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 well.
“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?”
“One of the Kalgren devas. Have you two girls been getting yourself into trouble?” Bridget asked with a smile. “Let me help you find your friend, Pax Burnson. Something tells me that she is closer than you think.”
Pax felt comfort and relief wash over her. She wondered what degree of that comfort was due to her mother’s image, at which she could not seem to stop staring. When the woman extended her arm, Pax took it eagerly. “Thank you so much for your help,” she said sincerely as they began walking. “I’m not sure, but I think Amara was taken by some kind of glowing green creature. Does anything like that live around here?”
“Dear child, look around.” The woman gestured to the landscape graciously. “Nothing lives here except for the beings I have created specifically for these conditions. Is that not the task of a goddess? To create that which others cannot conceive? My children would be frozen solid in the temperatures of Earth, but here, they are comfortable.” The woman glanced sideways at Pax with a small smile. “Are you comfortable, darling?”
Pax had been gazing a bit rudely at the profile of her mother’s face. She realized for the first time that it was kind of creepy to allow this woman to wear her mother’s body like an ornament. She looked away. “It’s only about eight hundred degrees. I’m comfortable, but I wish I had dressed for the weather,” Pax said softly, glancing down at the remnants of her destroyed outfit.
The woman laughed again, producing the same achingly melodious sound. “That is easily remedied.” She waved her fingers ever so slightly, and Pax felt a refreshing coolness envelop and caress her body. It felt divine and pleasant, and was so sudden that it caused her to sharply inhale a gulp of carbon dioxide. Looking down, Pax saw that she had been garbed in a white dress made of something like silk. The fabric was so light that it was almost transparent. “Is that better?” the woman asked.
“Yes,” Pax answered politely as they continued walking. She was still embarrassed at being so uncovered, but the garment did provide some modesty along with relief from the blistering temperatures. Although the woman was being extremely kind, Pax felt a bit distrustful about her intentions. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but are you sure Amara is nearby?”
“Yes, child. Do not worry. Your friend is safe.”
Pax felt a sick sensation in her gut. She wouldn’t believe it until she saw Amara. “I don’t even know who you are. Why are you helping me?”
“I knew your grandfather,” the woman said, patting Pax’s arm. “Kaden Burnson. What a man! If ever there was a god to be loved and feared… but I never did understand why he chose to live among humans. What a disappointment.”
“What do you mean?” Pax asked.
“You Burnsons and Kalgrens forsook the old ways, you know. But I suppose the old ways are meant to be forsaken. Personally, I didn’t leave Earth until my husband forsook me.”
“Your husband?”
“He was a deva. The deva. He placed perverse constraints on my abilities.” The woman turned to Pax and raised her chin proudly, almost regally. “My personal motto has always been to create one beautiful thing every day. What is the point of having celestial powers if we are restricted from using them?”
Pax nodded, thinking of her father. She thought of Raymond’s lies, meant to stop her from developing familiarity with her heritage. “I understand that,” she said, “but sometimes people who love us may restrain us for our own benefit.”
“Is that what they call it?” the woman asked with a laugh. “Darling, the only reason to keep someone else down is so that you can remain above them. There is never any harm or danger in allowing someone to grow and learn about their natural abilities. There is, however, tragedy in scaring a person into submission and forcing them to walk a mediocre path far from their deepest inclinations.”
Pax forgot how to breathe with her blood for a second, and her body began shutting down on her. She had to concentrate to focus on drawing energy from the ground and very heat which was suffocating her. “You know too much about me,” Pax said finally, when her brain stopped aching from the lack of oxygen. “Have you been watching me?”
“I can read your thoughts, child. Is that so farfetched?” The woman smiled. “It seems to me you have some experience with that sort of thing. As I scan your mind, I see a great many similarities between you and me.”
You’re a fat, hideous, disgusting cow. Pax thought, just to test whether the woman was really a true telepath. When there was no reaction, Pax’s suspicions grew. I’m about to strangle you, crush your head with rocks, and then… uh, rape you, because I’m actually a transvestite truck driver from Arkansas? When Pax saw that the woman had absolutely no reaction to any of these outlandish and shocking thoughts, she had her answer.
Instead of saying any of those things, Pax asked, “How are we similar?”
The woman’s face remained completely serene. “Like you, I possess power, although my foolish husband tells me I must conceal it. I delight in using my power. It is who I am.”
“I haven’t used my powers as much as you think,” Pax said. She was growing upset, and wanted to see evidence of Amara’s safety as soon as possible.
“Yet, you are greater than a human. You have the fire of life in your blood. Tell me, how can they expect us to bottle ourselves up and waste our lives away being mundane?” The beautiful woman’s eyes narrowed in anger. “We are so obviously special, and we should be allowed to express that.”
“I agree,” Pax said, “but my mother was human, and I am mostly human.”
“Child, tell me you don’t get a thrill from being able to stand on the surface of Venus. It’s positively torrid but it barely bothers you. I can’t say the same for your little friend. Can you imagine how the delicate-but-stylish Miss Kalgren would fare in these conditions?”
“Where is she?” Pax asked sternly. “Please take me to her. She’s not strong enough…”
“And whose fault is that? By pretending to be human, Miss Kalgren has become as weak as any human. You know the laws of nature. The strong succeed and the weak perish.”
Pax stopped moving, standing completely still. “What do you want from me?” she asked abruptly. “I’m listening.”
“It’s simple, Pax. I want you to see the possibilities that stretch before us.” As the woman spoke, she raised her arms before her. The ground began to tremble with the onset of an earthquake. Pax levitated off the ground to prevent her body from being agitated and tossed around. A pointed black object began to rise from the dark soil at a rapid rate. As the woman wearing Bridget Burnson’s body lifted her hands, it became evident that a structure was emerging from the surface. Pax recognized it to be a palace. It seemed to be made from a dark kind of steel.
Pax was filled with a simultaneous anxiety and anticipation. Even the rumbling of the ground caused a thrill in her gut, and the ascending palace filled her with wonder.
“It’s gorgeous,” Pax said, once the terrain ceased trembling.
“Thank you,” the woman said proudly. “It took me more than a day to create this. I call it the Palace of Ishtar. It remains hidden beneath the ground to protect it from those who would seek to harm me. A woman must protect that which she owns.”
“I’m impressed,” Pax said, trying to gain control of the naked astonishment splayed across her facial features. “I’m really just… blown away.”
The woman smiled graciously. “I want to be a different kind of ruler here than I was on Earth. Sakra is such a foolish man. He observes everything from his little temple in the mountains, but what does he really do?”
Pax froze. Even in temperatures exponentially hotter than the most brutal desert on earth, she managed to feel her blood run cold. “You’re Sakra’s wife. That’s who you are.”
“Yes—you should have been able to gather that by now. I am Suja, Queen of the Asura.” The woman’s body began to transform once more, and Bridget Burnson’s dark hair swept into the classy blonde French twist worn by the scientist Rose Kalgren. Her dark eyes transitioned to pale blue effortlessly, and all of her new features looked at Pax as kindly as Amara’s mother truly would have. “I would reveal myself to you in my true form, but I fear that I have long since forgotten what that even was.”
Pax’s pupils had dilated, and her mind swam wildly as she processed this information. Sakra’s wife was a supremely powerful being. She was sure that there was some formal way to address the woman, but all she could think of saying was, “It’s nice to meet you.” She mentally slapped herself for how retarded she felt this sounded, and tried to cover up by asking the important question. “Is Amara in the palace?”
“Yes, of course. Why do you think I brought you here?” The Asura woman smiled with Rose Kalgren’s classic witty and mischievous smile. “There’s a bit of air conditioning inside. And oxygen, if you like that sort of thing.”
“Thank god,” Pax said.
“Why, you’re very welcome.”