Revary Page 2

  “Please don’t let the sun out,” she begged the clouds above as the sun winked at her. The Mustang was broken in more ways than one, but the worst was it had no working cooling system. Or heating. She wasn’t a complainer, but being sweltering hot in the body binder around her was not how she wanted to conduct business in the park.

  She drove a few blocks then pulled up to tiny number twelve; a small, aging townhome where Max and his family tried to make do with what they had. Clare used to honk the horn to get him to come out, but since the arrival of his newest youngest sister, that was not an option. She tripped out of her car, her sword catching the seat belt, and walked as quietly up to the door as she could. Max’s mom was never happy to see her son leave with a horde of costumed kids.

  Knocking as quietly as possible, she hoped he could hear. Not ten seconds later, a baby’s angry cry erupted from inside. Then she heard stomping, rushing feet come down the stairs just behind the wall. Max flung the door open, looking as if he were running for his life.

  “Run,” he breathed, took her hand, and dashed back to the Mustang.

  As they pulled out, he tossed a whole army duffle bag of supplies into the back seat. He inhaled deeply and then let out a massive, long sigh. He smiled over at Clare. His eyes were brighter blue in this sun when surrounded by his black liner.

  “I see you finished the robe of darkness,” Clare said. “That only took a year.”

  “Had to save up for the silver thread. See?” He proudly pointed to the seams in the long, trench coat-like tunic he was wearing. “And I added a pointed hood.” He pulled it over his shoulder like a long braid. “And it’s form fitting.”

  “Okay there, fashion man.” She laughed. “Guess our dark elf has to be the one to take the burden of good looks. Did you get your ears fixed?”

  “Yeah, but it cost everything I had saved up. Those things are expensive.”

  “But can’t afford a hair cut?” she teased. “Shoulder-length.”

  He beamed when she noticed. “And still growing. I know, my mom bugs me about it too. Says I’d save more money if I wasn’t dying it crazy colors and…stuff.”

  Clare smirked sideways at him. “And stuff? You wear more makeup than Stella sometimes.”

  “Clare, look out!”

  Both of them were jerked forward into the dashboard as Clare jammed the breaks harder than she ever had before. They were both flung forward with painful force. Clasping her hand to her throbbing head she looked up and grabbed Max’s arm panting.

  “Are you ok? I’m so sorry. That sign came out of nowhere!”

  Max’s eyes were streaming tears and his head was bleeding. He put his hand over hers and pointed in front of them. Ahead was a large orange sign that said the road ahead would be closed in a few months.

  “For construction?” Max sniffed. “That’s the nature reserve. And a state park.”

  Then a large man in an orange vest and yellow hat came out of the trees toward them. He was chewing a chilly dog in one hand and holding a “slow” sign in the other. Clare rolled down the window.

  “You were going awful fast there, miss,” chilly dog man said.

  “I didn’t see the sign. We drive down here a lot,” she added, trying to sound apologetic. “What’s going on?”

  The man motioned to all the immediate trees and the field next to it. “All this was bought up by an oil company from Texas. Going to put in office buildings. Construction starts in a few days, but the park is closing in a few months.”

  “That’s so soon!” Max exclaimed. “We live here.”

  The man frowned. “Say what?”

  Clare corrected the misunderstanding. “No, no. What he means is we pay to rent this place, the shelter and campground, a few times a month. We’ve paid for the weekend. We use the camp site up the hill for our group.” He had to understand.

  “Uh-hu,” he chuckled, taking a large, messy bite of his chilly dog. He eyed her clothes then Max’s. “Listen kids, when school starts again, you won’t even miss this place. You look like seniors. Now be good little seniors, do your business today, then be on your way.”

  “Drive,” Max ordered, but Clare was already shifting into gear. They sped away.

  When they reached the parking lot, they put on their packs and hiked up the hill to where the others were already waiting. Stella had taken charge and seen to it that the great hall (the largest shelter in the camp site) was already laid out with a tablecloth and goblets for everyone. Al had set up the tents too. Clare dumped her stuff in the human tent and met the others at the round table in the shelter. Jeff, Al, Stella, Max, and Clare all stood around the table.

  “Everyone,” Al rubbed his hands together happily. “Before we depart into our world, I’d like to introduce you all to the new head of the barbarian clan. This is Alice.”

  From out of the women’s rest room stepped a short girl in loose leather and animal furs. Necklaces made of claws and teeth were layered around her neck and wrists. Her hair was long and ratty. On her back was a shiny broad sword. Stella rolled her eyes and elbowed Max as his eyes were fixed on her midriff.

  “Hi,” Clare said. “I’m really happy the barbarians decided to join Sun Age. We’ve known about you for a while, but weren’t sure how you played with others.”

  Alice smiled and removed her sword to take her seat. “Thanks! We wanted to join too, but again, same problem. We thought after you accepted the dark elves, maybe you’d be more open to… different people. Sun Age is the biggest gig in town. You’ve managed it well.”

  “I’m different,” Jeff mumbled, but behind his notebook, he was smiling. He had elected to be the Mayor of Sun Age and not participate in the fighting and spell casting.

  “You’re special,” Clare said. “Okay then, can we get started? We have a lot to discuss.”

  They all looked into each other’s eyes. Silence fell for a moment then Jeff declared, “Begin!”

  “Good people of Sun Age,” Clare said in a booming voice that filled the great hall. “We have gathered here because we are about to enter into a most trying time of life. A time many people like us do not survive. As the founder of Sun Age, it is my duty to see to it that every man, elf, and mage is taken care of. I have appointed Lord Jeffrey Righteousheart to take the minutes and make sure we stay on topic. Lord Jeffrey, what is the first order of business, if you please?”

  Jeffrey pushed his spectacles more securely onto his nose and read down the parchment. “First, Sir Alfred Firehearth wishes to announce the arrival of Lady Alicia of the barbarian clan. But seeing as how we’ve already done that, perhaps Lady Alicia has a few words of her own?”

  Lady Alicia stood up; her short stature was suddenly unnoticeable. She was powerful and her face was wise. “We, the barbarians, are concerned about the use of magical instruments in the civilian area. Many of our people do not abide by the laws of no mystical talking boxes during town hours. Do you have any suggestions as to how to enforce these laws? I understand everyone on the council of Sun Age has taken an oath to avoid the use of such magic.”

  “Indeed,” Sir Alfred answered her. “On behalf of our founder Madam Clarissa, we have taken an oath to follow in her suffering so as to avoid disrespectful judgments on her unhappiness. Should the barbarians wish to pay homage to the great lady, then bid them not use that magic only during town hours. They need not give it up altogether when in the other world.”

  “A wise piece of advice,” Madame Clarissa added. “Thank you, Sir Alfred. Next?”

  “The bestowing of the title ‘senior’ to all persons of age at the Institute of Fog,” Lord Jeffrey said.

  “Alas, we are all prisoners there in the other world,” Stella sighed. “It is called Fog because of how it clouds and distorts one’s thinking,” she explained to Lady Alicia. “The gods forbid a child should learn how to think. They are much more easily controlled when told what to think instead. Dull, corrupted little minds.”

  “Now, now, Stella,” Sir Alf
red smiled cautiously. “Let us not bring such politics into the great hall. This is sacred ground.”

  Everyone nodded and pounded their goblets onto the table to show agreement.

  “This is the time where we all must band together stronger,” Hero Maximus said, speaking at last. “I know I am the one who suffers the most on account of my feeble courage. But dark elves are never accepted anywhere.”

  “You have been accepted among us,” Madame Clarissa said. “And you always will be.”

  Sir Alfred spoke, “But it’s true. Hero Maximus has been the target of titans for many years. I will be the first to confess that I have not leapt to his aid. I fear them as well.”

  “Perhaps you could visit the white witch for healing?” Stella smiled at Max. She was adorned in her old white costume and long wig. She had painted her face pale, but her lips and around her eyes were black. “I am the healer. The user of good magic. I think our powers would mesh well, dark elf.”

  Everyone laughed at the subtleties in her voice. Except Max, whose face turned red as he trained his eyes on the goblet in front of him.

  “I may have some aid for you as well,” Lady Alicia spoke up. “None near as powerful or as exciting as the one our white witch offers you. Within the barbarian tribe is a man who can match the titans in strength. He has saved me from thieves before in the other world.”

  “Is he also a prisoner at the Institution of Fog?” Hero Maximus inquired.

  “Indeed, he is. You may not know of him. I shall make introductions in the other world when the time comes.”

  “Thank you, my lady,” Hero Maximus said, bowing his head.

  The servant came around and refilled everyone’s goblet and stoked the fire to keep it light. The great hall could be a gloomy place without the blazing fire. They all drank in silence for a moment.

  “If I may,” Madame Clarissa said at length. “I have an urgent matter to speak of. Something Maximus and I discovered on the way up here.”

  “The guard at the gate?” Lord Jeffrey inquired.

  “Indeed. You met him as well?”

  “Yes, though less violently than our Hero Maximus did. You should at least wipe away the blood, my friend.”

  “That was my doing,” Madame Clarissa said. “I did not see the guard. But what are we to do? They cannot take our town. This has been our city of solitude. It has been our land for years and now it is under attack!”

  All eyes were on her with awe. They all felt the same way about Sun Age, but were not sure how to fight the enemy at the gates.

  “They will close our gates soon unless we can stop them,” she pleaded. “What can we do? Lord Jeffrey, any ideas? I cannot stand to see this land go.”

  Lord Jeffrey took his spectacles off in thought. His frown was deep and sincere.

  Stella spoke up first. “Must we fight? This is our last year at the Institution. What have we got after that? University? Work as common people? I’m not sure I see the point in prolonging it.”

  “Give up?” Hero Maximus gaped. “Let what we have here go without a fight? Is that the kind of witch you are?”

  Stella glared at him then. “Do not anger me, dark elf.”

  “Hold!” Sir Alfred called out. “Peace among you two! These quarrels will not aid us. We cannot let them even begin. Madame Clarissa, do you have a plan?”

  She stood before them, regal and tall, but not a hope in her heart. “I know not as of now. I am sorry. But I do know I will not give this place up. What we have created here is more than something for us. We have a history here. We have fought and bled for each other here. We have stories to tell. Magic has happened here. Foes have been conquered. Sun Age is my home. It means more to me than I can tell you. It is not just land from the hill to the river. This is also the home to animals and to nature. Does that mean nothing?”

  No one spoke or moved. Each noble among them was thinking back to his or her past in Sun Age. What Madame Clarissa had said was true. This world needed to be protected.

  Lord Jeffrey stood up. “Let it be written in the book of Ages that on this day, a threat was made to the land of Sun Age. The council, from all corners of the land, acknowledged it and will place it in the front of their thoughts as we embark on this most perilous journey known as senior year.”

  “And to those who have commoners’ work and must keep at it,” Lady Alicia spoke up. “May the gods bless you and grant you the patience of a thousand mothers!”

  They all laughed and clapped. Then, raising their goblets high, with one voice they cried out, “To a rising sun!” and drank deeply, their voices echoing off the walls of the great hall and up into the marble ceiling.

  Chapter 2

  The Institution of Fog

  The morning light finally bounced off of the vanity mirror like Clare had wanted it to all summer. She moved it in front of her window, to the side, to the other side; but it wasn’t until a few days before school started she finally realized in order to get the best light, she had to put her back to the window. Now the light was right and she could see every offense on her face that needed to be either plucked or smeared over with a layer of powder. She wasn’t into makeup much if she wasn’t cosplaying a magic type, but sometimes she had the desire to just put on a little. Just to show she could take an effort in her appearance if she wanted to. But every day she did, it resulted in the same problem: the bus pulling up to get her just before she was finished.

  “Ugh!” she yelled, grabbing her science fiction themed shoulder bag. “I swear the world doesn’t want respectable looking women.”

  Seeing her taking a piece of toast, her mother called after her, “Clare, this is ridiculous. You need to have breakfast with the rest of us.”

  “The bus is leaving,” she called back. “Sorry!”

  On the bus, she collapsed next to Max whose face was set in a deep pout. He was more decked out in black and accessories this time because it was the first day of school.

  “Did your mom get after you again?” Clare asked.

  “I’d like a non-traditional morning sometimes,” he sighed. “Al was on the chatroom last night asking for you.” He was so slumped in his seat that he had to look up at her. “I told him he was being too pushy with you.”

  “Don’t say that,” she sighed, taking out her Algebra book. “I understand he wants to get…closer. But I just don’t right now. I want to graduate.”

  Max turned to look out the window. “Going on dates doesn’t make you fail high school in your senior year, you know.”

  She smirked. “I’m trying to be grown up.”

  She saw Max roll his eyes through a smile he tried to hide.

  “Why did I have to take history this year?” Clare groaned as she oozed into her seat as close to the back of the class as she could get without mingling with the pot smokers.

  Alice was just in front of her, the wigs gone and her short cornrow hair in a ponytail. She was bent over her history like it was the well of life. Max was nearly invisible in the far corner, his hood up and face down. The room was small and about twenty students were packed into it with the eyes of George Washington and Queen Elizabeth glaring down at them. A smile would have done the old queen wonders. Clare looked her dress up and down and wondered how she had led troupes into battle with it on. She was just thinking of making an Elizabethan style cosplay dress dripping with pearls when the door opened and all the students stopped talking for the smallest fraction of a second.

  The senior history teacher had been lobbying for years to supply the graduates with world history. It seemed he had forgotten to shave and trim his hair in that time because it was long and his beard was full. He marched to the front of the class, unbuttoned his fraying vest, and sat on the edge of his desk, surveying his students through rimless glasses. No one stopped talking. Only Clare, Max, and Alice looked forward. The teacher met their eyes.

  “Sex, scandal, torture, murder, and a lot of naked girls,” he said over the growing roar of student c
hatter.

  Silence fell faster than light could travel around the room. Some kids looked around nervously while others, thinking he must be in the wrong room, continued to text, but with confused frowns on their faces.

  “I have just summarized for you the reign of Henry VIII, which we will have a pop quiz over right now,” the teacher said standing up from his desk and beginning a round of the room. “No one is shocked? Concerned? Worried?”

  Clare raised her hand.

  “How brave and honest you are, Clare,” he drawled. His voice was smothered by the little movement his lips produced around each word. “Yes, I know each one of you by face and name, Mr. Kent.” He reached over and swiftly lifted a cellphone from a boy’s hands. “Oh my, Mr. Kent has quite a way with adjectives. F-bombs, N-words, shit at least seven times. And all typed in some kind of short hand required by your multi-tap number pad. What a creative mind you have.” He dropped the phone onto the desk with a rubber clunk. “Such is the way of the intelligent and unimaginative mind. Do you know what an adjective is, Mr. Kent?”

  The boy looked to his peers then back at the teacher. He shook his head.

  “I thought not. What about our king previously mentioned, Henry VIII, do you know him?”

  As he came around the room, Clare saw the teacher’s pants were old and greying, his shoes had tape on the bottom, and his blue silk shirt had probably been the most expensive thing he’d bought at one point. Under his vest, she could see old black suspenders holding his pants up around a waist that had at one time filled them out. He smelled of books, like from a university library, and something else she could not place. He was old with his beard, but under it, she could see that he was young, odd, and interesting all at the same time.

  Alice raised her hand demurely.

  “Yes, Alice?” the teacher said, perching back on the edge of his desk.

  “I’m sorry, but where’s Professor Alvin? I have him on my syllabus.”

  “No need to apologize, Alice, I love that I’ve taken his job. I’m afraid he’s out for surgery. Something wrong with his organs or other. And to be honest, I am very happy to be here. I’ve wanted to get my claws into world history for a long time. Thank God for private schools. How do you like our college layout?”