The Halves of Us Read online

  “Adie, ask Jilu for some Fae dust.” Adie looked quizzically at Tut. “Go ahead, ask her.”

  She gazed at Jilu. “May I have some Fae dust?” Her voice trembled as she spoke.

  Jilu smiled, and her big indigo eyes met Adie’s. Her translucent skin held a faint green hue. Her dark blue wings fluttered in silence behind her. She held her hand out toward Adie as a bright golden light etched along her arm and produced a small glowing orb in her palm. She handed it to Adie, who carefully took it and returned a nervous grin. The orb floated effortlessly in Adie’s hand. Its golden light reflected into her emerald eyes.

  Tut grabbed some papers from his desk and faced the classroom. Adie held her breath as she watched him wet the papers with a tray of water and bring them over to her.

  “The most incredible thing about Fae dust,” he said, “is that when you receive it from a Fae in the proper way, you can then control its power and manipulate it.” He looked at Adie. “All you have to do is think of snow.”

  She hesitated.

  He nodded to reassure her. “Trust me.”

  She turned toward the class and held out her hand as Tut hovered the stack of damp papers over the glowing golden orb. Her palm tingled as Tut let go of the papers. They slowly separated from each other and floated in the air to form a large sphere. The dust spun up from her hand and into the sphere, which then floated higher. The sphere grew larger, and the papers hardened as if frozen into ice.

  “It’s beautiful,” Adie said, watching the orb turn a whitish blue as it froze over. For a moment, the nightmares and worries faded.

  “Yes. It seems you’ve created an ice bubble.” Tut beamed. “Pop it.” A mischievous glimmer danced in his eyes.

  She grinned and focused her thoughts on the hovering ice bubble which now floated over the Council Room.

  Without making a sound, the ice bubble popped, showering intricate snowflakes around them. The students held out their hands, trying to catch them as they fell. Voke’s tongue flew from his mouth, catching what he could. Adie made her way into the center of the room, spinning as the cold snowflakes landed on her face.

  “Enchanting,” he whispered as the corner of his lips curled into a smile.

  The students returned to their seats as the snowflakes stopped falling. For a moment, Adie wished Aura were there to see what she’d done.

  The doors to the Council Room opened, and Ruler Ambrielle entered with Gossamer trailing behind her. Her emerald chiffon dress gracefully trailed along the granite floor.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said as she came to the front of the table.

  All the students stood, but she motioned for them to sit.

  “Urgent matters to the east kept me. I’m afraid the Sandman will not be joining us today, but he will meet you all at the Requesting Ceremony tomorrow.”

  The air changed. A nervousness crept through room, and Adie was sure it wasn’t just her anymore.

  “I know today has been different from other Teachings. Seeing into Vadim and visiting the Room of Papers can be frightening.” Ambrielle glanced at Adie before looking to the others. A sympathetic look stretched across her face. She strolled over alongside her and rested her hands on Adie’s shoulders. “I was once where my daughter stood. I, too, worried how I would ever lead a world I barely knew. A world that seemed to know so much about me.”

  Her hand fell away from Adie and touched the Rokis. “The power you will be entrusted with is strong, but fear not. It will protect you. And with the help of my Council members, I am able to lead. And with help from you, Adie will too.”

  She took off the Rokis and set it on the table in front of Adie. “The first part of today’s lesson is to see how Adie reacts to it and what unique power it bestows on her. This is something not everyone sees in their lifetime. You’re all a part of history.”

  “What happened when you first touched it?” Adie asked, looking directly at her mother. The memory of the tall tree and the smoke cloud chasing her filled her mind. She shook her head. “Sorry, Ruler Ambrielle. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Gossamer looked over at Ambrielle, whose eyes were locked with Adie’s as she made her way to the chair at the head of the table and sat. “Please everyone, call me Ambrielle.” She cleared her throat. “When my father first had me touch the Rokis, it transported me.”

  Adie looked down at the Rokis. Its blue center was barely lit. “Were you scared?”

  A few students gasped.

  I shouldn’t have asked her that!

  “No,” her mother automatically replied. She paused, dropping her head. “Yes. Yes, I was frightened. I don’t know where it took me, but it showed me what I needed to see. It kept me safe.” She gestured toward the Rokis.

  Adie placed her hands on the side of the pendant. Its blue light grew stronger and brighter. The twelve golden triangles surrounding the center gem reflected the light around the room, and Adie found her eyes entranced by the beauty of the Rokis.

  “All you have to do is touch the center gem,” Ambrielle said.

  Adie lifted her right hand and held it over the center, hovering just above the gem.

  “Together?” She heard Aura’s voice as though she was right next to her.

  She shook her head, closing her eyes to focus as she slowly dropped her hand. Please let something happen. Please.

  When she felt nothing, she gradually opened her eyes. Her mother, Gossamer, and her Council members all looked at her. She glanced at the Rokis.

  The center blue light had gone gray.

  Adie lifted her hand, and her stomach dropped. “Is that supposed to happen? What does it mean?”

  Ambrielle’s mouth drew into a tight line as she eyed Gossamer. He stood, the chair screeching on the floor beneath him. Their disappointment crushed her, as every fear she felt came to fruition. She tried to keep the tears in her eyes from falling down her cheeks. She reached down to move the Rokis across the table to her mother, when a shockwave swam through her body. She screamed as heat spiked through her arm, ripping through her skin.

  Then there was only darkness.

  5

  Ambrielle

  Felipe leaned over to pull Adie from the Rokis.

  “No!” Ambrielle shrilled, stopping him in his tracks. “This is the hardest part.” Her words were confident though she didn’t feel that way. It was true. This was the hardest part, in that she had to let Adie handle the Rokis on her own. The fear of not knowing what may happen next weighed heavy on her. Be strong, she prayed for the both of them.

  Adie’s screaming gradually died out, and all that remained was the heavy breathing of all the students. Ambrielle tried to control the beating of her heart, but it echoed in her ears. Stay calm for the students. They all watched as Adie slowly lifted her head, staring blankly across the table.

  “Her eyes . . .” Voke said in a state of shock.

  Felipe waved his hand in front of her face. “Adie?”

  Adie continued to stare forward, the blue color glowing and swirling around in her once emerald eyes.

  A burst of light pulsed through the room, and everyone flew back into their chairs as the Rokis cast a projection around them.

  “A projection?” Voke croaked. His shoulders slouched as he took in the magnitude of the image. “That’s her power?” Ambrielle ignored the disappointment in his voice.

  “A projection of what?” Jilu asked, looking to Ambrielle.

  Ambrielle motioned, indicating it was okay for the others to walk around the room. She made her way to a small glowing orb projected by the Rokis. To her left was another.

  “Stars,” she whispered. “It’s a constellation!”

  “Not one I recognize,” Polif said, studying the one near them.

  “I don’t recognize them either. I don’t think it’s ours,” Ambrielle said. A wind whirled around them as the projection zoomed in to show a swirling planet covered in green and blue.

  “Do you know this planet?” G
ossamer asked.

  “I haven’t seen it before, but it looks similar to Thindoral. It has water.” She looked closer. What could this mean? The memory of the first time she touched the Rokis flashed before her eyes. It can’t be . . . She glanced back to Adie, still sitting motionless.

  The students gathered around them, and Detrip, the future Council member representing the Fales, took one of the leaves from his head and sketched the planet as quickly he could with his fingers.

  Ambrielle turned back to the projection, reaching out to the planet. The room fell into darkness, except for the area around Adie that shone bright blue from her eyes. A spark of red ignited from the far corner of the room. She fought the urge to shout for Guards and stood in front of the students as red sparks flew out toward them. They grew larger and larger, swirling together, and opened into a gray hole.

  “A portal,” she said.

  “What does this mean? A portal opening hasn’t been attempted in Thindoral in decades. Travel without the Rokis isn’t safe,” Gossamer said breathlessly.

  She stepped closer to the portal but froze when she heard a piercing shriek behind her. Her heart grew heavy as dread consumed her. They slowly turned around. Before them stood a tall, bone-thin creature. Its jet black exterior glistened ever so slightly. Two red glowing eyes revealed a face without any other features.

  The students gasped, and some scurried as Felipe shouted, “A Sight!”

  Ambrielle quickly leapt toward Adie, pulling the Rokis from her hands.

  The darkness receded from the Council Room, and the walls returned to their golden hue from the light coming from the windows.

  The Sight was nowhere to be seen.

  “It must have been part of the projection,” Felipe said, trying to catch his breath.

  Gossamer ran to the Council Room door, calling for the Guards and shouting orders for them to search the Dome.

  Adie stood abruptly, looking at her mother and Gossamer. “Why didn’t anything happen? What does this mean?”

  Ambrielle gasped and moved toward Adie. “Your eyes . . . they’re back to their normal color.” She hugged Adie tight. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you. This is how my father must have felt.

  “What do you mean back? Were they blue? This hasn’t happened since . . .” Adie put her hand against her head and swayed.

  Felipe and Jilu came by Adie’s sides and helped her sit.

  Ambrielle knelt beside the chair. “You don’t remember, do you?”

  “Remember what?” Adie gazed at her with wide eyes.

  Ambrielle hesitated, trying to keep her voice calm. “Jilu, can you get her some water?”

  Jilu nodded and held out her palm as golden light swirled around, creating a glass that instantly filled with chilled water. She handed it to Adie.

  She gulped it down, seeming to relax only briefly.

  Ambrielle put her hand on the top of her daughter’s reassuringly. “Adie, you touched the Rokis again to pass it to me, and it attached itself to you.”

  Adie held out the cup to Jilu, and Jilu refilled it. Ambrielle watched as she gulped down the water as though she hoped it would replenish her memory. She looked at her youngest and watched confusion pass through her eyes.

  “The light from the Rokis consumed you and created a projection of some constellation and a planet we didn’t recognize.”

  Detrip handed her a leaf with a quick sketch of a planet and nearby stars. She showed it to Adie, who only shook her head.

  Adie handed the half-empty glass back to Jilu and tried to stand, leaning on the table for support. She turned her back to Ambrielle.

  What is she hiding? She would never turn her back to me. “Your eyes were as blue as the center of the Rokis, and light swirled within them.” Ambrielle hesitated. “Adie, what you said a moment before . . . about your eyes. Has this happened before?” She moved closer to Adie, her heels clicking on the granite floor.

  Adie’s shoulders trembled, and Ambrielle reached out to her.

  She turned. Her emerald eyes glistening with tears. “Mother, I—”

  “There was a spark of red light surrounding a gray hole. It was a portal,” Ambrielle said. Her hands quivered at her sides. I don’t like feeling this way . . . so helpless.

  “A portal? The red light created a portal?” Adie’s chest rose.

  “You remember the red light?” Voke asked, stepping closer to them.

  “I don’t remember seeing it in this room, but I’ve dreamed of it. A dark room with a spark of red light that shone about and created this gray hole.”

  “What happened next?” Ambrielle asked, her voice cracking as it raised. She grabbed Adie’s forearm, pulling her closer.

  Adie gulped, and she quickly released her. I need the Rokis. Glancing away from Adie, she made her way toward the pendant. She placed it on her chest, and her fear instantly left. Breathe. Just breathe.

  “I don’t remember.”

  She could taste her daughter’s lie. What do you need to lie about?

  “Has a projection ever happened to a Ruler when they first touched the Rokis?” Adie asked.

  “Not in the past recordings. At least, not in my recollection,” Ambrielle said. “But that isn’t unusual. We learn something new about the Rokis from every Ruler.”

  She looked back at Adie before shifting her gaze to the students. Their fear permeated the room. She scrunched her nose. “I think that’s enough for today. Class will resume tomorrow at the Requesting Ceremony.”

  A Guard entered the room and whispered to Gossamer.

  “No sign of the Sight. It must have been part of the projection,” Gossamer assured them.

  Ambrielle nodded. Thank Fate! They’re still bound to Vadim! “Thank you.” She glanced at the sketching from Detrip. “We need to get this to Tut to see if he has any idea about which sector this planet is from or if he recognizes any of the constellations.”

  She kept her eyes on the leaf as the students exited. She looked up in time to meet Adie’s gaze before she left. Adie’s jaw clenched, but Ambrielle could sense words wanted to escape her.

  “I don’t recall any Ruler having dreams matching a future projection, do you?” she asked, looking at Gossamer after the students were gone. Does this mean Adie can see into the future?

  She placed the Rokis on the table and inhaled as her right hand fell on the center gem. “Show me the images from Adie’s projection.” No projection came. She tried again. “I want to see the images from before.” Nothing. She cleared her throat and repeated. “I wish to see the projection created from future Ruler Adie.”

  No projection came from the Rokis.

  Ambrielle pushed the Rokis farther in front of her and wilted back in the chair. She sat up after seeing Gossamer eyeing her and held out the leaf. “Take this to Tut and have him locate this constellation, specifically this planet.”

  “Yes,” Gossamer replied, standing. He looked at her once more and rested his hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay to not be strong all the time.”

  Her eyes met his. “If I’m not strong, who will be?” She squeezed his hand on her shoulder and kissed it. “Thank you, brother.”

  As soon as Gossamer left, Ambrielle let herself slump toward the table and let the tears fall. She didn’t feel the strength her father seemed to have had. Perhaps he cried in quiet, too.

  She recalled the moment she’d first touched the Rokis. Her father looking at her. Her sweet mother sitting nervously across the table. The rush of wind that came over her, and the stretched feeling that consumed her body. The image of Gossamer standing in front of a building, limping as rain fell from a sky she didn’t recognize. . .

  It haunted her.

  She removed the images from the forefront of her mind and wiped the tears from her face. Reaching for the Rokis, she placed it back on her chest. The confusion and worry were pushed from her mind, and she stood and walked to the window.

  “This is Fate telling us where we are mea
nt to be,” she whispered.

  6

  Aura

  Felipe’s words rang in Aura’s head. He’d heard it, too. Her jaw clenched as she recalled the image on her paper. Her heart pounded. She could still feel the piercing glare of the Sight’s crimson eyes on her.

  Aura leapt and swung her sword hard at the Guard in front of her. The clash of metal echoed throughout the Training Hall. The weapons and gear on the wall shimmered from the light of Uni coming in through the windows, but Aura forced herself to focus.

  Vow now, sayeth aye. The voice of the Sight clamored in her mind, while the image of her Fate paper burned her eyes.

  Focus. Frustration boiled inside her as she gripped the handle of her sword till her knuckles turned white.

  Felipe heard it, too. She remembered the way his dark eyes looked at her. Why didn’t he tell everyone he heard it? Aura’s brow furrowed, and she shoved away any curiosity she had for him.

  Her feet were steady and quick beneath her. As the Guard brought his sword back around, she met it with her own, a few inches in front of her face. Aura lifted her right leg to the Guard’s chest and kicked him to the ground. She stood over him with her sword at his neck.

  Someone clapped behind her, and her attention quickly went from the sharp point of the sword against the Kira, or elven-kind, Guard’s blue neck to her unexpected audience. Her father, Nemiah, walked up to her, and she returned her sword to its place at her side. The Guard stood quickly, nodded, and turned to leave.

  “Hello, Father.”

  “Did you skip class? Midday break has just begun.” Her father narrowed his eyes, but a smirk grew on his face.

  “Combat training was going to be my main focus this year, anyway,” she answered, catching her breath.

  A whisper echoed behind her. “Vow now, sayeth aye.”

  Panic flooded her as she quickly glanced over her shoulder, gripping the handle of her sword tighter.