The Halves of Us

5. Ambrielle

5AmbrielleFelipe 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?” Gossamer 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 meant to be,” she whispered.