faery is kind of like saying you owe them one—and trust me, be it a week, or a hundred years, it will be remembered and called upon.”

  Ryssa looked at Moira, who smiled warmly. Unable to help herself, she leaned over and gave her a hug.

  “And just a quick note.” Jet raised a finger in warning. “Don’t even think about thanking your Brownie for doing things like cleaning your room, fetching stuff or whatever. They don’t want the responsibility of your gratitude. It insults them and kinda makes them testy. They’ll leave, and once they do, another one won’t come anywhere near you.”

  “Brownie?” Ryssa was confused.

  “Sort of like private, invisible maid service,” Moira clarified. “They’ll even come into the mortal world. Voila. No more having to clean your room or a whole bunch of other chores.”

  “I could get used to that.”

  “Hey—I just remembered,” Reggie snapped his fingers, “at our birthday party, when we made a wish and blew out the candles—we felt the pressure then. Is that the same as the vows and promise thing?”

  The others in the room fell silent. Jet was the first to speak, but not until a long pause had passed.

  “You made a wish and the Earth accepted?” His eyes were big. Then he laughed and did a little jig. “Woohoo! I knew you two were going to be heavy hitters! That’s an ability that hasn’t been seen since the time of Dana.”

  “So the wish is going to come true?”

  “As long as you never speak of it until after it comes to pass,” Moira warned. “If you speak of what you wish for, it’s too much like bragging that the Earth and its magic are at your beck and call, and the magic could be taken away from the wish.”

  “What’s the next question on your list?” Jade asked.

  “Well—” Reggie started.

  “The Houses and the magic,” Ryssa cut in. “We should probably have a clue about how that works.”

  “Okay, the Houses,” Jet mused out loud. “Well, there are thirteen Houses that are directly tied to the magic. So let’s start with the magic first. Anybody care to give it a try?”

  A boy with aqua-colored hair and matching eyes spoke. Reggie thought about it a minute—Seacalm? He thought harder. Loo Seacalm. The boy’s features held the dreamy quality of one who sat and watched the waves for hours on end.

  “There are seven different kinds of magic in Faery,” Loo frowned, “or at least major magics.”

  “They are the only real magics,” another boy scowled.

  Gervais, Reggie struggled for the name, wasn’t it? Yeah—Gervais Beastmaster.

  “No, the other magics are real, too,” argued a long-necked girl with a slightly pointed nose.

  Reggie thought she sort of resembled a bird. That was it. Feathernest. Glinda Feathernest.

  “It’s only the Seelie Court who thinks they are of no consequence,” Glinda added with a sniff.

  “Because they aren’t,” Gervais shot back.

  “Okay, kidlets,” Jet held up his hands to stop the argument before it got too far, “let’s try this without the politics, eh? ’Else we’ll never get anywhere—sort of like the Courts. Let’s play this like the Court of the Ard Ri, shall we? No Seelie or Unseelie, just the facts and issues at hand. Loo—you want to continue?”

  Reggie found he liked Jet a lot. He was a natural leader-type. I wonder if he would be amused or insulted by that thought?

  “Okay,” Loo said with a shy, dreamy smile. “The seven magics each have a passive and aggressive side. It’s not necessarily the nature of the magic itself, but rather how the individual uses it. Those of the Seelie Court use the aggressive side of the magic more, while the Unseelie Court uses the
passive side more.”

  “I would’ve thought it to be the other way around,” Ryssa said.

  “Nope,” interjected another boy. He had gray eyes beneath white eyebrows and a full mane of white hair that hung to the middle of his back.

  Storm, Reggie remembered, noting the storm color of his eyes. Storm Cloudwalker.

  “Look at it this way,” the boy explained. “The symbol of the Seelie Court is the sun. It gives warmth, but it’s all-powerful and aggressive when it wants to heat things up a little. The symbol of the Unseelie Court is the moon. We can see the moon in the sky, but sometimes it hides from us in ways the sun never does and has a subtler, but no less powerful, effect on things—like the tides and other stuff we don’t think about.”

  “That’s a good way to explain it,” Glinda said thoughtfully.

  Loo nodded in agreement. “Of the seven major magics, four are tied to the elements—Water, Fire, Earth and Air.”

  “And the colors the Houses use to depict them are blue for Water, red for Fire, green for Earth, and purple for Air,” Glinda added.

  “The other three magics,” Loo continued, “are Animal magic—where the four-legged variety is considered aggressive side and flying creature magic is considered the passive side. Then there’s Healing magic and, of course, Celestial magic.”

  “The Animal color is brown, the Healing color orange, and the Celestial color is silver,” the last girl added with a blush.

  Reggie tried to find her name in the jumble of his mind, but it escaped him. She was pretty, with long dark hair and eyes that turned up slightly at the corners to give her an oriental appearance. Her voice was soft—Whisper. Whisper Windcall. That was it.

  “So let’s identify the Houses for them, then.” Jet surveyed the group. “We’ve actually got a pretty good selection here. Pyro walked out, but his House is Flamebringer of the Seelie Court and the Unseelie House is Emberlight for the Fire magic.

  “Jade is from the Stoneheart House—Seelie, while the Unseelie is Landstrider for both sides of the Earth magic. Loo is from the House of Seacalm, Unseelie, while Waverider is the Seelie House of Water magic. We have one from each of the Air Houses—Storm Cloudwalker, Seelie Court, and Whisper Windcall, Unseelie Court. Hey, there’s one from each of the Animal Houses as well—Gervais Beastmaster, Seelie Court and Glinda Feathernest, Unseelie. The Healing Houses are the Bonemender House, Seelie, and we have Meek Lighthand from the Unseelie Court.”

  Reggie looked at Meek and realized he was the only one of the group who had yet to speak.

  “What about the fourteenth House?” Ryssa thought back to the Arena Court. “The other side of the Celestial magic?”

  “There is no fourteenth House,” Gervais scowled. “It doesn’t exist.”

  “But I saw a guy sitting in the section next to ours,” Ryssa insisted, “and he was wearing black and silver.”

  “He wasn’t supposed to be there,” Storm argued. “He’s just stubborn about pretending he still has the right.”

  Jet’s expression was pained. “There was a fourteenth House, but it was dedicated to the darker side of magic. Celestial magic is separated into light and dark, rather than passive and aggressive. The House of Starborn uses light magic, while the House of Nightfall used dark magic.”

  “When the Ard Ri, Dana, banned the use of dark magic in Faery,” Moira added, “the House of Nightfall was disbanded, and its members placed elsewhere, under other Houses. Any child who shows dark magic potential is fostered into Houses where their secondary skill is cultivated.”

  “Like me,” Loo’s voice was low. “I was fostered into the House of Seacalm after my magical potentials test showed Water as my secondary magic. My strongest magical potential is dark Celestial magic. It’s something I’ll never be able to use.”

  “Meek was another,” Moira said with compassion. “His secondary potential magical talent was Healing. He is also the only other survivor of the fireball devastation besides you two.”

  Quiet fell over the room. Eyes turned to Meek, who stared at the floor. His hair fell over his face to hide it from their view and his shoulders sagged as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

  “That’s another question I’d like to have answered.” Reggie said suddenly. “Meek—how did we three survive? Do you know?”

  Meek’s head jerked up. Terror filled his eyes, and then he blinked, his expression turning to anger. He spun and left the common area, disappearing into the boys’ room.

  “Meek hasn’t spoken since that day.” Moira shook her head sadly. “He was only four years old when it happened.”

  “There were rumors—” Jade began.

  “I think rumors should be banned along with dark magic,” Jet said defiantly. “They cause as much destruction and ugliness.”

  “Maybe its time we headed off to bed,” Loo suggested. “We do have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

  “Yeah.” Jet smiled, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  The team members split up, the girls heading in one direction, the boys in the other. Once inside the room, Ryssa moved the packs off her bed, and climbed in.

  “I wish we had more time before we had to start tomorrow,” she grumbled tiredly into her pillow. She fell asleep, barely registering the strange heaviness that filled the room before it dissipated into the night.