Paramount

by Nadia Scrieva

  Her watch beeped again, indicating thirty seconds. She sighed. “I’m waiting for that miracle. Any time now. Thirty seconds, universe. That’s the magic number—I live for glorious bite-sized chunks of thirty minutes at a time, so let’s use the next thirty seconds to work a miracle and make my existence permanent…”

  Para was distracted by a disturbance in the air near her. Her dark indigo hair was ruffled as though someone had walked by, but no one was present. “Hello?” she called out, her voice echoing through the vacant restroom stalls. The lights in the bathroom began to flicker. Para’s hands tightened around her knees as she glanced up at the lightshow curiously. There was a sound at the door, as though someone was trying to enter the locked room. Clanging sounds reverberated in the vents.

  “Hello?” she asked again, sitting up and tossing her legs off the side of the counter. She stuffed her phone into her purse. “Is someone there?” There was the low drone of some sort of electric surge an instant before the room was plunged into pitch darkness. Para’s watch beeped to indicate that there were only ten seconds remaining in her merger. “Great,” she said aloud, “just what I need to…” She paused in her ranting as a chill settled in the air around her neck and shoulders. She reached up to touch her gooseflesh and found that the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up.

  Her body sensed the trouble before she did. Something’s wrong here, she realized as she peered through the darkness cautiously. As her watch began beeping faster, Para noticed a strange green glow reflected in the creases of the mirror she had shattered. The broken glass was amplifying and distorting an inhuman figure. Para gasped when dozens of bloodshot eyes became visible in the shards of the mirror. A split second later, they were gone. Her watch began to frantically remind her that she was about to divide just as the green glow intensified. Para raised her arms to cover her face as an icy wind suddenly swept across the room, making her hair billow up madly.

  She felt massive frozen hands with sharp fingernails dig into shoulders, and another pair of burning hands on her waist. Finally, a third pair of hands clamped down on her hips and sent a potent electrical surge through her entire body. She screamed at the dizzying pain. In that moment, her body separated from itself.

  The piercing shriek which hung in the air was not her own. As it faded away, Pax groped for its source blindly. “Mara!” she shouted, trying to touch the woman who had been part of her a moment ago. “Mara!”

  Pax used her hands to create a giant flame which she cast before her like a torch. She knew that the blonde woman should not be more than a few feet away from her, but the room was empty. In their fleeting instant of vulnerability as their bodies divided, Amara Kalgren had been taken.

  The lights turned back on. “Dammit! Fuck!” Pax continued to curse as she tossed her flame at the already-destroyed mirror. Her indistinct reflection began to melt. She instinctively knew that she had to find her friend, and fast. Someone or something had known precisely when to attack the girls, and this meant that they were being watched. It meant that her hallucinations of beasts in the backseat and creatures hovering over her at night might not have been figments of her imagination. Pax had to grasp the countertop with both hands to brace herself as she thought of her mother’s dead body. Feeling nausea churn the dairy products in her stomach, Pax tried to push the images from her mind.

  Pax wanted to run to her father for help, but she was still upset about his lies. She wanted to run to Vincent for help, but she had promised the man that no harm would come to his daughter and he would be murderous. She had to do it on her own. Pax tried to replay the events leading up to Amara’s abduction in her mind. She was not even sure whether there had been one creature or several in the bathroom stall. It had all been a hazy blur of mirrored green smoke. Pax grabbed her purse and shopping bags, moving to the door, bursting through the narrow sheet of wood without bothering to unlock it first. She ignored the several women who had been impatiently waiting outside to use the facilities as she levitated off the ground and flew past them in a blur.

  Moving at lightning speeds, Pax swept through the mall and alighted on top of the glass roof of the shopping mall. She dropped her bags in a discreet place on the roof so that she could close her eyes and scan the surrounding area for Amara. The girl’s life force was nowhere to be found. Come on. Concentrate, Pax. The dark haired woman lifted her fingers to plug her ears to drown out the whirr of downtown traffic. She tried to focus on searching with her heart and mind, using her interior senses to see deeper than the superficial world around her. When she felt a blip in the distance, to the northeast, she nodded slightly.

  Here goes nothing, she thought to herself as she removed her hands from her ears and pressed them to her abdomen. As the teleportation initiated, Pax felt her body dematerializing to weightlessness. She concentrated on Amara’s life force and imagined the woman’s pale blue irises. She hoped that she would see her friend’s face the next time she opened her eyes.

  When her body felt solid again, the incessant city sounds had disappeared. She inhaled and found a change in the consistency of the atmosphere. There was less oxygen. Pax tentatively allowed her eyelids to separate, and she was met by the precise pair of pale blue eyes she had been imagining—but they didn’t belong to the right Kalgren. Pax immediately stumbled backwards, horrified that she had teleported inches away from Thornton. He reached out to catch her because he had been standing at the sharp edge of a mountaintop.

  “Just the girl I’ve been looking for,” he said as he pulled her away from the vast drop.

  “Please, not now,” she whispered as she tried to pry his arms away from her. Her high heels skimmed the edge as she struggled to push away from him, sending small rocks tumbling down below.

  “I’ve been calling you,” he said, before glancing down at her clothes. “Going somewhere nice?”

  Pax froze, seized by the fear that he would recognize Para’s clothing, but when she looked down she was wearing her own simple, black long-sleeved dress. The more feminine and alluring half of the garment had disappeared with Amara’s hopefully still-living body. She looked back up at Thornton’s familiar face. There were all kinds of reasons she should bolt away and get back to finding Amara, but she somehow felt comfort in the sight of him and could not look away.

  “I really screwed up this time, Thorn,” she said softly.

  He recognized the serious note in her voice and released her arms. She levitated slightly and lowered herself a few feet away from him on the rocky terrain. Looking around, she recognized the lofty location. “This is where we used to come and meditate when I was in high school,” she said in wonder as she stared down at the forested landscape through the thin, wispy layer of clouds.

  “It was one of your favorite places,” Thornton said, studying her face. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere. I really need to talk to you. Pax… what’s wrong?”

  She realized that she had turned to observe him, and was gazing a bit too fixedly. Pax was considering telling him about Amara and enlisting his help. But how could she tell him that she had allowed his sister to be taken from right under her nose? She could not explain without mentioning Para and their joined bodies. Even if she tried to conceal the details, inconsistencies would be found out and their union would be discovered. If she revealed their secret, Amara would be upset. Both girls were heavily emotionally invested in the ploy, however ridiculous it seemed now that her friend’s life could be in danger. Pax shut her eyes tightly, knowing that she had to find her friend alone.

  “You’re worrying me, Paxie,” Thornton said in a low voice. “I can tell by the look on your face that something serious has happened. Tell me how I can help.” When she didn’t respond, but just continued staring at him, he pressed again. “I know you better than anyone, and I know that you’re upset. Let me help.”

  “If I did something really horrible and unforgiveable, would you still love me?” Pax found herself asking.

  �
��Always.”

  She nodded, satisfied with the answer. “Thanks. Really appreciate it.” She moved her hands to connect her fingertips against her abdomen. The last thing she saw was Thornton’s arms reaching out towards her as her body faded from that moment in time and space.

  “Pax, wait…”

  Her teleportation swept her away from his grasp. When she was whole again she fell to her knees, overcome with dizziness. She blinked to clear her vision and saw that it was night. There were large white bones bathed in moonlight all around her. Where am I? she wondered to herself as she struggled to rise to her feet. She recognized the sleek formations which tapered to a point as tusks which had once belonged to elephants.

  “Mara?” she called out feebly. Hearing the pathetic sound of her own voice echoing through the natural graveyard, she cleared her throat and yelled louder. “Mara!” Her teleporting was not only inaccurate and faulty, but it sapped her strength. Amara was evidently not in this location or anywhere nearby. I teleported to her once before, and I did it while barely concentrating. Why can’t I do it again? Pax moved her hands to her stomach, creating the shape of a heart around her bellybutton and initiating a new teleport.

  Pax was suddenly in a crowded sports bar. She frowned at the noise and scanned the room. “Amara!” she shouted. A few men turned to look at her, but most of the bar ignored her. She gritted her teeth together tightly. Walking up to the bar, Pax reached out and grabbed the front of the shirt of the bartender. “Did you see a blonde woman in here a few minutes ago?” she demanded.

  “Whoa! Baby, this ain’t the kinda joint where you find any women. Are you lost?”

  “Dammit. Dammit!” Pax reached out and grabbed the nearest glass of whiskey right out of a man’s hand and drank it in a single gulp before trying to teleport again. This had better work, she thought to herself as she fixed her hands together just below her ribcage. Her back and shoulders had broken out into sweat, and the heat of fear was traveling throughout her body. What if she never found Amara? A pulsating migraine was beating the insides of her skull as she attempted the challenging technique again. And again.

  Dozens of scenic empty landscapes, and dozens of crowed cities later, Pax finally found herself collapsing, dizzy and disoriented in the middle of a desert. She had no idea for how many hours she had been popping all over the planet, screaming Amara’s name until her throat was sore. “Dammit,” she whispered hoarsely to herself one final time. She stared up at the sun, and watched through blurred vision as the orange sphere divided itself into two suns. She peered curiously at the warped image of two distinct balls of fire. She imagined that each orb was the eye of a mother tigress in the sky who roared down at her to open her own eyes.

  That’s it, she thought to herself. One sun became two suns. Just like Para dividing in two. When we disconnect, there’s still something of Para left in both of us. We’re changed somehow. Amara’s energy won’t feel exactly the same as I remember, because she’s stronger—there’s more goddess in her. The particles in the blood that Rose always talks about—there should be some residue of Para’s blood in both me and Amara. If I try to search the unique signature of my own prana, and isolate the change in myself, maybe I can lock on to the feeling of the new energy and find her…

  It occurred to Pax, as she closed her eyes and tried to focus, that Amara was being intentionally concealed with magick. She realized that whoever had taken her friend was not just another kidnapper after a generous Kalgren ransom, and not just another beastie in the night after a juicy meal. This was part of a sophisticated plan by a complex enemy. Asura, Pax thought as she placed her hands over her chest and tried to gauge the feel of her own energy. She remembered the demon that had sunk its claws into her chest during the nightmare. It’s the Asura.

  Once she memorized what her own power felt like, Pax gathered up the last bit of her resolve and tried to teleport away from the desert. Nothing happened. “Come on!” she said, looking down at her fingers splayed against her abdomen. “Work!” When she did not manage to budge from the spot, Pax felt helplessness begin to truly saturate her veins. She regretted not telling her father, Vincent, or even Thornton that Amara had been taken.

  She had placed her friend’s life in jeopardy just to conceal their secret. For the sake of Para’s games, she had sacrificed Amara. Shame and remorse joined the helplessness as Pax dug her hands into the hot sand on either side of her body. She stared up at the two suns through eyes blurred with tears. “Take me to her!” she shouted hoarsely before slamming a hand down on her chest brutally.

  Pax found herself disappearing again, and felt the familiar sickening zephyr of weightlessness. She let herself go completely and trusted that she would be taken to her friend. When she was solid again, she abruptly found that everything around her was not. Again, there was a change in the consistency of the atmosphere, but this time, there was not less oxygen. There was no oxygen. Thick, dark yellow clouds seemed to be suffocating her with a foul scent. Pax was falling rapidly through the noxious fog and was too exhausted to levitate and catch herself. As the heat increased, she felt the fabric of her black dress melting and simmering against her skin.

  She opened her mouth wide and tried to gasp for breath, but her lungs were filled with the poisonous yellow filth. Her eyes watered and burned as she blinked away the acidic gases. “Mara,” she wheezed. But she was pretty sure that her friend wasn’t here either. In fact, she was pretty sure that she had royally screwed up and teleported clean off the planet. It certainly didn’t smell anything like Kansas. Her last thought before losing consciousness in the middle of her whirlwind, breakneck fall, was that she should have told Thornton she loved him too instead of trying to be tough.

  Chapter 17: Create One Beautiful Thing

  A woman with long white hair sat atop a white horse, staring down at Pax with dismay. She was blindingly beautiful, and when she spoke, her voice was so ridiculously sweet that Pax wondered if she had bells on her fingers and toes.

  “Child, you don’t need oxygen. Breathe with your blood.”

  Although feverish and possibly delirious, Pax followed this advice to the best of her ability. She relaxed and allowed her prana to draw energy from the ground, from the air, and from the world around her. The temperature was intensely hot and Pax groaned as she shifted her position on the ground. While it felt like every bone in her body had been broken from the fall, the heat was so penetrating that she was sure it was melting the marrow inside those already crushed bones. As quickly as sweat could appear on her skin, it instantly evaporated. She squinted and saw that behind the gorgeous white-haired woman, the sky was the color of dark mustard.

  “Are you a deva?” Pax asked.

  “Something like that,” the woman answered.

  As Pax examined the stately woman, she felt a small twinge of nostalgia for her own long hair. It was impossible to look upon the woman’s silver tresses without feeling a touch of jealousy. Even so, the mustard-colored sky was the real party piece. “Are we on…” Pax hesitated. She had been into space before, but it still sounded ridiculous to say it out loud. “Are we on Venus, and if so, how is it possible that you’re riding a horse?”

  The woman laughed, and it sounded like a peal of bells. “There is no horse. You see with your eyes, child. I imagined someone would have taught you to see the world more deeply. I can choose to appear in any form I wish, and the horse is merely an extension of my energy. A fashion accessory, if you will.”

  “Using a horse as a fashion accessory,” Pax mused with lifted eyebrows. Well, Amara would dig that.

  “I can wear a different body, if you prefer. The person you most wish to see, perhaps?” The woman smiled, and with a shimmer, the horse faded from under her body. As she levitated slowly to the ground, her silver hair began to darken and curl softly around her shoulders. Her pale face became infused with lifelike color. Soon, she was smiling sweetly from pink lips and the darkest blue eyes, in a face that Pax recognized wel
l.

  “Mom?” Pax said as she quickly scrambled to rise from the ground. Only then did Pax realize that her clothes had mostly melted from her body, and there were only black clumps of liquefied synthetic fibers clinging to her skin in various places. However, the vision of the woman before her was so heartening that she didn’t care. Logically, she knew that the form-shifting creature was not her mother, but it did not deter her from eagerly approaching the figure.

  “Dear child,” said the apparition of Bridget Burnson as it reached out to take her daughter’s hands. “Welcome to Ishtar.”

  “My mother was human,” Pax said, trying to shake away the foolish emotions. “She could never have survived in these conditions.”

  “Yes. Bridget Burnson only used rudimentary magick under the supervision of her husband to further her career. What a great beauty she was,” said the woman, touching her own face, “much like her daughter would be if she cared about her appearance.”

  Pax was surprised by how much the apparition sounded like a chastising mother. “Well, I don’t.”

  “Of course not, dear,” said Bridget, moving closer and stroking Pax’s short locks. “You’re a tomboy through and through. But you can’t fool me; I know you miss your hair.” As the woman ran her fingers across Pax’s scalp, the black tendrils began to glow like fire and lengthen. In a few seconds, Pax’s hair had returned to its original length around her waist.

  Pax sighed blissfully and moved her head from side to side, testing the comfortable weight. She laughed, feeling suddenly herself again; it was as though her hair had not only lengthened, but she had grown several inches and become somehow greater. She suddenly realized that this was a distraction from her purpose and her eyes narrowed. While Pax did feel thankful for the return of her hair, her intimidation at the casual show of the woman’s power was far greater than her pleasure. “Please, ma’am. I am looking for my friend Amara Kalgren. Have you seen her?”