Golden Stair

by Jennifer Blackstream

  “Kirill, what have I told you about asking of your people what you’re not willing to do yourself?” Irina chastised her husband, overriding Isai’s increasingly disparaging rant.

  “It’s all right, everyone,” Adonis called out, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “The will o’ wisp will guide me. I’ll be fine. Isai should stay here. If anything were to happen, he would have the best chance of finding us. And Irina, you must stay with Kirill. I don’t like to think of what would happen to the world if anything happened to you.”

  Before anyone could argue, Adonis knelt down and groped for the painting. As he’d expected, his hand passed through. He offered a grin to the room. “Wish me luck.”

  Chapter Nine

  Ivy stared at the cup of tea. The delicate china with the green spirals curling around its edges sat on the table in front of her, soft billows of steam rising from its dark depths. It was such an ordinary sight—nothing there that should have surprised her at all. Except she was out of tea.

  “I’m losing my mind,” she whispered. She raised a hand to cover her eyes, counting to ten before peeking through her fingers at the table. The tea was still there.

  Ivy sank into the sturdy wooden chair beside the table, the same chair she’d sat in so many times while her mother had fixed them dinner. She dragged her gaze from the cup of tea and hesitantly eyed her surroundings.

  Everything looked as it should, as it always had. The tower that she’d lived in her entire life was still standing, her books still lined the shelves near to bursting, the smell of paint still drifted off of the canvases tilted against the wall to dry. All was as it should be.

  Only…this wasn’t how it should be.

  Pain throbbed in Ivy’s temples and she lifted her hands to apply pressure. A memory was trying to make itself known, but every fiber of her being warned her to ignore it, to push it away. Whatever the memory was, it would only bring misery. She knew it.

  Nervous energy seized her body and she shot up from her chair to pace tight circles around the room. Suddenly she strode to the window and looked out at the land. The lake beside the tower glistened like melted sapphires in the sunlight. The fresh scent of leaves tickled her nose as the trees swayed in the gentle summer breeze. The wind slid warm fingers of air through her golden tresses and she raised her face to bask in the warmth of the sun.

  Heat sizzled along her nerves, sparking painfully. Ivy winced and rubbed her arms, trying to rid herself of the prickly sensation. The buzzing became a burn, biting at her skin like acid. Ivy shrieked, staring down at her flesh.

  “What’s happening?” she whispered, her eyes so wide the breeze made them water. A tear slid down her cheek and Ivy moaned. “Mother, help me.”

  “Ivy, what is it? What’s wrong?”

  Ivy whirled around, her lips parting in shock as her mother rushed to her side. Dame Gothel took Ivy’s hand in hers, staring into her daughter’s eyes with concern shining from her face.

  “Mother?” This wasn’t right. Was it? Why did it seem so strange that her mother was here?

  “Ivy, you look so pale. Come in, dear, lie down.”

  Ivy stumbled as her mother led her back into the tower and up the winding staircase to her room. She blinked, confused for a reason she couldn’t name, as her mother guided her to lie in bed.

  “Wait,” she said, her mind fighting to tell her something. “It’s the middle of the day.” She put a hand to her temple as if she could ease the pounding headache that was forming. “You’re never home during the day.” Her mind flashed to Adonis, and she saw an image of him climbing her hair to get to her window, the sunlight glinting off his sparkling hazel eyes as he smiled up at her. Adonis.

  “Ivy?”

  Ivy jumped, her heart seizing in her chest as she raised her face to see Adonis standing next to her mother. Her jaw dropped and fear slithered down her spine as she waited for the inevitable moment when her mother would rage at finding an incubus in her daughter’s bedroom.

  But Dame Gothel didn’t react. Instead, she just stood there, watching Ivy with motherly affection shining in her gaze.

  “This isn’t right,” Ivy murmured, shaking her head. “No, this isn’t how it would go. Mother would be furious if she knew you were here. She’d…”

  Pain lanced through her head and Ivy stumbled, clutching her skull. She looked to her mother, a new image superimposing itself over the woman standing beside her. She saw Dame Gothel’s face twisted in rage, her eyes nearly glowing as she raged that Ivy had betrayed her. Ivy’s golden braid that had been coiled in a pile beside her on the bed a moment ago, vanished. The frayed ends of her hair caught her peripheral vision and her lip trembled at the memory of her mother’s knife shearing through her tresses as she’d cried.

  The image of Adonis wavered as well and Ivy sobbed.

  “Adonis, don’t leave me,” she moaned.

  The dam that had been holding back the memories burst. Ivy leapt off the bed as she was swarmed by images, sounds, and emotions. She fell against the doorframe as she remembered Adonis taking off into the sky, leaving her behind. She crashed into the table, sending the teacup to shatter against the floor as she remembered the way her mother had enchanted the painting and shoved her into it, abandoning her to an empty desert of her own creation.

  Memories, colors, emotions, threw Ivy around like a grain of sand in a hurricane. She put a shaky hand to her forehead, her chest heaving with every breath. An eerie, semi-hysterical peace suddenly fell over her like a blanket, muffling the flames of her panic. She crouched on the floor, clutching the sides of her head as she gathered her wits. She was in her painting. In a desert. Or not a desert? It had been a desert when her mother dragged her painting before her, but her tower…?

  The energy inside her throbbed and Ivy raised her gaze to her window and closed her eyes. Remembering what Adonis had taught her that day he’d helped her get to the astral plane, she tried to feel the energy around her. It was her painting, wasn’t it? Her creation. She’d made these dunes, this sun, that sky. If it had been infused with magic…

  She imagined herself standing outside, looking at her tower from the ground. Memories of the scent of grass, the sound of lake water being churned by the wind…

  When she opened her eyes, she stood in front of her tower.

  “It’s not real,” she said numbly. She closed her eyes as she let the thought settle in her mind, felt the weight of its truth. Her mother had pushed her into her own painting, infused it with magic. No. Not infused it with magic. Awakened the magic. The magic in her painting. Ivy’s magic.

  A sharp laugh escaped Ivy’s throat and she opened her eyes to see her tower had vanished. Gone was the stone structure that had been her home—no, her prison—for her entire life. Gone was the lake that she’d so often yearned to put her feet in, the grass that she’d wanted to run in. The trees, the clouds—everything was gone and she was alone in a silent wasteland.

  “I’ve been living in a dream…for how long, I wonder?”

  On some level, Ivy knew she should be feeling something. Pain, sadness, anger, fear…something. But for now, in this moment, she was absolutely calm. Eerily so.

  Her mother had always told her that her magic could only be used for healing. She’d been adamant about that fact, had hammered that point into Ivy’s brain for as long as she could remember. But Adonis was right. It had been a lie. The energy inside her shifted again, a powerful swell like the undercurrent of one of the vast oceans she’d read so much about.

  Her mother had lied.

  “…you are not human… I know an elemental when I see one. You are too solid to be a pureblood elemental, but believe me when I say that someone in your family tree lives in a beam of sunlight.”

  Adonis’ words floated back to her. At the time she hadn’t believed him. Her mother had told her they were human, and she’d had no reason to doubt her. Until now.

  She could feel it. She could feel her power building, fed by t
he sun as it heated her flesh. She closed her eyes, searching her mind and her soul. There was no one here to ask for help discovering what she was, and even if she knew what she was, she didn’t know what she would do or where she would go. Before she did anything else, before she took another step, she had to figure out what she wanted. Once she had a goal, a real goal—a goal that was hers and no one else’s—then she could start. Then her life would truly begin.

  “Mommy? Are you okay?”

  Startled, Ivy opened her eyes and whirled around. Two children stood a mere few feet behind her. The girl had long golden hair that fell to her waist and brown eyes so light they looked gold. The boy had a shock of wild brown hair in total disarray around his head, and hazel eyes that sparkled with mischief. Her eyes warmed with tears and she tilted her head. He looked so much like Adonis…

  Ivy beamed at the children. Behind them, a small cabin stood surrounded by lush green trees, an oasis in the desert that had not been there moments ago.

  “What a happy dream,” Ivy murmured. Her shoulders drooped. “But it’s just a dream.”

  There was a crashing somewhere deep in the trees, leaves ripping and branches snapping like dry bones. Ivy tensed. For a moment she worried that the fear in her mind had somehow manifested itself without her intention, her power delving into her imagination for things to create much as it had with the children and the cabin, only this time malicious and dark. It would be the nightmare on the astral plane all over again.

  Without thinking, Ivy put herself between her children and the threat, holding her hand up and preparing to wipe the entire scene away if necessary. She straightened her spine and faced the trees. This was her world. Hers, and no one else’s. She would not be made to cower here.

  A figure stumbled free of the trees at last. At first, all Ivy could see was a pale grey cloak, wrapped around broad shoulders. The stranger’s legs and feet were bare and Ivy winced at the thought of how painful it had to be trudging through the forest without the protection of shoes. She jumped back as the figure plunged a few steps forward only to run into the side of the cabin she’d only recently created.

  “Bloody hell, I thought this was a barren desert,” a man’s voice groused. Hands rose into the air and the sleeves of the cloak fell to reveal strong, muscled arms.

  Ivy blinked, but kept her hand pointed toward the newcomer. “Are you all right?” she called out.

  The figure twitched on the ground and shot into a sitting position. The hood of the cloak fell back and Ivy gasped.

  “Adonis!”

  His flesh was covered in healing cuts and his eyes were opaque milky orbs, but she would know him anywhere. As soon as she called out for him, his hand flailed in the air in front of him.

  “Ivy?” he said hoarsely. “Ivy, is that you? I can feel your energy…”

  It was strange that her mind had created another image of Adonis. Perhaps her brain was trying to tell her something?

  Or maybe, I need to get over him and find someone who actually wants me, she thought bitterly. She waved a hand at Adonis, waiting for him to vanish as the other images had. The image remained. Ivy closed her eyes and counted to ten. When she opened them, Adonis was still there. Her spine went ramrod straight and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

  “Ivy, say something, please,” Adonis begged. “I can’t see you. You’re just a ball of golden energy now.”

  Ivy put a hand over her mouth as she crept toward him. “Adonis? Is that really you?”

  “Ivy!” He stood and leaned forward, taking a few careful steps. “Where are you?”

  “What happened to you?” Ivy whispered.

  She carefully reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, startled when he tensed and reached out to snatch her into his arms. He crushed her against him and for a moment she remained stiff, confused. Part of her wanted to throw her arms around him, to ask him how he’d found her and beg him to take her away. The other part of her remembered the sight of him flying away, leaving her behind with no more than a vague promise that he would return someday.

  For a moment, he didn’t speak. They just stood there, his arms banded around her like iron clamps, the warmth from their bodies mingling together. Ivy couldn’t get the image of his unseeing eyes out of her head. A seed of unease burrowed deep inside her and began to grow.

  “Adonis, how did you find me here?” A lump rose in her throat. “Did you go to the tower first?”

  His body shuddered with a heavy breath. “Yes. Ivy, can you ever forgive me?”

  “Forgive you for what?” Ivy pulled back to look him in the eyes, wincing when she was reminded he couldn’t see her. The white orbs in his eye sockets twitched as though he were trying to focus on her.

  “For being so stupid as to let your mother catch me in your tower. For trying to wreck the life you had when I didn’t have anything better to offer you.” He slumped against her. “For not telling you the truth about why I couldn’t stay.”

  Ivy’s heart pounded as she curled her fingers into his tunic and leaned back. “And what is that truth?”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll tell you the whole story, I promise, but first we need to get out of here. How did you get here?”

  Pain bit at Ivy’s heart as an image of her furious mother leapt into her mind, bringing the weight of that moment and all its fear with it. She pressed her lips together and shoved the memory away. She would not dwell on that. A new life was within her grasp and she would not give it up.

  “My mother knew you’d visited me,” she said softly. “She flew into a rage, I don’t understand why.” Her voice broke a little, but she ignored it. “She was so angry. She cut my hair.” Suddenly self-conscious, Ivy reached up to feel the jagged ends of her hair. Then she remembered Adonis couldn’t see her and she felt horrible for thinking of her hair when he had lost his sight. “She grabbed one of my paintings and used magic to make it some sort of portal,” she continued meekly. “The next thing I knew, I was falling into this desert, alone.”

  Adonis’ face had contorted as she’d told her story, but she wasn’t sure if it was anger or guilt. Perhaps a combination of both. He hugged her and she let him. The feel of his strong arms around her settled something inside her. She laid her head on his shoulder, allowing herself a moment to just be grateful he’d come back for her.

  “It’s my fault,” he mumbled against her neck. “She saw me leaving and like a fool I wasn’t even trying to hide what I am. She probably just assumed I’d deflowered you.”

  “But why would that matter?” Ivy murmured. “I mean, she was completely enraged.” Tears welled up in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. “She threw me away like I meant nothing to her. She’s my mother.”

  Suddenly Adonis’ breath hitched. Startled, Ivy jerked back. “What? What’s wrong?” She leaned back to look at his face and it was her turn to gasp. “Adonis…your eyes.”

  Shock held Ivy ramrod straight as the tears she’d cried shimmered like melted gold as they slid down Adonis’ skin. Red light beamed softly from his opalescent eyes. The light became brighter and brighter, seeming to burn away the milky blankness that had been there moments before. She held her breath as the red faded and was replaced by the sparkling hazel eyes she’d first fallen for. Adonis beamed at her, raising a hand to brush a stray tear from her cheek.

  “You are even more beautiful than I remember you,” he said softly. He toyed with the ends of her hair. “So beautiful.”

  Ivy trailed her hand down his jaw line before smoothing a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “I missed you,” she admitted.

  “Obviously.”

  Adonis’ freshly healed eyes sparkled as he stared at something over her shoulder. She looked behind her, surprised to find the two children she’d subconsciously created still standing where she’d left them. She squeaked and swept her hand through the air. The children vanished.

  “You want to have children with me,” Adonis teased.

  Ivy blush
ed and glared at him. “I—”

  “Ivy!”

  Her mother’s voice shattered the peace and Ivy froze. Adonis roared, his face twisting in pain. The smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils and Ivy screamed. Adonis fell to the ground, twitching beside her. His skin had black scaly patches and angry red blisters. Tiny flames erupted along his flesh and he screamed again. Fingers closed like gnarled claws around her arm and she found herself being hauled backward.

  “Get away from him, Ivy, he’ll hurt you!”

  Every inch of Ivy’s body went rigid as her mother’s voice reached her ears, buzzing along her nerves like angry flies. Without dragging her attention from Adonis’ pain ridden body, she scrambled to gain her footing and jerked away so she could stand.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, finally facing her mother.