by Bo Savino
* * *
Her heart in her feet. That was becoming an all too common place for it to be. That’s where it was now. Ryssa looked down at her shuffling feet as she moved behind the rest of Team Phoenix, away from the Fire-training field. Nobody would look at her—not even her own twin.
She held up her arm, surveying the burnt and tattered remains of her sleeve. She was certain it was beyond salvage even for the Brownies. Some of the Team uniforms were worse than the others—it depended on where they were standing when the blast of Ryssa’s fireball exploded in the center of the field. Most of the already charred targets had been annihilated, so lessons were cancelled for the day.
Ryssa scowled. It wasn’t her fault that Darkwind was competent with the whole fireball thing. It also wasn’t her fault that Aurelius had scolded her disastrous efforts when she locked Reggie out of the bond so she could try to control the magic herself. She didn’t mean to get so angry. And she’d had no idea her anger would channel itself into a fireball that would cause major devastation on the training field.
Again she looked at the smoking remnants of her teammates’ uniforms and felt guilt surge through her. Maybe Fire training hadn’t been such a good idea, at least not with her emotions still high following the episode with Aurelius and Queen Medwyn. When would she learn to get her emotions under control? Before or after I seriously hurt someone? Sometimes the emotions sprang from out of nowhere, and she didn’t recognize it until she had already lashed out. Most of the time, she couldn’t understand them herself. It was just part of who she was.
With a quick glance to make sure no one was paying attention, Ryssa dropped back from the rest of the group and took the first side street that would lead her away. She couldn’t take her teammates’ disappointment and rejection any longer. She needed time to think—alone.
Wandering through the streets of New Faery City, Ryssa kept her head down and her hands in her pockets. She took the familiar route that eventually led her to the Wing Field. Sitting at the edge of the field, she stared despondently out into the open area. She was alone, just as she had wanted, but now what?
Only, she wasn’t alone. Ryssa felt the presence of someone else and looked up, expecting to see Reggie or Meek. Even Meek had been frightened by the episode on the training field and had shied away from her. Ryssa was sure it had something to do with the fireball and the fact that he had lived through one, so she really couldn’t blame him. She was disappointed to see that it was neither Reggie nor Meek. When she realized who it was, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up in alert.
The man standing beside her wore robes of black and silver. “Mind if I sit down?”
“Are you going to make me disappear with the rest of the potentials?” Ryssa eyed him suspiciously. It was the man from the disbanded House of Nightfall. For the first time, Ryssa regretted going off alone. On the other hand, maybe her disappearance would solve a lot of problems. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with any of this anymore.
“Make you disappear?” The man appeared genuinely surprised, and shook his head sadly. “No, I am not the one responsible for that,” his voice held a trace of bitterness. “Trust me. The Unseelie Queen used every resource known to Faery to be certain I was not the one involved.” He gazed into the distance, shivering as though at some private remembrance. From the look on his face, Ryssa didn’t think she wanted him to elaborate, so didn’t ask for an explanation.
“Do whatever you want.” Ryssa frowned, adding, “I mean, sitting down or not—whatever.” When he did, she turned and asked bluntly, “So who are you?”
The man’s smile lit his eyes with amusement, crinkling at the corners. Ryssa got the strange feeling he didn’t smile that much.
“A bit of a rude question for a member of Faery.” He arched his eyebrow at her, but his tone held no animosity.
“I was raised among humans.” Ryssa shrugged, trying to hide her smirk at the personal joke.
“Ah, of course.” He nodded knowingly. “And those humans—such a rude lot they are.”
Ryssa watched him closely. He was still smiling, and she couldn’t help but give a little smile in return.
“Sorry. I’ve had a rough day.”
“You mean blowing up the training field—or calling the Queen of Air and Darkness a spoiled child?”
Ryssa looked at him curiously and he laughed.
“I was watching your Team on the training field, and the story of your encounter with Queen Medwyn this morning is already legend. Word travels fast. There’s little you can keep secret in Faery. There are few who could have stood up to the Unseelie Queen without repercussion.” He chuckled, adding almost to himself, “I would’ve loved to have seen the expression on her face.”
“All right. I’m about to be rude again. Who are you and what do you want?”
The man laughed again.
“Very well.” He tried to be serious. “My name is Kyellin Nightfall, although I suspect you already knew that much.”
“Only that you are from the House of Nightfall. Not your first name.”
“Nightfall is a designation. It is only a name, no longer a House.”
“I heard that, too.”
“And what do I want?” Kyellin mused out loud, as though contemplating the other part of her question. “I want many things, as do we all. But perhaps you meant for me to be more specific—what do I want from you?”
Ryssa nodded, her brow drawing together.
“Then the answer is nothing.” He paused, considering. “Or maybe everything. That remains to be seen. But for now, I just want to satisfy my curiosity—and perhaps offer some help.”
Ryssa didn’t feel threatened, but she wasn’t quite sure what to think. “What kind of help?” she asked warily.
“A little advice—perhaps to help you understand what you’re going through—from a perspective that you’ll get from none of the others who are currently teaching you.”
“Why?”
“Why what?” Kyellin looked confused. “Why won’t you learn it from them?”
“No. Why do you want to help me?”
“A fair question,” Kyellin said, “especially since it’s not wise to trust the motives of anyone in Faery.”
Trust No One. The familiar warning leapt to Ryssa’s mind.
“Long ago, when Nightfall was still an accepted House, I was close to your mother and father. Even after the disbanding of the House of Nightfall and use of dark magics were forbidden, Delzia was very kind to me. Marcus took more of the political party line of ignoring me, since I fight still to this day for Nightfall’s recognition among the Courts. But still, he was not unkind, as many of the others are. Your mother, as the Ard Ri, was always patient and listened with an open heart and mind. She was truly an exceptional leader and a good person. Maybe I just feel it right to offer whatever assistance I can to her child.”
Ryssa wasn’t convinced. “There’s more to it than that.”
“There is—but you’ll not hear it from me at this time.”
“So what kind of advice do you have that could possibly help me right now?”
“Raised among humans,” Kyellin laughed, although his voice held a note of chastisement that made Ryssa blush. “That’s a good one—but it will only take you so far in Faery.”
Ryssa didn’t respond.
“Listen.” He looked around cautiously, as though expecting someone to overhear. “As I said before, there is little among the Faery that isn’t known, despite all the secrets that hide in the shadows. I know of the power for which you are showing potential. I also know about your lack of control—especially where the emotions are concerned.”
Ryssa glowered. Everyone was so concerned about her power.
“I am also very concerned about your well-being.”
Yeah, right, Ryssa thought with a snort. Her disbelief must have showed in her face, because Kyellin’s expression turned to one of depressed knowing.
“You don�
��t believe me. But I speak true.”
“Why? Why should you care? You don’t even know me.”
“No. But I know what will happen if you can’t control the emotions. You need to understand them—I mean really understand where they are coming from. If you don’t, the emotions will control the magic and that magic will turn to darkness the likes of which Faery hasn’t seen in a long time. Not only would it be destructive, it would unravel everything I have worked for to restore the House of Nightfall.”
“So there’s your real agenda.” Ryssa’s shoulders slumped and she looked away. “You don’t care about me—you care about restoring the House of Nightfall and the potential that I have for mucking up your plans.”
“Ask the others what happened to Darkwind’s last controller.” Kyellin gave a deep sigh and stood to leave. “Ask that question and hear the answer. Then we will talk again.”
“Ryssa,” a voice called. She turned to see her uncle rounding the corner of the street toward her. She looked back to Kyellin, but he had disappeared.
“Who are you looking for?” Aurelius examined the empty area suspiciously. “Were you talking to someone?”
She gave him a bland look, tired of everyone badgering her. “There is no one here but me, Uncle.”
Aurelius frowned, his doubt evident, but he said nothing to contradict her.
“Yes, well,” he cleared his throat gruffly. “You know better than to be out and about by yourself. It’s time to go back to the Team quarters.”
“Yes, Uncle,” her response was politely dry.
As she followed him off the field, Ryssa’s resolve settled with firm purpose in her mind. One way or another, she would get a handle on what was going on. It was time to come up with some new rules to the game. She just had to figure out what those rules would be.