Becoming: The Balance Bringer (The Balance Bringer Chronicles Book 1)

by Debra Kristi

  Fumbling the shard in my hand, I wonder if it can help me communicate with her. Expelling the thought from my head, I focus on where to begin. Her phone would be the ideal place, except the last place I saw that was...I don’t want to think about the night of her death, but of course that’s when I last saw it. Mom must have the phone, except then it wouldn’t make sense for her to send me on this hunt. I opt to boot up Crystia’s computer and check for contacts in her email. Thankfully, her computer remembers the password and automatically opens. Unfortunately she never saved any contacts, so it’s a dead end. How can someone not have a single contact in their email? Wish I knew her passwords so I could access her online hangouts.

  I set the shard down and stare at the screen, feeling hopeless, when I get the urge to check the top drawer of her nightstand, and voila—her phone. Weird. With the phone hugged in my grip, I head down the hall toward the kitchen and Mom.

  Mom and I sit at the kitchen table together, divvy up the names, and determine who to call personally and who to assign to a friendly call-forward list. It’s painful, saying the same hurtful thing more than once. Time crawls. Two minutes feels like an hour. After four calls, I excuse myself and take a small break in my room. Only there’s no escaping this, not really. I’ve only managed to trap it in a small space with me. Flipping back and forth on my bed, I can’t fathom how people get through the grieving process and maintain their sanity. Glancing at the computer, I decide to do the rest of the work online. Pushing off the bed and moving to the computer, I boot the thing up.

  It gradually bleeps to life. Several seconds pass before the screen brightens and is ready to go. Opening my email, I prepare to draft a letter announcing the service. My inbox clangs. Dreading more sympathy mail, I partially close my eyes as the messages load. One by one they scroll in, and my stomach drops out.

  “Crap!” I exclaim, shoving away from my desk and away from her.

  Madame Marrouske’s words scream in my head. “Anala Danika Raine, return to Hiddenkel and claim your destiny. Join the Bringer line in the Palinot Woodlands. Time for you to save the worlds. Bring the balance back into alignment.”

  I don’t want to be responsible for everyone else. I’m too young.

  Mom appears in my doorway. “Anala, what is it?” Her eyes sweep the space like she’s prepared to fight, finally coming to rest on my computer screen.

  “Cool it, Mom. There’s no enemy here,” I say, seeing the true her for the first time.

  “Madame Marrouske’s been emailing you?” She leans in close to the screen.

  “Yeah. I didn’t trust her the first time and deleted them.” I return to the computer, click on one of the emails, and open the link. Madame Marrouske and her black obsidian crystal ball pop onto the screen.

  “Just as I remember her,” Mom says.

  I swivel in my chair and watch Mom take a seat on the bed. “I saw you, you know. With the psychic and Kaia, when Kaia was little.”

  She nods lightly in return. “When I first met Madame Marrouske, I was a new bride and new mother in a mixed marriage, dealing with unrest among the Fae. Imagine my upset when I realized my child was the beginning of the Triune.” Her gaze meets mine, and I see the sorrow set deep. “Maybe I should have been honored, but I knew the costs. I would have to lose two of my girls, and that didn’t sit well with me.” She squeezes my hand.

  “Madame Marrouske told you what Kaia was?” I say, trying to make sense of what she’s telling me.

  “I already knew.” Her hand cradles the side of my face, a meager smile at her lips. “Your colorful eyes and golden hair are your tell-all.” She shakes her head. “It was the arrival of Marduk’s sister upon hearing the news of our newborn that had us concerned. No good could come of it.”

  “Dreya?”

  “Yes. We stalled, unsure how to handle her. Madame Marrouske solved our dilemma, arriving at our back door already aware of the danger. Using her magic, she cast a protection spell camouflaging Kaia’s true features. From that day forward, her golden hair was seen as chestnut brown and her eyes as green. No one outside of the immediate family and those present at her birth knew the truth.”

  I frown. “And all this took place in Hiddenkel. A place you told me you’d never heard of.”

  She shrugs, drops her head.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose, rubbing the tension away. “Does this mean you’re ready to come clean? Because this email confuses me.” I slap the air. “Why is she emailing me? She’s an old crow. Shouldn’t she be sending magical messages? Parchment paper or something?”

  A smile cracks the worry lines at the corners of my mom’s lips. “They are magical messages. Can’t you see? She’s meeting you on the ground you’re most familiar with: modern technology.” Mom runs her hand gently along my hairline. “She’s reaching out because she wants you to come home. She’s your mystic, and you’re the Bringer.” She glances away. “I can’t deny it any longer.”

  Oscar jumps into my lap, selfish for attention. I oblige with long, gentle strokes across his fur.

  “Let’s see what you got.” She glances past me to the screen. “I believe I can clear this up. Janssen is the name we chose after fleeing Hiddenkel. Only the last name was changed, making it less confusing for you and Crystia.” She points to the screen, then glances to the following lines. “Anala Danika Raine was the name given to you at birth.” She mumbles as she reads.

  “That there.” I point. “What are the Palinot Woodlands?”

  Her lips press into a straight line. Her chest rises and falls. “That’s a place I had hoped you would never have to go. No one goes there, no one other than the Balance Bringer, for somewhere deep within the Palinot Woodlands lives her mystic. Every Bringer has been known to go there seeking guidance.”

  “Why doesn’t anyone else go there?”

  “I’ve heard those that venture in wander, lost, until they stumble back out again. If they are lucky to do so, that is. Some are never seen again.”

  “Are you saying it’s a death trap?” I press my palms to the seat, my body stiffening as fear spikes in my voice.

  “I don’t think that’s it, so much as it’s a difficult maze.”

  The term twists in my head, and I envision myself trapped in a maze made of trees and bushes in the forest. I shake the thought away.

  “What about this, then?” I point to a line mimicking words I read at Lily’s Lovelies.

  Awaited Phoenix, Resurrected Scorpio, touched by Sagittarius Fire

  “What does it all mean? What is the Awaited Phoenix? Is it some sort of unwritten code that everyone in Hiddenkel must talk in riddles?” I throw my hands up. My body moves restlessly. My hands rake through my hair. Something inside of me is ready to snap. “First there was you and Ry with all your secrets, pushing me to the point of madness. Then Jaden was popping up in my dreams with irritating riddles, not to mention the damn pull. Kaia would throw crap at me that I’d have to figure out, and now Crystia has to go and die, leaving me here alone. And Ry isn’t herewhen I need him most.” I slam the heels of my palms into my thighs. “It’s totally beyond frustrating!”

  Pop! The power flickers, and the screen goes black. A foul stench of burnt plastic wafts through the room, and my computer sends up smoke signals. Now I’m completely annoyed. I’m out a computer.

  Mom stands behind me and rubs my shoulders. “You need to calm down. Everything you stated is fair and understandable. I’ve apologized, and I’m sorry I kept Ryland from telling you everything. He’s argued me on that point for some time now, so go easy on him.” She kisses my head and starts to leave the room.

  “Mom!”

  When she looks back at me, I point at the now-blank computer. For a moment she appears confused, then the light goes on.

  “Oh. So sorry, Anala. Yes, well, the Awaited Phoenix is actually making reference to you and the fact the Bringer is reborn ever few eras or so, like a phoenix reborn from the ashes. The other part has to do with your birthd
ay. You are a Scorpio child with a birth date on the eve of Sagittarius, touched by her fire. Understand?”

  Tension wrinkles my brow. “Not really. I’m a Libra.”

  “True, but only because I made it so. It’s not your intended birthday. I had a little help changing the date to throw your energy off balance. Just enough so Dreya hasn’t been able to track you.” She takes a deep breath and relaxes against the door. “That would explain the latter part of the message, ‘born out of sign.’”

  “Oh my god, Mom! What did you do? You knocked my energy out of balance. Did you ever stop to think what that might mean for my destiny, the whole Balance Bringer thing? Or just me in general? Maybe that’s why I keep blowing things up. What if I’m so screwed up now I can’t get Crystia back?”

  The light above me bursts.

  Ignoring the light, Mom stares me straight in the eye. “It’s kept you safe these past eighteen years, and I’d make the same choice all over again. Would you rather be dead at the hands of a heartless killer?”

  She steps back into the room, and as she does, her words throw me back to the meadow when I was Kaia, dying at the hands of Dreya. I shake my head. I don’t want that.

  “Those are the hard choices one must sometimes make as a mother. Someday, you’ll understand.” She plucks me from the chair, wrapping me in her embrace. “And you’ll make mistakes, as I have.”

  ####

  Tonight I choose Crystia’s bed over my own. Oscar lies at my side, not his usual self. I imagine he feels her loss much like I do. When she left, she ripped a huge chunk out of me and took it with her. Uncomfortable and unable to sleep, I twist and tangle in the sheets throughout the night, and Oscar eventually leaves. Even the smell of peaches doesn’t sooth me. I could use some of Ryland’s tea. But alas, Ry’s not here.

  Sleep and I don’t connect until the wee hours of the morning.

  I dream of Ry’s broken body lying beside his mangled car, off some desolate road. I scream for help, and no help comes. I search for my phone, only to find I have none. I run to him, collapsing at his side. Tears, so many lately. I try to clean the dirt and blood from his face. Hysteria rises through my core, and I wipe desperately with my palms and sleeves. A delicate hand descends upon mine, stopping me.

  “Anala, darling, stop. This is not Ryland. Merely a manifestation of your worries and fears.”

  Gazing into Kaia’s face, relief washes over me.

  “Come.” She takes my hand, gently guiding me away from the wreckage.

  Glancing behind me, I watch the scene fade. The air begins to shimmer and change. When the rippling stops and the scene sharpens, an awe-inspiring location comes into focus. Sunlight sneaks in through small cracks in the cavern ceiling, showering the chamber in a kaleidoscope of color. A dazzling spectrum reflects off every surface, giant crystals creating the walls and columns. It’s the most resplendent thing I’ve ever seen. Places like this aren’t real. They’re the stuff of make-believe.

  I turn in a circle, ogling the sight. “Kaia, where are we?”

  “At the source. Where the spark begins.”

  “You’re speaking in riddles. Are you saying the crystals are the beginning?”

  “The crystals are the source. You will need to go to them. Find them, and you will find what you seek. The answer lies within. The tower is also important, but different.”

  “What do I seek?” My stomach is in a knot. Maybe what I seek is no more riddles.

  Clutching my wrist, she turns me to face her. “You will know when the time is right.”

  “You’ve lost me. Where is this place?”

  Her lip twitches, curling into a sympathetic smile. “Hiddenkel.” The air stills, and Kaia gazes right through me, destroying my barriers. “You will understand. It is your birthright to become, and we shall be,” she places her hand on my cheek, and her eyes soften, “together.”

  “I know. We are the Balance—”

  The thought screeches to a halt, my gaze drawn toward a large crystal at the back of the chamber. There’s something inside of it. No, not something. Someone.

  I’m not the slightest bit sociable. Not at all. I stand alone, away from the crowd. Conveniently positioned in the corner of the church entry, where I can watch the people as they greet one another upon arrival. I tug at my collar, watching Mom handle meet-and-greet duty, making sure everyone signs the guest book. What we want with that book is beyond me. I can’t imagine ever wanting to look back on this day.

  Beside the book is a collage of pictures featuring Crystia, framed along the sides by two tall vases with budding white lilies, asters, and chrysanthemums bridging the space across the top. The pictures paint a canvas of Crystia’s life, showing her laughing with classmates at the yearbook committee, hanging out at the school library, and acting like a goof during lunchtime. Mom included a snapshot of her learning how to ride a bike and helping at the Farmer’s Market. I placed the picture of her and Caesar front and center, making it the focal point. It’s my favorite.

  Twisting my wrist out in front of me, I watch the crystal on Crystia’s wristband, the one I snagged and now wear, catch the light from the window behind me. Spears of light dash across the walls and carpet. It’s a reminding she’s always with me. Kaia too. Listless, I abandon the light show and tug at the pendant at my neck. It’s Kaia’s, and I haven’t the words for how I felt when I found it on my dresser this morning, a note attached from my mom. Both of my sisters are with me now. If only symbolically. I breathe deeply and turn away for the crowd entering the church.

  Wanting to avoid uncomfortable interaction with people, avoid having to pretend I care about their condolences, I try to duck into the sanctuary via a side door, only to be grabbed by my mom and pulled into the usher’s room. The room is small with only two folding chairs. She points to one.

  I sit. “What’s going on?”

  “I know how close you were with your sister, and today is going to be difficult.”

  I put my hand to my heart, feeling the constant ache grow more intense with the realization of our broken family. “For both of us. You just lost a daughter.”

  “Yes. I won’t deny the pain. But I always knew this day would come. You didn’t.” She smooths her dress. “There is someone here who can help you today.”

  She opens the door, and Jaden enters the room. I quickly stand, knocking the chair over. When he looks at me, I see both tenderness and sadness in his eyes. My body is a mix of emotion, a war raging inside of me—delight at the sight of him, sorrow over the occasion, and guilt for feeling anything but.

  I blink, clearing my head. “I thought I might never see you again. We’re leaving town soon.” I wring my hands. “What are we doing here?” I gesture around the room as I look between the two of them.

  Mom motions to Jaden. “He is the one from the other night, am I right?”

  I nod.

  “I’ll let him tell you.” She starts to slip out the door.

  “Wait, Mom.” I step after her, and Jaden catches my arm. I stare down at his hand and the touch that is growing all too familiar, with its desired tingle between our skin binding us.

  “Let me help you, please.” He extends his other hand.

  I study him, feeling uncertain.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he says softly, his eyes pleading with me.

  “I know.” My heart stumbles, hooking and accelerating. Just being in his presence brings me serenity. “I just don’t see what you can do for me right now.”

  His chest heaves, and his brow furrows. “Experience speaks louder than words. Why don’t you let me show you?” He runs his hands down my arms.

  Warmth engulfs me. A twinge of guilt runs through me, and I lift my arms, attempting to shove his hands away. The emotions he stirs are inappropriate for my sister’s day of mourning. Shame and anguish wash across his face, and his hands snap back.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, before taking a seat in one of the chairs.

  I
sit opposite him. “Don’t be sorry. You were only trying to help. We only just met, so I don’t know how you’d be able to do much of anything. You don’t know me that well.” I talk to my hands, twisting them anxiously in my lap.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I might surprise you.”

  His words draw my gaze to meet his. I know he’s more than just the new guy at school, and I want to know all about him. Now doesn’t feel like the right time. My attention snaps to the door. Butterflies and yellow jackets war in my stomach, anxious over Crystia’s pending service.

  My gaze twitches back and forth between him and the door. “Something tells me you’re right.”

  “But you don’t feel now is the time,” he finishes for me.

  I nod, smiling despite the situation.

  “I’ve been known to pick up on a thing or two. How about this? I promise to tell you all about myself after the service, if you allow me to help you now. Can you agree to that?” He lays out his hand like he expects me to shake on it.

  I stare at his open palm, all too aware of what touching it will bring. “Can you tell me one thing?”

  His face takes on a whenever-you’re-ready look.

  “Why was I pulled to you the way I was? Even now, why is our touch so…different?”

  “Will you refuse to touch me until I answer?”

  I take a deep breath, let it out, and then slip my hand into his palm. Instantly we’re twined with corded heat. I wait for his answer.

  “This feeling will always help us identify each other,” he says. “The intensity at the start ensured our connection. I am meant to see you through your time of transition, Ana. You’ll begin to experience things, and your system may need help adjusting. I am that help.”

  My mind wanders back to overhearing his private conversation across the lunchroom during school. How he stood up for me—sort of.