herself. “I'm sorry I
kept this to myself.”
“Oh, I'm sure you had a good reason for
keeping something like this from the atoc,” he barked
indignantly.
“I did,” she snapped back, “but I'm showing
you now, so please . . . .” She didn't finish her sentence; she
just stepped to the side and pointed to the glowing words on the
wall. “These,” she sighed, “are the events that must take place to
save Lor Mandela.”
Jonathan was already reading through the
Advantiere. “You said that Anika diseased the planet?”
“Yes. She was trying to take over as
vritesse.”
“And that's what's causing the weather, and
the animals, and . . . .”
“Yes.” She couldn't tell if he was fully
grasping the concept or not.
“Child of balance?” he mumbled, “Ours?”
She nodded.
“So, this is who told you we were having a
girl?”
Gracielle nodded again.
“Twins must live,” he sighed heavily. “Wait
a second! So because Anika and Lantalia . . . ? Is this why you
wouldn't tell me? Because the twins are gone? Did you honestly
think I—the highest ruler in Lor Mandela—didn't need to know that
we're all doomed!”
“That's not it, Jonathan!” she retorted
loudly. “I didn't tell you because . . . .” She'd given her word to
Ultara that she wouldn't tell her secret, but Jonathan was right.
As the high ruler of Lor Mandela, he needed to know. “I didn’t tell
you because of the other twins.”
“Other twins?” Jonathan's expression changed
from angry back to skeptical. “There aren't any other twins. There
haven’t been other twins for over a hundred years.”
“Yes, there are . . . or, at least, there
were.”
She took a deep breath and told Jonathan
everything. She explained how Ultara had altered Nenia, and that
Ryannon—Darian's son—was her twin brother. “Ultara made me promise
not to tell anyone, but now, with Nenia gone, I don't know what we
can do!”
At that moment, Jonathan realized why
Gracielle had gotten so upset about Nenia's disappearance. Nenia
had a part in the Advantiere, but was no longer around to carry out
the role she had to play. He stared unresponsively at the words
shining on the wall. “Maybe the answer is still in here somewhere,”
he mumbled, rubbing his forehead. “We'll need to get some of our
best minds working on it right away.”
Gracielle looked at him like he was out of
his mind. “Jonathan! We can't!” she insisted.
“Why not! We need other opinions . . . other
views!”
“But Jonathan,” she
pleaded, “if word gets out that our baby is the ‘Child of Balance,’
she’ll never have any peace; I doubt she'll even be safe! I don't
feel right telling anyone else about Nenia and Ryannon, either.
Besides, it says right here that the riddle must be solved for or
by her. She can’t solve it if she hasn’t even been born!” Gracielle
was now pacing wildly in the small space available in front of the
wall. “Oh . . . and how, exactly, do you think people will react to
the news that Lor Mandela is dying? You know it’ll cause world-wide
panic! We need to
keep this between us! The state of the world depends on
it!”
Jonathan felt like his head was going to
burst. Thoughts were racing rampant through his mind, piling
haphazardly one on top of another. They all seemed to end in one
horrific image though—Lor Mandela disintegrating into a fiery
oblivion. He was overwhelmed and—for the first time in his somewhat
sheltered and protected life—very frightened.
After a few uncomfortably silent seconds, he
turned his attention back to the glowing crimson message on the
wall.
“Her father's hatred die for love to grow?”
he read. “What is that supposed to mean? Am I just supposed to
forgive Ultara for killing my parents?”
Gracielle looked at him with a somewhat
stunned expression on her face. “What? Do you really hate Ultara?”
she asked. She knew that Jonathan was angry over his parent's
deaths—and justifiably so—but she never
kept this to myself.”
“Oh, I'm sure you had a good reason for
keeping something like this from the atoc,” he barked
indignantly.
“I did,” she snapped back, “but I'm showing
you now, so please . . . .” She didn't finish her sentence; she
just stepped to the side and pointed to the glowing words on the
wall. “These,” she sighed, “are the events that must take place to
save Lor Mandela.”
Jonathan was already reading through the
Advantiere. “You said that Anika diseased the planet?”
“Yes. She was trying to take over as
vritesse.”
“And that's what's causing the weather, and
the animals, and . . . .”
“Yes.” She couldn't tell if he was fully
grasping the concept or not.
“Child of balance?” he mumbled, “Ours?”
She nodded.
“So, this is who told you we were having a
girl?”
Gracielle nodded again.
“Twins must live,” he sighed heavily. “Wait
a second! So because Anika and Lantalia . . . ? Is this why you
wouldn't tell me? Because the twins are gone? Did you honestly
think I—the highest ruler in Lor Mandela—didn't need to know that
we're all doomed!”
“That's not it, Jonathan!” she retorted
loudly. “I didn't tell you because . . . .” She'd given her word to
Ultara that she wouldn't tell her secret, but Jonathan was right.
As the high ruler of Lor Mandela, he needed to know. “I didn’t tell
you because of the other twins.”
“Other twins?” Jonathan's expression changed
from angry back to skeptical. “There aren't any other twins. There
haven’t been other twins for over a hundred years.”
“Yes, there are . . . or, at least, there
were.”
She took a deep breath and told Jonathan
everything. She explained how Ultara had altered Nenia, and that
Ryannon—Darian's son—was her twin brother. “Ultara made me promise
not to tell anyone, but now, with Nenia gone, I don't know what we
can do!”
At that moment, Jonathan realized why
Gracielle had gotten so upset about Nenia's disappearance. Nenia
had a part in the Advantiere, but was no longer around to carry out
the role she had to play. He stared unresponsively at the words
shining on the wall. “Maybe the answer is still in here somewhere,”
he mumbled, rubbing his forehead. “We'll need to get some of our
best minds working on it right away.”
Gracielle looked at him like he was out of
his mind. “Jonathan! We can't!” she insisted.
“Why not! We need other opinions . . . other
views!”
“But Jonathan,” she
pleaded, “if word gets out that our baby is the ‘Child of Balance,’
she’ll never have any peace; I doubt she'll even be safe! I don't
feel right telling anyone else about Nenia and Ryannon, either.
Besides, it says right here that the riddle must be solved for or
by her. She can’t solve it if she hasn’t even been born!” Gracielle
was now pacing wildly in the small space available in front of the
wall. “Oh . . . and how, exactly, do you think people will react to
the news that Lor Mandela is dying? You know it’ll cause world-wide
panic! We need to
keep this between us! The state of the world depends on
it!”
Jonathan felt like his head was going to
burst. Thoughts were racing rampant through his mind, piling
haphazardly one on top of another. They all seemed to end in one
horrific image though—Lor Mandela disintegrating into a fiery
oblivion. He was overwhelmed and—for the first time in his somewhat
sheltered and protected life—very frightened.
After a few uncomfortably silent seconds, he
turned his attention back to the glowing crimson message on the
wall.
“Her father's hatred die for love to grow?”
he read. “What is that supposed to mean? Am I just supposed to
forgive Ultara for killing my parents?”
Gracielle looked at him with a somewhat
stunned expression on her face. “What? Do you really hate Ultara?”
she asked. She knew that Jonathan was angry over his parent's
deaths—and justifiably so—but she never
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