The Halves of Us Read online

  Adie searched for comforting words. Take care of her like she takes care of you. She stood out of bed. “What of the boy from this morning? Felipe. I saw you holding hands with him . . . maybe . . .”

  Aura’s gaze fell to the floor, and Adie watched her ball up her fists.

  “Let’s not speak of Samuel, or any boys anymore.”

  Aura nodded. “I was coming to look for you earlier, when I found you with . . . Samuel. Voke said the lesson with the Rokis had some . . . issues.”

  Of course, she got Voke to talk. Adie huffed.

  “What happened?”

  She sat up, keeping her gaze at the stars out her window. “I touched the Rokis, and I don’t remember what happened. I think I scared Mother.”

  “Scared Mother?” Aura laughed. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

  Adie smiled briefly. “And I almost told her about the time we—”

  “Did you?”

  “No. I said almost. But I think she may know I’m hiding something.” If I can tell anyone, it’s Aura. She took a deep breath. “The images the Rokis projected were from my nightmare last night.”

  “How can that be?” Aura asked, sitting on Adie’s loveseat.

  “I don’t know.”

  “The nightmares . . . are they getting worse?” Aura asked.

  Adie recalled her dream and the warmth of having Samuel so close to her. She shook her head. “Not all of them. But lately, they’re more frightening than ever. Mother said that a portal appeared—”

  “A portal?” Aura asked. “Those were banned by the Designers years ago. What happened to the portal?”

  Adie looked at her sister, a reflection of herself staring eagerly back at her. Golden specks displayed throughout her emerald eyes. Her red hair frazzled all around her. Her high cheekbones were dusted with a rosy pink, and her matching lips curved with curiosity.

  She didn’t have the strength to tell her of the blood and of seeing Aura before her, filled with terror.

  “Sometimes I don’t remember,” she lied again. A twinge of guilt spiraled through her, remembering she had lied to her mother a few hours before.

  “Oh.” Her expression turned somber. She grabbed Adie’s hand. “I’m sure Mother is worried because she knows the responsibility you’ll bear and might be fearful of leaving so much of that for you.”

  Adie looked at Aura. So wise and always there.

  She lunged forward, hugging her. “You always know what to say. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Adie whispered in her ear.

  Aura pulled away. “Well, I know Thora would probably appreciate there being just one of us.”

  Adie laughed, wiping tears from her eyes. “No more talk of the Rokis or boys or anything about today.”

  Aura nodded. “I’ll let you rest.” She stood to leave.

  Adie caught her sister by the hand, and their eyes met. “No matter what Fate may bring us, you’ll always be my sister. This is Fate telling us where we are meant to be.”

  Aura squeezed her hand as if returning the message and quietly left the room.

  Adie lay in bed, burying herself in her comforter. As she closed her eyes, a part of her wished to return to the dream with Samuel. She began to doze, and the familiar scent of vanilla from the garden calmed her. The sensation of cool water on her body came next as she drifted asleep.

  * * *

  The music started as before. She knew what would happen next and welcomed it. She wanted to feel the safety she’d felt before in Samuel’s arms. As she looked over the valley below her and the arms returned around her, she closed her eyes. The embrace tightened more than she remembered.

  “Samuel, that’s a little too tight.” Adie tried to turn around, but his embrace wouldn’t let her. “Samuel, that’s too tight!” Breaking free, she stepped a little too close to the edge of the cliff overlooking the valley.

  She glanced back and gasped as she saw Felipe standing before her. Her stomach twisted, knotting her nerves together. His dark hair covered most of his face, but the glowing red eyes pierced through the shadowy hair.

  “Felipe . . . what are you doing here?”

  His smile stretched across his face in an abnormal fashion. Adie watched in horror as black liquid came up from the ground, slowly enveloping Felipe’s body. She stepped back, careful not to reach the edge of the cliff. The dark liquid took the shape of his frame, and as it reached his head, his facial features vanished. All that remained was piercing red eyes. His mouth had fused together, but a piercing shriek reverberated from him as he leapt toward her as a Sight.

  * * *

  She awoke, screaming while being cradled in her bed.

  Aura held her, trying to calm her. “Shhhh . . . shhh. Adie, it’s okay. You’re awake. You’re safe.”

  “He’s a Sight. He’s a Sight.” She kept repeating as Aura rocked her.

  Aura smoothed her sister’s hair down and continued swaying her. “It was a dream. It was just a dream.”

  “Aura, you’re not safe. We’re not safe.”

  “Of course I am, and so are you. We’re in your chambers. There are Guards outside our room. Go back to sleep. It was just a dream. I’ll stay with you.” Aura laid Adie down in bed and cuddled up next to her, putting her arm around her sister. She began singing the song their mother had sung to them when they were younger.

  * * *

  “Blue bird, fly high.

  Blue bird, fly high into a cloudless sky.

  I smile, and I take your hand.

  One day, one day you will rule this land.

  Blue bird, don’t give up.

  Let your wings always take you high.

  Blue bird, don’t you ever forget to fly.”

  9

  Gossamer

  Gossamer opened the door slowly as a loud bang echoed through the room, filling the air with a cloud of lavender smoke. Professor Tut appeared from the cloud, coughing and waving the smoke away from his face as he removed blue goggles from his head.

  I should’ve known he would be doing another experiment. Gossamer smirked as he pulled the leaf from his pocket. He’d been searching for Tut all afternoon, to no avail. Finally, some Guards had seen him heading back to his office during dinner.

  “Ah, hello, Gossamer.” Tut walked briskly to the other side of the room, toward a long table filled with odd-shaped glass containers.

  Large lids pressed tightly over containers that housed long furry worm-like creatures in bright shades of oranges, yellows, and pinks. He opened one containing a bright ginger worm and poured it into a container of black liquid. With a loud poof, more lavender smoke resonated.

  Gossamer delighted in the scent of the smoke. Fresh lilies and amber. Almost as fast as it appeared, the smoke quickly dissipated. Tut stood there, smiling foolishly. Gossamer stifled his laugh. A contagious humor followed Tut that even influenced the usual stone-faced expression of Gossamer.

  A large delicate moth-like creature flew over Tut’s head and rested on his extended hand. Its single wingspan covered his palm. The colors on the wings shimmered in shades of turquoise outlined by a thick black line and a few yellow specs. But when they fluttered, the turquoise became pink, then orange, then deep violet.

  “Marvelous, isn’t it?” Tut kept grinning. “I’m calling them the Tutomothus Whispador. My own hybrid of moth and butterfly from two regions here on Thindoral. They can be trained to relay messages by quietly whispering the information to the intended recipient.”

  Gossamer walked past Tut and looked around his office at shelves as tall as the ceiling, filled with books ranging from topics of the Designers, the wings of the Fae, and customs of each region.

  “How many have you created?” Gossamer asked, looking toward Tut’s desk filled with stacks of papers and one giant book that towered over him.

  As he reached Tut’s desk, he ran his finger over the stacks of papers. He recognized several of the drawings, mapping out nearby constellations in their galaxy. Some of t
he drawings were of specific planets. There were giant ones that looked like balls of fire and a bright emerald one with a silver ring around it. He marveled at their detail and beauty. He flipped over the next sheet. Tut had scratched through several drawings with black ink as if to erase them. Gossamer held out the leaf containing the sketch of the planet from Adie’s projection. He was about to speak, when Tut interrupted him.

  “I’ve attempted to make four so far, though this is the only successful one,” Tut whispered softly to the creature.

  The Tutomothus Whispador had flown off his hand and landed on his head. His silver hair had streaks of lavender left over from the smoke cloud. His oversized white shirt remained un-tucked on one side and still miss–buttoned.

  Gossamer smiled, before quickly clearing his throat, reminding himself to get down to business. “Ambrielle has requested I speak with you regarding Adie and the Rokis.”

  “Ah, yes. How did her first lesson go?” He walked forward, and the Tutomothus Whispador flew from his head onto one of the higher bookshelves.

  “Are you going to let the Tutami—”

  “Tutomothus Whispador.”

  “Yes, that. Are you going to let it just fly freely?” Gossamer asked as Tut walked up two stone stairs leading to his desk.

  “Yes. And just to make it easier for you to remember, I shall don her with a nickname. Whispa. You should be able to remember that, shouldn’t you?”

  Gossamer grinned and nodded.

  “And yes, I will let it fly freely. I have spoken to her, so she won’t go far. Now, what is it you want to speak with me about?” Tut asked, shuffling papers around his desk.

  “Are all these important?” Gossamer asked, looking at the stacks of papers on and around his desk. The tallest stack was almost at eye level with him.

  “They’re being used for a new project. It’s amazing what you can do with recycled paper, water, and Fae dust. It’s still a work in progress, though the test today showed new potential.” Tut ran his hands through his hair and stared at the lavender dust on his hand. “I’m a mess. Did you say this is urgent?”

  Gossamer made eye contact with him. “Yes, I’m afraid so. Adie touched the Rokis and something odd happened. At first, she had no reaction. But then . . . then it attached itself to her.”

  “Attached? How so?” Tut asked. The smile vanished from his face, and his left eye twitched. He brought his hands up to his head. An expression of remembrance crossed his face, but it quickly fell into a frown as he shook his head. He hurried over toward the bookshelves. Tut climbed the ladder and reached far to his left, grabbing a large green book before he descended from the ladder.

  “Her eyes not only went blue but glowed. Her hand stuck to the center gem as a projection appeared throughout the room.”

  “What did the projection show?” he asked, flipping the book open.

  “A constellation appeared, zooming in toward a planet similar to our own.” Gossamer handed the leaf to him.

  “Water?” Tut asked, studying the drawing and setting it beside the book.

  “Yes. Then there was a portal—”

  “A portal?” Tut stopped flipping through the book and sighed.

  “Yes, and a Sight appeared.”

  “Did you notify the Guards?”

  “Yes, but it seems that it was just part of the projection.”

  Tut nodded nervously. “What does Adie have to say about this?”

  “She doesn’t remember the projection, but she recognizes the images from her dreams.”

  “Her dreams!” Tut gasped. He sat in his wooden chair. Carved out of fine dark purpleheart wood, the corners of the chair rose higher than his head.

  His yellow eyes grew wide as he slumped back. “She’s seeing images in her dreams that the Rokis projected. Are these images of events?”

  Gossamer shrugged. “I’ve never seen the planet before. Ambrielle recognized the portal, but I assume that’s based on her studies. She didn’t specify if she’d seen one in person before.”

  “These images must have some significance. I wonder if her power from the Rokis is premonitions.” He tapped his finger on his head. “Premonitions are usually warnings. The images projected must be of some importance.” He repeated himself as he moved some of the free papers around on his desk. “Ambrielle has been kind enough to meet with me and a few other professors on occasion to use the Rokis to examine our galaxy. But lately, I’ve been mapping constellations much farther away from us, thanks to my new invention, the Teltutoscope. I’ll have to show it to you later. But Gossamer, I’ve viewed places, some reaching out toward the farthest points of our galaxy.” He turned around and looked out the window at the moons. The bright silver rings of the largest reflected light into his eyes. His voice dropped in tone. “Could the planet on this leaf have a connection with . . . other events you’ve described to me?” He turned and faced Gossamer. “Ambrielle’s first transportation, in particular.”

  “I hadn’t thought about that.” Gossamer leaned against the desk. “That’s concerning.”

  Ambrielle had shared with him, in secret, what happened when she first touched the Rokis. He had been sworn to secrecy then, and still felt the guilt from going against his promise and telling Tut. Gossamer’s ocean eyes changed color as dark brown swirls invaded them.

  “I’ve done more research recently on your own ailment.” He motioned to Gossamer’s eyes. “The results are still inconclusive,” Tut said.

  “Focus on the projections and what they mean. This situation is your top priority. We can worry about my ailment later.”

  “Perhaps they’re all connected.” Tut scratched his chin.

  Gossamer walked over to him. “Remember, Ambrielle doesn’t know I told you about what happened to her. I trust you’ll keep it that way.”

  “I will keep my word to you. The story of Ambrielle’s first lesson with the Rokis will not be repeated to anyone by me. Nor my knowledge of the curse your brother put on you.”

  Gossamer nodded, thanking him, and he turned to walk out of Tut’s office. “She wants you to locate the planet.”

  “I can compare to our current records, but if it’s not in there, it’ll take some time.” Tut stopped for a moment, and Whispa landed on his palm. “I can’t shake this feeling something is coming.” He looked to him, mumbling incoherent words before shaking his head. “There’s a darkness coming, Gossamer.”

  His voice sent chills down Gossamer’s spine.

  10

  Aura

  Aura fidgeted in her seat. Why don’t they put cushions in these things? The coldness of the stone chair seeped through the coatings of her layered indigo dress which Adie had convinced her to wear this morning.

  She glanced at the seat beside her. Adie slouched in the corner, drumming her fingers on the arm of the chair. Thankfully, Adie had convinced Mother to allow Aura to attend the Requesting Ceremony. She didn’t want to go to class and face Samuel.

  She couldn’t. Her heart still hurt even though she begged it not to.

  She had spent all morning drowning in her thoughts after seeing Samuel kiss Adie’s cheek. Maybe they’re Fated to be together . . .

  Thoughts thundered through her mind during the Requesting Ceremony, which started off eventful and somewhat distracting, with Ambrielle changing the weather to the third Season. Soon, the air would be crisp and the cafeteria would be filled with festive spices. But after listening to the dozens and dozens of requests from visiting Thindorians that followed the initial Season change, Aura’s thoughts returned to Adie and Samuel being together.

  He loves her, and I should be happy for her. She inhaled. Stop thinking about it.

  She glanced around the Acceptance Hall. It extended out from the far right side of the Dome, leading out into the garden. Growing vegetation adorned the glass walls and ceiling of the hall. As soon as Ambrielle had declared the start of the third Season, the foliage shifted from a bright green into emerald with specs of purple and
golden hues. Flowers lining the vines swirled with darker shades of their original colors, preparing for the temperature change.

  Aura sighed heavily and got yet another glance from Gossamer to behave. She turned her attention back to her mother as she graciously accepted another gift. Ambrielle stood in the middle of the stage in a rose gold gown that shimmered just like the twelve corners of the Rokis that lay in the center of her chest. So far, she had greeted most of the Council members and any of their personal visitors, and she’d accepted gifts followed by their requests.

  Two Council members had failed to attend the Requesting Ceremony, which her mother had seemed worried about, but she quickly brought order back to the Acceptance Hall. Most of the requests this morning had been simple. Rain for the crops during the Season change, minor healing, and transport to other regions.

  This next gift came from a Fae. An intricate vase made from pieces of petrified wood that twisted and curled delicately to the top of the vase. Green vines weaved through the pieces of wood and grew tiny yellow and blue flowers.

  Aura listened as the Fae addressed Ambrielle. “No watering is necessary. Just the light from Uni will suffice.” The Fae smiled nervously. “In seven days, you’ll be able to receive Fae dust for at least a fortnight from the flowers.”

  Ambrielle nodded graciously before handing the vase to the Guard to her right. “I was informed you had an urgent request from your Council. They spoke of the health of a child. What can I do for you this Season, Yashe?”

  Yashe’s black skin darkened, and a shimmer glided down her. She stood at least two feet taller than Ambrielle, but her fear shortened her.

  She brought her hand to her heart and bowed ever so slightly. “Forgive me, Ambrielle. But I purposely mislead my Council so I could share urgent information with you.” Yashe bit her lip, and her long gray and lavender wings shivered behind her. “This is Fate telling us where we are meant to be.”