B0075M2D1U EBOK Read online

  “Ruby Blue”

  By Julie Cassar

  Book One of the Ruby Blue Series

  Copyright © 2011, Julie Cassar

  All Rights are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and review.

  Published in the United States of America by Julie Cassar

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Acknowledgements

  There are several people who played a huge role in the development of this series. First, I’d like to thank Cheryl, who was my very willing lab rat. (Although, now she probably hates me for calling her a lab rat.) I handed over each chapter as it was completed and watched with nervous angst while she read through every page. I also have to give props to my girl, Beth, my soul sister and brain-sharer. IKR! (Ha!) To my brother, J.D., “thank you” simply isn’t enough. He was always brutally honest, but fair. From plot development to final editing, his critique and cheering gave me the extra support and push that I needed to see this project through to the end. A constant buzz in my ear (kind of like an annoying, little fly) he pushes me towards excellence. To my editor, Leslie, I love your red pen underlining and am eternally grateful! Finally, I’d like to thank author, Rose Pressey, who was a huge inspiration and great mentor to me, even though she might not know it. Her kindness, spunk and willingness to share her publishing follies with me have been a God-send while I trudge my way through this unknown world.

  I would personally like to thank each and every person out there who purchased this book, but I don’t know all of your names, so this will have to do. (Oh, except for Jill K. Thanks for the help!) I hope you fall in the love with each of the characters as I have, and I can’t wait for you to see what happens next! With love, I dedicate this book to Jane, Grace and Adrian.

  Chapter 1

  I slowly opened my eyes and found myself staring up at the angled ceiling of my upstairs bedroom and let out a relaxed, lazy sigh as I stretched my arms over my head. I turned to look out the window and saw the clear blue skies peeking through the tops of the trees that were visible from my second story window. Sunny skies this morning. The garden out back would be full of life today. Magical things can happen in a garden. Or a forest…Or really anywhere that’s green and lush. Trust me. I know. How do I know this? Because I’ve experienced it firsthand. My name is Ruby Blue. No, I’m not a rock star. Although it sounds like I should be, huh? It’s a good stage name I think…I should learn how to play the guitar or something. Sadly, I’m just a regular 17-year-old girl, living in a regular little Midwest town in northern Michigan, going about my regular life. My mother is obsessed with the Wizard of Oz, and everything and anything that has to do with the Wizard of Oz, i.e. ruby slippers…hence, my name, Ruby. My last name is Blue, so, there you have it. I’m just glad they didn’t get too cheeky and think it’d be cute to name me Aqua or Turquoise, like my dad wanted. Ugh. That would’ve been pure torture. Could you imagine? Aqua Blue. Yuck. The teasing would have never ended. Who would name their kid Aqua? It’s not even a real name! Anyhow, I think I got off easy with Ruby.

  I’ve got straight, shoulder-length dishwater blonde hair (that’s what my mother calls it anyway), greyish-blue eyes, and I’m a slight 5’5”. But, I’m stronger than I look. Really, I am. I’m a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl all the way. No dresses for me. Yuck. No thank you. My little brother, Leo, is fifteen and usually a pain in my ass. And no, Leo’s name isn’t short for anything. My mother’s obsessed with the Wizard of Oz, remember? Leo, (for the Cowardly Lion – duh) seemed a heck of a lot better than the tin man or scarecrow. Knowing my dad, he could’ve gotten stuck with Cerulean Blue for Pete’s sake! So me, my pain-in-the-ass little brother and my parents live in this tiny little bungalow in a small town in northern Michigan named Lake City.

  I don’t even know why they call it a city. It’s sooo not a city. Shoot, it’s not even a town. It’s a street. With a few businesses on it, a flea market, a school, a few neighborhoods scattered throughout, and some Christmas tree farms. Yes, we are known for Christmas trees. In fact, we are considered to be the “Christmas Tree Capital.” How about that? Super exciting, isn’t it? (Not.) But we also are surrounded by beautiful lakes. Three huge inland lakes, to be specific, less than one mile apart from each other…that’s where I think we really get the name from. It’s not a city in the typical sense…it’s a city of lakes. Beautiful, crystal clear, freshwater lakes. And if you’re not about three minutes from a lake, you’re walking through a forest of trees…Birch, White Pine, Old Oak, Maple – you name it we’ve got it. So I’m a regular girl, who lives in this rinky-dink city of lakes that twist through forests of trees, with my pain-in-the-ass little brother, and oh yeah…I can see fairies.

  You probably don’t believe me. That’s okay. I wouldn’t believe me either. But trust me, I really do see fairies. I have been able to since I was about five years old. The fairies I’ve seen told me I have been enchanted with the gift of Fairy Sight. My mother loves to garden and she’d always drag me outside to “get some fresh air” as she liked to say and she’d make me pull weeds. Who does that? Makes a five-year-old pull weeds? But, my mother loved (and still loves) her gardens. You see, we live on about an acre of land which backs up to a huge forest. At the back of the property, twisting through the woods is a well-worn dirt path that leads right to a huge lake – Lake Missaukee. Although the trees block most of the view of the lake from the back of the house, I can see it from my bedroom window upstairs. I’m the only one who sleeps upstairs though. My parent’s and Leo’s rooms are on the main floor. I have this long room with really angled ceilings. Down the hall from me is also a bathroom and tiny guest room (but it’s mostly used as a junk room.) I think my parents stuck me up there so they wouldn’t have to listen to my “crazy, loud music” as they called it. They told Leo he could have the tiny guest room, but it’s really small and he’s way too lazy to haul all his crap up there.

  Anyhow, as I was saying, my mother loves her flowers. She’s always saying how she loves to “play in the mud.” But I kind of get what she means, because I do too. That probably makes me weird. What 17-year-old likes to garden? One who’s a dork. That’s what kind. Oh well. So I like flowers? Big deal. In fact, my mother is going to be getting some new flowers from my Aunt that I’m going to help her transplant soon…see? Dorky. There was one such occasion, when I was helping my mom in the garden, that I had my first experience with a fairy. It was about twelve years ago and I was out crawling around in one of my mother’s many gardens, helping her pull weeds, when I saw her.

  She was tiny…so small I might have missed her. But the quick movement and soft, glittery glow caught my eyes. I was amazed. Heck, I was only five. What five-year-old wouldn’t be drawn to sparkling, dancing magical creatures? Her golden glow and coppery wings sparkled against the green leaves of the plants. She looked up at me, put her finger to her mouth, as if to say, “Shhh,” and then winked at me. I giggled. She flitted around and danced in my palm. Her wings tickled. She was dressed in a yellow translucent gown, and she had long, jet black hair the color of onyx that glistened in the sun. Have you ever seen black hair glisten? When the sun hits it just right, it’s like strands of black jewels sparkling against flowing black silk. Thinking of it now, the style kind of reminds me of those old Hollywood movie stars, with sort of natural swoopy, swishy curls, just barely curling up at the ends where it bounced on her shoulders.
Her skin was fair and her eyes were like ice-blue diamonds, dancing with pure joy. She told me her name was Anya.

  And so began my friendship with fairies.

  I didn’t see them everywhere. Mostly just in the garden. Or the forest. (That’s where the fairies like to play.) I saw lots of fairies, but Anya and I grew close over the years. She was a young fairy…only a year older than I was, and she liked to play with me. Anya also had a younger brother… Brennan. He was just a year younger than her, so he was my age exactly. Brennan looked a lot like his sister… clear fair skin, sparkling pale-blue eyes, and jet black hair. Only he had no movie star hairstyle. It seemed to stick up in every direction, crazy as could be. And he liked to bug the crap out of us, just like my brother, Leo, did. So now I had two pains in my ass…My brother, Leo, and Anya’s brother, Brennan. Ugh. How did I get so lucky?

  And let me tell you something else about fairies. They aren’t so tiny and fragile all the time. In fact, as I soon found out, they can appear to be the same size as humans. They can even walk among us, look just like us and go completely unnoticed as fairies. They lose the wings and most of their glowing sparkle…but it’s still there, if you look hard enough and pay close enough attention. Have you ever seen someone just smiling and seeming to be radiating a glow? Maybe you’ve seen them at the grocery store, or in the park? It’s probably a fairy. You see, fairies can live in both worlds – ours and theirs, which they call “Fey.” But when they are small, like when they’re at the bottom of the garden, they continually draw from the energy of the plants and earth. It’s like nourishment for their bodies and souls. Also, and just as important, they are still connected to their world. They can hear, see and even communicate with all of the other fairies in Fey. When they are human-sized and fully come into our world, they are disconnected – on vacation without their cell phone so to speak. They can sense when they’re needed (after all, they do have that bit of fairy magic) but otherwise, they are cut off from their world. Most importantly, the longer they walk among us, the weaker they become. They don’t like it for long periods of time, but they do love to interact with humans. They enjoy playing with our sense of wonder and find our culture both unusual and stimulating. They are fascinated at how much faster humans age, and the speed at which we live our lives. They like the change of scenery, the fast pace and the modern inventions of the human world. Our technology mesmerizes them. Fey is a very old and very traditional realm where magic and simplicity are a part of their every-day life. They don’t drive around in cars or fly in airplanes. (They have their own wings, duh.) And they don’t have gadgets and gizmos like we do. Don’t even get me started on what they think of our food. Fast food and junk food simply enchants them! The first time Anya tried a bite of my candy bar, I thought she would tackle me and take me down like a line backer to get the rest of it out of my hand! Many fairies see the human world as vacation from their own world. But, as I said, the longer they are here, the weaker they become.

  Anya and Brennan seem to be the exception. They’ll often stay for days before feeling weak, needing to recharge themselves either in the garden or in their own world of Fey. I don’t really know why that is. I’ve seen and talked to other fairies before, and they usually can’t stand being in our world more than a few days without at least some recharging time in the garden. But Anya and Brennan have gone at least a week without returning to Fey or to the garden. I’ve asked Anya about that and she kind of brushed me off and said, “Well, not all humans are the same, are they? Fairies are all different too. Some of us are stronger than others.” She didn’t elaborate any further, but it made sense to me, so I let it drop.

  I also asked Anya if everything is small in Fey, since when I saw her as her tiny fairy self in the garden, I imagined that everything in their world must be small too. “We must be like giants!” I exclaimed to her. She merely shook her head and giggled. “Actually, we’re the same size as you in Fey, except we have wings.” I was surprised by that. “Why do you get small in the garden and forests then?” I asked. “Picture an hourglass,” she said, “You know, the kind with sand in it and it’s wider at the top and bottom, and really narrow in the middle?” I nodded my head. She went onto explain that each end of the hourglass was like our two worlds, Fey on one side, the human one on the other, but both existing in the same space. The small, little narrow part in the middle was the doorway between the two worlds, so in order to cross over, the fairies had to fit through that little opening; they had to become small to pass through. They would come through the earth, with the garden base and forest grounds as that center of the hourglass. The fairies could flutter there endlessly, enjoying the flowers, earth, and energy from our world, while still staying connected to theirs. Once they pass completely through to our side of the hourglass, they emerge as their normal-sized selves, minus the wings. “I wish I could do that.” I mumbled in disappointment to her.

  “Well, we’ve got fairy magic on our side,” she replied. “Maybe one day…” she told me.

  The first time I saw Anya as her true size, I just about fell down. I was six years old, she was seven. One minute, I was giggling with her while I was kneeling in the dirt, and the next minute, there was a kind of mist that arose from the ground, swirling quickly, gradually taking on the transparent form of her, until finally, she was solid and whole. It sounded like when you unscrew a cap on a soda-pop bottle after you shake it up, and the bubbles are all trying to escape. You know that bubbly, effervescent fizzing sound? That’s what it sounds like when a fairy is crossing completely over to our world. Anya simply looked down at me, while my mouth hung open in surprise, and started giggling again. Then she took off running through the yard yelling, “Tag! You’re it!” I quickly scampered to my feet to ensue the chase.

  Now, I don’t freak out when Anya or her brother soda-pop fizz appear to me. Shoot, it’s been 12 years since I first met them…it better not freak me out any more. There are other fairies who do it too, but I don’t really know too many of them. Mostly, they stay small and flutter around the lush ground. They like to stay connected to their world. Not many fairies (that I’ve met) are as brave as Anya and her brother. Of course, I never go anywhere. And Anya tells me that fairies live all over the world. I believe her. One thing I learned early on about fairies… they can’t tell lies…not even if they wanted too. It’s against their fairy code or something. They can withhold telling you something, skirt around a topic or not reveal all of the facts, but they can’t actually tell a lie.

  So, there you have it. I see fairies. And one of my best friends happens to be one. You’re probably wondering if everyone thinks I’m crazy because I see fairies. Actually, nobody knows. Not my parents, not even my pain-in-the-ass brother. Oh sure, they know Anya and Brennan…but they’ve only ever seen them when they look like us. They think they live across town. I didn’t actually introduce them to my family until about four years ago. But both Anya and Brennan thought it would be better to pass them off as part-timers… you know…kids who came up to vacation in town, spend weekends at the family cottage, that kind of thing. Our little neck of the woods is a popular destination for campers and cottage dwellers. It’s usually crazy- busy over the summer, with tourists coming in from all over the state. Anya and Brennan live in a cottage on the lake that’s owned by their family. It is gorgeous. How they can afford such beautiful cottage, I don’t know. I don’t ask either. They even have other fairies that come over from time to time (disguised as humans of course) to take care of the house, keep it stocked with groceries and maintain the lawn and gardens. I’ve never met their parents; they never seem to be around. Anya said they are pretty busy in Fey with their work and can’t get away too often. But they’re always in constant contact with Anya and Brennan. All they have to do is head to the garden or forest, shrink down and zing! They’ve got their “cell phone” signal. They can see and hear them instantly. Plus, with a little fairy magic, they can sense when their parents need them home. Even though t
heir parents never seem to be at the cottage, they have spoken to me and to my parents a few times on the phone…to keep up appearances I suppose. They must be pretty cool people if they let their fairy kids have their own house to escape to whenever they’re bored, in a whole other world even! My mother freaks if I tell her I’m riding my bike to the local Dairy Queen. “Look both ways before you cross the street. Remember to walk your bike through the intersection.” Blah, blah, blah…she reminds me every single time. Duh, mom. I’m 17. I think I can handle it.

  You might be wondering why I don’t have car. I am 17 after all. Well, I’m working on that. I’ve got a job at the craft and hobby store in town and I’m saving every penny I can to buy one. (Okay, maybe not every penny…but a lot!) Geesh, a girl needs her ice cream, nail polish and new Chuck Taylor Converse shoes every once in a while! Yes, I absolutely love those retro lace-up Converse basketball shoes. You know, like they wore in the fifties? I have them in almost every color made. They match everything and they are uber-comfortable. And I can’t imagine I’d have to explain the importance of nail polish (in every shade imaginable) or ice cream. I’m addicted to ice cream. Chocolate is my go-to flavor, but any kind will do. Except coffee. I hate coffee-flavored ice cream. And lemon. Yuck. It reminds me of Lemon Pledge…like I’m eating furniture wax. Gross.

  But as I was saying, other than the occasional pair of tennis shoes, my weekly ice cream treat (okay, maybe daily ice cream treat) and a bottle of polish every so often, every other penny I earn is socked away for a new sweet ride. It’ll probably be an old sweet ride, but a sweet ride nonetheless. And the best part is it won’t require me to get off of it and push it through an intersection, or pump up the tires with my dad’s old air pump.

  See? I told you I’m a regular girl. Who just happens to see fairies. Deal with it.