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 about 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,
"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 about 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,
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