Reggie & Ryssa and the Summer Camp of Faery

By Bo Savino

What would you do if you found out magic was real and Faeries existed beyond your vision but within your reach? Better yet, what if you had once been a part of that world without knowing it, and now they wanted you back?

On their thirteenth birthday, Reggie & Ryssa’s world is turned upside down. The twins find out that magic is real and Faeries co-exist with the human world. To top it all off, the Wilt is eating the barrier between the human world and the world of Faery. If the two worlds collide, both will be destroyed. Are Reggie & Ryssa the only ones who can save both worlds? Or are they the twins of Darkness and Light foretold by prophecy to bring the destruction of Faery?

Doom and gloom prophecies...
Disappearing Team members...
Dark magic attacks...

It’s an adventure-filled summer in the Award-Winning World of Faery!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bo Savino
• Release date: Mar 23, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476002514

Bo Savino

Award-winning author Bo Savino lives in sunny Florida surrounded by a mixed bag of family and friends. She wrote her first novel (never published) at the young age of 18, and is an avid fan of the science fiction & fantasy genre she writes her stories in!Bo uses different pseudonyms to keep her young adult genres separate from her adult ones, which she writes under A. J. Rand.Titles out by Bo Savino:The Reggie & Ryssa SeriesReggie & Ryssa and the Summer Camp of Faery (Book 1)Titles out by Bo Savino as A. J. Rand:The Yeshua Star Series:Broken Wings: Genesis (Book 1)Broken Wings: Alpha (Book 2)The Nibiran Series:Sky Gold (Book 1 with co-author Carrassa Sands)The Tapestry Series:Keeper of the Flame (Book 1)

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Reggie & Ryssa and the Summer Camp of Faery

By Bo Savino

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2006 by Bo Savino

License Notes.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchase for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This book is also available in print at most online retailers. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support!

Dedication

Special, heartfelt thoughts go to those members of my family who have shared all my fears, angst and frustrating days of writing both by encouragement and knowing when to stay out of the way.

Thanks to all of you for being there, being you, and allowing me to be me. May you never stop believing in the Magic of Faeries!

Table of Contents

Prologue: Something About Mary

Chapter 1: School’s Out

Chapter 2: An Unexpected Visitor

Chapter 3: Birthday Blues

Chapter 4: On the Road

Chapter 5: New Faery

Chapter 6: A Faery Tale

Chapter 7: The Heart of New Faery City

Chapter 8: Matchmaker

Chapter 9: Teammates

Chapter 10: Out of the Frying Pan

Chapter 11: Into the Fire

Chapter 12: Magic Theory

Chapter 13: Calling All Sprites

Chapter 14: The Black Knight

Chapter 15: Misery Loves Company

Chapter 16: Flight School

Chapter 17: Great Balls of Fire

Chapter 18: Dark Stormy Knight

Chapter 19: Twist and Shout

Chapter 20: The Hall of Futures

Chapter 21: Aurelius Cries Uncle

Chapter 22: A Whole New Game

Chapter 23: For the Birds

Chapter 24: Wilted Future

Chapter 25: The Promise of Magic

Chapter 26: Farewell to Faery

About the Author

Prologue: Something About Mary

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Mary Rutridge was a daft old woman. At least that’s what most of her co-workers thought. The employees at Silverwood Adoption Agency were all very conservative and professional, with the exception of Mary. And Mary was quite the exception.

Mary had been an employee of Silverwood Adoption Agency for as long as anyone could remember. No one was quite sure how old she was, but some actually joked that Mary had been there on the first day the Agency opened its doors. It was impossible, of course, since the Agency had been around for over one hundred and fifty years. No one had the nerve to speak to her. Other than to make occasional jokes when she wasn’t around, they rarely gave much thought to her at all.

The exception to this was when a really strange adoption case was brought to the Agency. It didn’t happen often, but in over one hundred and fifty years of handling the adoption details for thousands of children, it was bound to happen on occasion. When it did, Mary was the first person called to handle it. This was not only because she seemed to have an uncanny knack for resolving every oddity of any strange request that came through the Agency’s doors. It was mostly because when the employees of Silverwood’s Adoption Agency thought of strange, the first thing that came to mind was Mary.

So on the evening of October thirty-first, All Hallows’ Eve, when all manner of strangeness abounded through the land, it came as no surprise to Mary when she received a call to Mr. Smythe’s office.

Umm…Mary? Mr. Smythe’s voice came hesitantly over the speakerphone.

Umm…yes, Mr. Smythe? Mary was already sliding her feet into the square-toed orange shoes with the big floppy plastic pink flowers that were under the desk where she always left them once she entered her office. She knew there was only one reason that anyone in the Agency ever summoned her.

Do you have a moment to come into my office?

Mary smiled. Mr. Smythe was always so polite. Asking her a question like that. He was well aware that she had no outstanding or pending cases at the moment. Well, maybe the Murdock adoption. She frowned, but then brightened up. No, that should be resolved soon. The Silverwood Adoption Agency was the focus of Mary’s life. She spent long, careful hours working for the benefit of the odd cases she was handed, to insure the perfect placement for each and every one of the children assigned to her care. Mr. Smythe also worked long and late hours. She liked to think it was for all of the same reasons.

She cheerfully pushed the button to send her reply. I’ll be right there, Mr. Smythe.

Mary rolled the chair back from her desk and stood to her full height of five foot one inch, straightening the wrinkles from the baggy dress around her rather round figure. Thick, dark-framed, plastic glasses were perched on a nose that looked much like a cherry in size and shape, set in a plump, happy face. Examining her appearance in the old fashioned, stand-up dressing mirror that leaned precariously in the corner, Mary gave a little pinch to her cheeks to add color.

Pretty as a peach, she said to the reflection in the mirror, her blue eyes twinkling with satisfaction.

A mewling response from the top of her desk drew her attention, and she smiled down at a long haired, ginger-colored cat that was almost as round as she was.

Why, thank you, Mr. Snickers. She curtsied to the animal. Mary reached for Mr. Snickers with her short, plump fingers and pulled him to her chest, ruffling the fur on top of his head. Come along now, Mr. Smythe is waiting. I suspect we have company.

Company was just what Mary found after she navigated her way out from behind the piles of old books, knick knacks, and other oddities of her overly stuffed and cluttered office and walked through the many hallways that made up the offices of the Silverwood Adoption Agency. She stopped short for only one conspicuous moment when she entered the reception room of Mr. Smythe’s suite of offices. The breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened upon meeting the deep green eyes of the stranger sitting in the high backed chair across the desk from Mr. Smythe. From beneath the shadowed darkness of his hooded cloak, the eyes were all she could see.

For one single, brief instant, she saw the endlessness of time stretched out before her. Then the eyes retreated further into the darkness of the hood, away from Mary’s view. She shook the thought away and shuffled across the office to sit in a chair as far away from the stranger as possible, barely glancing at the large, blanketed basket on the floor next to his chair.

Mary, Mr. Smythe breathed a sigh of relief.

Mary looked at the middle-aged, well-dressed man behind the desk and smiled, but she kept a watch on the stranger out of the corner of her eye. Mr. Snickers sat with bored, feline patience on her lap while she hugged him to her chest. Even Mary wasn’t sure whether she was using him as a shield or trying to protect him. She held tight, regardless, until he made a noise sounding something like a strangled growl. Mary let loose of Mr. Snickers, and the portly, ginger cat jumped from her lap.

Um…Mary? Mr. Smythe’s hesitance was back. He looked unsure of himself at the moment, and she wasn’t used to Mr. Smythe being unsure of anything. The stranger was making him nervous. She knew from experience that he really didn’t have much of an imagination, being boxed into a daily world of suits and papers and rules and regulations. This case didn’t fit any of the rules he was used to applying to everyday situations. Perhaps he was imagining some hideous face hiding deep in the shadows of the dark hooded cloak that Death himself might have worn, if you believed in fairy tales. And this was All Hallows’ Eve. Mr. Smythe shook his head. She knew that he normally wouldn’t get this rattled. Then again, this was definitely not a normal situation.

Mary watched Mr. Smythe expectantly, but still hadn’t spoken. She wondered if that was making Mr. Smythe nervous. She was never nervous, or at least where it showed. She was always brisk and to the point with a winsome, motherly smile. Mr. Smythe appeared hesitant in how to proceed. Mary was confident that he would do what he felt was best.

Mary, this is Mr.— Mr. Smythe looked to the stranger with confusion. I’m sorry. I seem to have forgotten your name—?

I didn’t give it, the stranger’s voice came softly from within the folds of the dark hood.

Mr. Smythe stared at the man, seemingly surprised. Then he shook his head again while he stood.

"Yes, well, um…Mary? This gentleman has two children, infants—twins—that need Agency placement. There are a few conditions he would like to set on the adoption—"

Fosterage, the stranger corrected.

Mary’s eyes strayed to the basket near the stranger’s feet. A slight movement caught her off guard, before she turned her attention back to the flustered man behind the desk.

Er, well, yes, fosterage. Mr. Smythe did not look at either of them. Instead, he gathered a few papers from his desk and crammed them into an already-full briefcase. He snapped the clasps on the case, leaving a few white mangled corners to stick out the sides.

Well, Mary. He cleared his throat. I trust that you’ll attend to the details of the matter. Mr. Smythe walked around to the front of his desk, avoiding the stranger, and headed to the door. I have, um…someplace to be and I am already, er, late. Please lock up when you are finished? He left the question to hang in the air, cutting it off with a final snap of the door as he closed it behind him.

Mary blinked in disbelief, her eyes quite owlish in the shock that washed over her from Mr. Smythe’s odd behavior. There had been previous incidents with other foster situations—that other set of twins, for instance, which had really turned Mr. Smythe’s world upside down for a while, but in her opinion it shouldn’t have—She snapped out of it, his words sinking in. Mr. Smythe trusted her to attend to the details. She would never begin to think about letting him down in that trust. Mary straightened and stood, absently brushing down the wrinkles of her dress while moving to sit in the position behind the desk vacated by Mr. Smythe. She pulled together some papers and picked up a pen, holding it ready.

Very well, Mr.— Mary gave him her best pointed, questioning look, becoming quite brisk and business-like. The stranger remained silent. Mary sighed with resignation and put down her pen. She made a big show of rearranging the papers on her desk, and then pushed back the chair to stand. Very well, then. If you choose not to answer my questions, then please take the children and leave. I’m sorry the Silverwood Adoption Agency could not be of further assistance.

What—?

I thought I made myself perfectly clear. If you choose not to respond to my questions, our business together has reached a conclusion. I have a lot to attend to, so if you would be so kind as to show yourself out—

But—

Look. Mary placed the palms of her hands face down on the desk and leaned as far forward as her round frame could go. "I don’t think you appreciate the way things are done around here. Here we have rules and laws that must be followed. What I do here is for the safety, protection, and well-being of the children and the families with whom they are placed. If that happens to extend to you, it is only an added bonus for your benefit, but it isn’t my primary concern.

"Now, if you had chosen to drop the children off on our doorstep, or any other doorstep for that matter, you might have been able to protect your anonymity. Mary took a deep breath and continued. However, you at least show some semblance of humanity, her lips twisted on the word, or perhaps a better phrase would be decency, by choosing to make sure the children are properly taken care of."

The stranger’s shoulders slumped in resignation.

Aurelius. He pulled back the hood of the cloak. Lord Aurelius Trenton Icewand Starborn.

The face beneath was ageless, yet elderly. A long mane of white hair surrounding aristocratic features fell into the folds of the hood where it came to rest on his shoulders. His nose was perhaps a bit sharp, and when his brows came together in consternation as they did now, it gave him a fierce appearance. Mary might even have been put off by that fierceness if the gentle tiredness of his forest green eyes didn’t shine with wisdom and kindness. It was obvious, at least to her, that those qualities were a big part of who he was.

Mary was taken back for a moment but collected herself quickly. She hadn’t expected that he would answer. With a nod, she pulled the chair closer to the desk and sat back down. The papers were placed again in front of her and she started to write.

Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Mary worked through the task of putting his name to paper. It’s not as though I were asking your True Name for the records.

What—? Then you know—you’ve had dealings with Faery before.

Mmm, Mary gave a noncommittal answer while she finished writing his name. She looked up at him. Suffice it to say that I’ve had enough experience with your kind to know how to deal with you. Now, the children—?

Yes, of course. They are Faery as well.

Mary’s smile was tight.

I’m certain of it, iciness crept into her voice. After all, you don’t really care what happens to your Changelings, do you?

"Changelings? Aurelius angrily sputtered. He drew stiffly to his full height in the chair. How dare you— He stopped, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to gain control. Madam, that is a practice of the Unseelie Court, I assure you. Furthermore—"

Yes, yes. Her impatient tone brushed his words away. I’m sure. But I wasn’t inquiring as to the nature of the children, I was asking for their names.

Oh—of course. My apologies.

Accepted, but unnecessary. Mary turned her attention back to the papers. Now—their names?

Reginald Aurelius Starborn and Maryssa Delzia Starborn.

The rest of the information exchange passed smoothly and without incident. When she had finished entering the last of the Agency’s required information into the allotted spaces on the stack of papers in front of her, Mary put aside her pen and stood again.

May I see the children now?

Aurelius nodded and she came around the desk to where the tightly woven basket of stripped vines she noticed earlier lay hidden in the shadows next to his chair. Mary gave a nod of personal confirmation when she noticed Mr. Snickers lying happily at the foot of the basket, his purrs of contentment a low rumble. With surprising ease, considering her bulky form, she crouched to take a look at the two infants lying in peaceful slumber, wrapped in a soft blanket of multi-colored brilliance.

They’re beautiful. Mary took in their delicate features with a feeling of grandmotherly contentment. Mary’s care for the children she worked to place was genuine. It was, in part, what made her so good at her job. She noticed marks on the twins, almost like moles, star-shaped and dark. The boy had a little star-mole just to the side of his right eye, while the girl had a matching star-mole just to the left of her tiny mouth. "They truly are star born, aren’t they?"

Yes, they are. A trace of emotion made his voice slightly husky. When Mary went to reach for the basket, Aurelius gently grabbed her wrist. There is still the matter of the conditions for their placement.

Mary met his eyes with understanding, bringing the brisk business expression back to her face. She rose and went back behind Mr. Smythe’s desk. It was Aurelius who produced papers this time, a scroll that he unrolled in front of her. He snapped his fingers and a quill and inkwell appeared next to the paper, the pen poised and ready to write. Mary eyed the man from Faery with arched eyebrows, showing she wasn’t impressed with his little magic display.

Very well, then. He shrugged his shoulders. Here are the conditions that need to be taken into consideration for placement.

I will have some conditions as well—for the protection of the placement.

I expected as much from you, madam. Aurelius nodded stiffly.

As he detailed his conditions and Mary countered with hers, the pen started writing of its own accord, borne by the magic guiding it to record their agreements. It paused in mid-air each time the two argued the fine points of what would be required. They continued long into the morning hours of All Hallows’ Eve while the children slept, peacefully unaware of the decisions being made regarding their future.

Chapter 1: School’s Out

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The bell rang, signaling the release of hundreds of children from their forced nine months of drudgery into the empty halls of Weight Middle School. The children always joked that they couldn’t wait to get out of Weight—and the day had finally come. For some, it was a permanent state. Eighth graders would move on to the new challenges of high school, which was just next door. For the sixth and seventh graders it was only a summer’s respite and then back to Weight as they climbed up to the next rung of the educational ladder.

Middle school was the age of discovering who you were by testing, poking, and prodding everyone around you to make sure that who you thought you wanted to be had the desired effect. For two particular children struggling with the concept of who they were and how they fit into the grand scheme of life, it was no different—including the feeling that they just didn’t fit in.

Ryssa S. Chambly shuffled her feet out of the classroom with the other children. She was as happy as the rest to have the summer free. She was especially happy to have managed to scrape together a high enough passing grade that she wouldn’t have to attend summer school, which had been a very serious threat looming over the next three months of her life. Someone fell into step beside her and she looked up, with a brief flash of resentment that turned to a smile.

Her twin brother, Reggie S. Chambly, looked at her with concern, his eyebrows raised in question. Ryssa’s smile grew a little bigger and she nodded.

You passed, then? Reggie let loose the breath of relief he hadn’t been aware he was holding.

Barely. Ryssa gave him a crooked smile. But I actually did it.

Cool.

Reggie was relieved that his sister had managed to squeak her way through to another grade. He peeked at her out of the corner of his eye. Her naturally thick brown hair gleamed with reddish highlights when they stepped into the sun. She had it pulled back from her face, which is how she wore it most of the time. He tended to let his own hair, finer in texture, hang loose around his face and shoulders. It was as long as his sister’s hair, but his was a shade darker and didn’t have those cool red highlights.

Most people said it was obvious they were brother and sister and were seldom surprised to find out they were twins. Their faces looked much the same—heart-shaped with high cheekbones and a spray of freckles to mark an otherwise smooth complexion. The noses and mouths were the same, and the eyes—deep-set and wide-eyed, framed by thick dark lashes. Someone had once said they were the kind of eyes you could get lost in. Reggie still wasn’t sure whether that was a good or a bad thing, but he had shrugged it off then, as he did now, as he always did.

Reggie was the kind of kid who let everything roll off him—or at least that was the face he tried to show the world. Easy going and good-natured—that’s what he allowed people to see. Not like Ryssa. She was quick to let all of her emotions jump to the surface. There was never any doubt about what she was feeling. Sometimes Reggie envied his sister for that.

Ryssa looked up at her brother, brown eyes meeting blue. He smiled at her and she noticed with a trace of envy, not for the first time, that his little star-shaped mole disappeared into the crinkles of his smiling eyes. Hers never did. It was down by her mouth and always on display. She hated it. Just like she hated that her brother had those bright blue eyes while hers were the color of mud. And she hated the fact that he was so much smarter than she was. Everything always came easy to him.

"I don’t suppose I have to ask whether or not you passed? She looked hopeful. Or maybe got a bad grade? Just one?"

Reggie gave her a grimace of understanding.

Yours were that bad, huh? he asked.

The worst yet. Mom’s gonna kill me—or worse, she’ll probably ground me for the whole summer.

"She wouldn’t do it for the whole summer—"

No, but it might as well be. I’ll be grounded just long enough for everyone to forget I exist. It’ll be the end of my social life.

"It’s not that bad—" Reggie’s attention drifted away.

That’s easy for you to say. You don’t care about anything. She looked at him and growled. "Just like now. You’re not even paying attention to me. You don’t even care that I’m doomed to a lonely summer with no one—Hey, watch where you’re going!" she snapped as Reggie reached out to grab a boy from stumbling into her.

Well, well, a mocking voice drawled, pulling Ryssa’s attention away from Reggie and the boy who’d almost run into her. What a combo—Hammie and the Chamblys. It almost sounds like some lame rock band or something.

Hammie looked up at Ryssa and froze, staring at the star mole on her face, but she wasn’t paying attention.

What do you want, Cally? Ryssa asked. Cally and the trio of girls who followed her around like lap dogs really grated on her nerves. The popular group—she hated them. Mostly she hated them because she couldn’t be one of them. Coming from a single-parent home, there wasn’t a lot of extra money to buy the things it took to be popular. If they’d only let her—well, she’d show them.

What do I want? Cally tapped a finger to her chin, pretending to think it over. "Everything, of course. Oh, wait—I already have that. I’d settle for this lump, she pointed a finger at Hammie, who still stared at Ryssa, cleaning my shoes where he spilled his drink. They’re ruined."

Ryssa looked down at Cally’s shoe, where a single dark drop of cola was already sliding off as though it had never been there at all. She looked at Hammie, finally noticing that he couldn’t stop staring at her ugly little mole. He seemed frightened, and she found herself irritated.

Are your eyeballs stuck or something? she asked.

Hammie’s eyes immediately dropped away, and he refused to look up again. Cally reached for Hammie, but Reggie stepped in front of him. The girl drew up short and laughed.

"What are you going to do about it, Chambly? Hit me?"

Reggie didn’t respond, but he didn’t move, either.

Fine. Cally tilted her head and added with a sugary sweet smile, "You know the party I throw every year at the end of school? Consider yourself uninvited."

We were never invited in the first place, Ryssa said, letting her irritation show.

"That’s right, and little trolls like you never will be." With a nod of her head, Cally turned and walked away. Her girls followed silently in the wake of her clicking heels.

Reggie snorted and rolled his eyes. He looked at Ryssa, the dejection evident on her face, her forehead furrowed in disappointment.

"Come on, Ryss, you can’t really want to hang with that bunch. You’re so much better than they are."

Yeah, right, whatever.

Reggie looked behind them for the boy, Hammie, but he was gone, swallowed by the multitudes of children passing out through the doors of the school.

Come on, let’s head home. Mom’ll be waiting.

Ryssa pulled her books close to her chest like a shield and quietly followed her brother away from the school. She caught up to him, and their silence continued for a time while they walked side by side.

So how do you think she’ll be today? Ryssa said.

I don’t know, Reggie sighed. She seems to have been pretty good these last few weeks.

Which means she’s due for a bad spell. I hate it, Regg. I hate seeing her like that. She seems so helpless, so—not like Mom. Her expression hardened. Sometimes it comes on so sudden it makes me feel like she’s faking it, like there’s nothing really wrong with her and she’s just doing it to get attention.

"That’s something you would do, Ryss, not Mom."

I know. Ryssa blushed and looked away.

The doctors say her body is attacking itself, sort of.

"They can’t figure out what’s wrong with her. What do they know?"

I don’t know.

The rest of the walk home was silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Reggie stopped and retrieved the mail while Ryssa waited, and then together trudged up the long driveway that ended at a house set back from the rest of the street, surrounded by trees. Ryssa was the first to the door and opened it to let loose a rolling, hazy fog of smoke. The twins looked at each other. Reggie groaned while Ryssa rolled her eyes.

Battle stations, Reggie muttered as they resolutely moved into the house.

School bags were dropped with the mail, just inside the door. Reggie went straight for the kitchen while Ryssa opened all of the windows and turned on a freestanding fan to blow the smoke from the living room. A high-pitched screeching noise blared in the kitchen, and Ryssa rushed into the room to help her brother.

Smoke billowed from the oven and Reggie waved his arms to move it away until he could see well enough to grab the burning object inside. Ryssa hurried to the windows and opened them before blindly reaching above the stove to turn on the hood vent. The smoke rose straight up into the vent and out of the kitchen. Ryssa grabbed a towel while Reggie was finally able to get a grasp on the tray in the oven with potholders. While Ryssa fanned the smoke away from the detector that still screeched its loud warning, Reggie headed toward the back door with the flaming sheet of unidentifiable charcoal lumps. Just as he arrived, the door swung open from the