The Guardian (The Gifted Book 1)

by C. L. McCourt

  "I'll be right there." Christine patted Rhea's hand. "Try to get some sleep, and no more reading in bed."

  As Christine closed the bedroom door behind her, shutting out the light from the hall and leaving Rhea in the dark, the scenes in Rhea's dream were becoming clearer in her mind. She flipped on her light and started writing.

  ~~~

  Ander, Pam, Randell, and Daen were gathered around the television, watching a movie Ander had rented. It was a thriller who-done-it and the bad guy was just about to be revealed when Daen gasped for air and threw his head back. Eyes wide open, body rigid, he struggled for a few seconds to breathe, and then it was over.

  "Daen!" Pam scrambled to his side. "Daen! What happened?"

  Daen glanced at Randell, giving him an it-happened-again look. This was the second time that day he'd been hit with the crushing force that usually plagued him in his sleep. The first time had come as Randell and Daen were sparring in the back yard.

  It could have been a bad scene for Daen if Randell hadn't been holding back a little ... as usual. Daen was supposed to block Randell's strike, but halfway into the block he gasped and was thrown to the ground, as if something had shoved him in the chest. All the other times he'd felt the power hit him, Daen had been sitting or lying down. This new experience was a little unsettling for both Daen and Randell.

  "Daen. Are you all right?" It was Ander this time who was trying to get his attention.

  "Yes. I'm fine. It's just ... well, a little problem I've been having. If my hopes are right, I think the time when I will find the woman I'm supposed to help is drawing close." Daen looked at Randell, hopeful that Randell would give him reinforcement.

  Randell nodded, "We can only hope."

  Ander paused the movie. "Tell us. What's been going on?"

  Daen filled them in on the power hits he'd been having and the toll it was taking on him.

  Pam asked, "And you think these episodes are coming from the woman you're to help?"

  "I'm hoping. I know it's a stretch. Realistically, the woman I'm to help could be anyone, and these episodes could be coming from her or from someone attacking her. But either way, somehow I'm connected to her, and until I find out what's going on, I fear I'll be at the mercy of this ... force."

  Ander asked, "How are you going to find her?" Then he shook his head, not believing he'd just said that. "Sorry. That's been the question since you arrived."

  Daen nodded. "Nothing has changed. I just have to wait and see."

  Randell jumped in, "But I'm going to start looking more closely at the people I meet ... or as much as I can. We're hoping I'll be able to see a difference between her and others in this world. Of course, this assumes she's from Luxatra and she's on campus. The odds aren't in our favor."

  Pam leaned back on the sofa and took a deep breath. "Well. Short of putting a personal ad in the newspaper ...," Pam swept her hands through the air as if reading a banner, "... 'Seeking Luxatran female in need of help' ... I supposed there isn't anything else you can do. For your benefit, I hope this is her. But ... that means you'll be going home, right?"

  "I hope so, but ... it'll be a lot harder to go now. I'm going to miss you all. But maybe I'll be able to come back for a visit."

  The room became quiet with sadness.

  Not wanting to deal with the sadness that was killing the fun they were having, Daen tried to cheer things up. "Hey! I'm still here. You're here. And we have a movie to finish watching. Let's not get ahead of ourselves." He waved at the television to get Ander's attention.

  Ander clicked the play button on the remote and the subject was dropped ... but not forgotten.

  14

  Grennal

  It was Rhea's turn to clean the dishes after dinner. She stood at the kitchen sink, looking out the window, waiting for the moon to rise high enough to cast a shadow. She'd been waiting more than three weeks for the moon to return, and tonight was the night, she hoped.

  Rhea hadn't seen Grennal since mid-November, when she’d made the trek to her dorm room. It had always been a little tricky talking to her without being discovered, both at school and at home. But shortly after Grennal started visiting her at school, she learned that faking a phone call was a great way to hide her conversations. She'd speak Aduraun when she was alone and English when others might hear.

  Rhea was so lost in her thoughts about everything she wanted to tell Grennal that she hadn't heard her mother come into the kitchen.

  "Are you sure you don't want to come with us? I thought you liked adventure films."

  Rhea jumped, causing the water in the sink to splash onto the counter. "Geez. You startled me. You go on. I'll be okay. I'm going to read in my room." Rhea wanted to go, but she had waited so long to talk to Grennal she’d decided to stay home.

  Christine kissed Rhea's cheek. "Okay. We'll be home in a few hours." And they were gone.

  Rhea had the house to herself. She headed to her room and waited, watching each corner of the room where a shadow could start to form.

  To pass the time, Rhea sat on her bed, reading by flashlight, not wanting the light to block the moon shadow from forming. After about an hour and half, she heard the familiar language of her friend. "It's been so long. Are you well?"

  "Grennal!" Rhea tossed her book and flashlight to the side and sat on the floor in front of the shadow that contained her friend. "We have a lot to talk about and not a lot of time."

  "Slow down. Tell me what's happened."

  Rhea reached into the box on the floor next to her and pulled out the basket containing the blanket, linen, and card. "This is what's happened." Rhea tried to contain her emotions. There had to be a reasonable explanation.

  Grennal wasn't breathing or moving; she'd gone perfectly still.

  Rhea pointed to the basket. "I was found in this basket, wrapped in this blanket." She grabbed the corner of the blanket and held it up. "The corner of the blanket has some embroidery. It's so tiny, I know you can't see it from there, but it could be my family crest." She reached for the card. "And this card was found with me. Grennal, the writing on the card is Aduraun. It says Terrwyn. That’s a name, right? Unless that's some Aduraun word I don't know yet." She held up the card so Grennal could see, watching, waiting for her to respond.

  Grennal didn't say anything. Panic gripped her. This wasn't supposed to have happened. How had it happened? She knew how; mistakes. Grennal's first mistake had been leaving the card in the basket. Her second had been allowing herself to be seen. Next, she had befriended Rhea when she should have kept her distance. And last, she had taught Rhea to speak and write Aduraun, having forgotten the card with her name and how it would link Rhea to Luxatra.

  Memories of giving Rhea lessons in Aduraun flashed in Grennal’s mind. She remembered spending a lot of time preparing written text to show Rhea when they met. She’d wanted to her to learn how to speak and read Aduraun, but Rhea was special. She’d also learned to write in Aduraun.

  Grennal looked at the confused and anxious face in front of her. She knew what she needed to do. She needed to come clean about everything she hadn’t shared, and she feared what Rhea would say or do.

  Rhea was oblivious to Grennal's panic. She asked again, "Is Terrwyn a name? Grennal, what do you think this means?" Rhea had come up with multiple scenarios that explained the writing, each of which she'd played over and over in her head since seeing the card. "I've been thinking a lot about this. There are so many possibilities. For starters, someone in this world is like me. He or she learned Aduraun and had a hand in leaving me on the porch. Or, someone from Luxatra was here, in this world, and found me and decided to leave me on the porch." Rhea was rambling now, "Or, or ..." She was starting to hyperventilate.

  "Rhea, calm down." Grennal's voice was calm but her mind was in turmoil.

  "But wait, that's not possible. How can someone from your world be in mine? You know, I don't know who the person is, but I'm guessing they know who my biological parents are. I have to find h
im, her ... whoever. Grennal, what do you think?"

  Grennal's tail swished and her ears twitched as she looked from side to side. She'd explained to Rhea a long time ago that it was dangerous at times for her to be out talking to Rhea, but she hadn't explained why. Now she had to be extra careful not to be overheard.

  Grennal faced Rhea again, wanting to do the right thing, finally; to stop hiding the truth. But was it her truth to tell? Would she do more damage than good by answering Rhea's questions? No, the damage was done; she couldn't hide it anymore. "Um ... Actually, it is possible that someone from Luxatra is in the world of shadows. And yes, the writing on the card is a name."

  There, she had answered the questions, not volunteering more but providing enough information to calm Rhea down. But lying by omission was still lying. Grennal's guilt swirled in her stomach and pressed against her heart. She loved Rhea. Rhea was like a daughter to her. She hated the secrets.

  Rhea could barely breathe. "People from your world can come to mine? Really? I've asked you this before. Why haven't you told me?"

  Truth. Answer her questions but don't elaborate. "I wasn't supposed to tell you." Grennal stood and started to pace, scanning the area around her.

  "What? What weren't you supposed to tell me? That you can come to my world?"

  Big question; there were so many things she wasn't supposed to tell her. And so many things she couldn't tell her because she simply didn't know.

  "Grennal?"

  Rhea knew too much now. She was old enough to start putting things together. For her own good, she needed to know. "I suppose now is as good a time as any. I hope I don't do more damage than good, but here goes." Grennal swallowed hard. "Rhea, or I should say Terrwyn, there's a reason you can see me and this world; a reason you can hear me and speak Aduraun so easily." She stopped, waiting for Rhea to see the answer before she said it. She didn't want to say it out loud.

  Rhea didn't understand, or maybe she didn't want to understand. "What are you trying to tell me?"

  Grennal glanced around her and whispered, "You're Luxatran."

  Her final scenario: her parents were Luxatran. Although the possibility was something she'd considered, she hadn't given it much weight. The odds were against it. The enormity of what Grennal had just conveyed made the room spin. Rhea closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Grennal. Why haven't you told me this before now?"

  "I wasn't supposed to tell you. My job was to watch you, make sure you were safe. When the time came for you to know, assuming that time ever came ... I thought I would have time to break it to you gently, but ..."

  Rhea interrupted, "So you know my biological parents. Where are they? How can I find them?"

  "Rhea, I don't know who your parents are."

  "I don't understand."

  "There's a story I need to tell you." Her facial expressions were hard to read, given she was a dog-like creature, but her voice spoke volumes. She was serious.

  Rhea's heart started to race faster than it already was. "You sound like you have bad news that I don't want to hear."

  "I wouldn't say it's bad news. Let me tell you and we can talk about it."

  "Okay." Rhea tried to calm herself. She leaned back against her bed and waited for Grennal to start.

  "Do you remember me telling you about King Argeon, the ruler of Taulomi?"

  "Sure. Taulomi, that's where you live."

  "Right. And that's where you were born."

  15

  Origins

  Grennal didn't want to continue until that very important bit of information had sunk in. Learning you were born from Luxatran parents was hard enough to process, but to learn you were born in Luxatra, another world that had often seemed a dream, well, that could take some getting used to.

  Rhea wasn't sure she'd heard her correctly. "Where I was born?"

  Grennal nodded. "You heard correctly."

  "I was born there ... but I'm here. I'm here without my parents. How could this happen? How did I get here?"

  Grennal didn't want to answer. She feared she would lose Rhea if she knew who had put her there. Truth. It was a time for truth. Grennal swallowed hard and whispered, "I put you there."

  Rhea began to experience the same feelings she had felt the day she learned she was adopted. Hurt. Betrayal.

  "Rhea?" Grennal was becoming concerned. The look on Rhea's face showed she was running through all the news she had received and she wasn't looking happy.

  Rhea's focus returned to Grennal and it wasn't with a smile. "You did this to me? How? Why?"

  Grennal cringed inwardly. She needed to finish the story. "To save you."

  Rhea interrupted. "To save me? From what? What was so bad that I had to be sent here to be raised by ..." She stopped. Two people who loved her. Her parents hadn't done anything wrong. She took a breath, calming herself. She gritted her teeth and ground out her next question. "How do you know I was in danger? What danger?"

  "You were brought to me by a messenger. I was told you were in danger and you needed to be hidden where no one could reach you."

  "And you trusted this messenger? What if I was stolen from my family?" Rhea's thoughts flashed to stories that were too often in the news or portrayed in the movies; stories where children were stolen and then adopted by other families.

  "You weren't stolen from anyone."

  "How do you know?" Rhea was struggling to understand. "Why did you trust the messenger?"

  "The message and messenger were from King Argeon. I've been reporting your progress to him ever since."

  Rhea took that bit of information and processed it. A message from the king ... okay ... that was serious. Grennal had told Rhea about her world, about her king. She understood the life of the people in Grennal's world ... her world. Okay, calm, calm. She needed to be calm. "But why you? Why not my mother or father? Where are they? Who are they?" A sinking feeling came over her. They weren't there with her because something had happened to them, because they were dead. That's why she was in danger. She'd been saved but they hadn't. Barely able to form the words, she asked, "They're dead, aren't they?"

  "I don't know. I don't know why you were in danger. I don't know who your parents are, or ... were. I just don't know, so let's not jump to conclusions."

  Grief pierced Rhea's heart. Grief for a mother and father she'd never known; for a mother and father who might have died trying to save her, and from what? Her eyes started to burn as she held back the tears.

  Grennal whispered, "Rhea?"

  Rhea glanced at her alarm clock. It read 10:45. Her parents would be home any minute. She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes, then said, "I'm okay."

  Rhea ran through the time line of her life, trying to think positively. If her biological parents were gone, then at least she knew why they didn't keep her ... they couldn't. If they were still alive, then maybe they were hiding her and someday she'd be able to find them. Find them? That would mean going to Luxatra, right?

  "Can I return? Can I come to Luxatra?"

  Grennal honestly didn't know. She'd looked for the answer but hadn't found it. "The stories say people have returned." She'd heard that it worked the same in both directions; that Luxatrans with the gift of the veil could walk between the worlds when the veil was at its weakest, in the shadows of the moon. But Rhea had tried to touch Grennal all those years ago, and nothing had happened. And she'd never stumbled into Luxatra when it seemed the conditions had been met, so Grennal didn't know.

  "You don't know how to bring me home?"

  Before Grennal could answer, she jumped up, looked to the left and said, "I have to go," and then took off.

  "No!" Rhea exclaimed. She knew she should be used to Grennal's quick exists by now, but tonight was different. She had so many questions. She picked herself up off the floor and crawled into bed.

  A few minutes later, Rhea listened to the footsteps of her parents as they walked past her room, thankful they didn't stop. She really needed to be alone to think abo
ut what she'd learned.

  When their bedroom door closed, Rhea flipped on the light, pulled out her journal, and started writing. Everything she’d discovered and her feelings about what she'd learned went into the journal.

  When she was done, she scanned backward in time, to entries written long ago. Her parents had encouraged her to keep a journal, to help her manage her active imagination. It had been a long time between entries, as her so-called imagination had seemed to repeat itself on a predictable basis and she hadn't felt the need to keep writing it down.

  Tired from a stressful night, Rhea turned off her light and closed her eyes, hoping that she would make it through the night without destroying her bed or screaming.

  ~~~

  Daen stood in the tall grasses and watched the sun set behind the mountains. It was his favorite time of day. Over the years, he'd come to this place often with the hope he would receive a sign from his home world or, even better, a way back would be presented to him. Of course it hadn't happened. He hadn't stopped coming to this spot, but after a while he’d stopped thinking it held some significance in his mission.

  When the sun was below the horizon, he turned towards the house. Dinner would be ready soon and it was his turn to set the table. Before he took his second step, however, he felt the power of the Libraim course through his body. Stumbling, he caught himself before he dropped to the ground. He spun around, scanning the yard and the woods. It had happened just as it had twenty-one years before. And just like then, he saw nothing. Disappointment pressed against his chest but he fought it, not allowing it to take control like it had in the past. After determining there was nothing to see, he turned to the house again.

  Pam glanced at Daen when he came in. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

  "Just about. It happened again."

  "The crushing sensation? Did it knock you down?" She glanced down his body, looking for injuries.

  "No to the crushing and almost to the falling down. I felt the Libraim for the first time in more than twenty years." He pulled the plates from the cupboard and started setting the table.