by Rye Brewer
“But that portal was different. I didn’t need a cloak or to have a spiritwalker in me to enter it.”
“True. That one serves a different purpose. It will allow for other types to enter.”
“This is where Shades live?” Sara asked, sounding just as naïve as I felt when I first arrived with Jonah.
“Yes. You’ll find that most non-human creatures live in realms of their own. Not like vampires and werewolves, who try to live alongside humans. It’s safer this way.”
“Now that we’re here, I have so many things to tell you both.” Including telling Sara about Allonic’s relation to us. It would be best to tell her in a wide, open place like where we stood. Less chance of me getting fried up.
“Not here,” Allonic warned, holding a hand up to silence me. His golden eyes swept over the surrounding area. “There might be Shades around here.”
“You think that’s a problem?” I asked, suddenly wary.
“You remember what happened to you, don’t you?” he asked, his eyes boring into me.
“What happened to you? Why don’t I know about any of this?” Sara asked.
The spiritwalker. Like I could ever forget. “I’ll catch you up.” I turned back to him. “And yes, I do remember.” I would never forget the way they tried to torture me in that little chamber, making me crawl around like a worm on the floor.
“It’s better for us to be someplace further away, where prying ears can’t overhear.” He lifted one long arm, the sleeve of his cloak hanging down, and pointed a long finger in the direction of what appeared to be a tower climbing up to the sky. From where we stood, however, it was roughly the size of the span between my thumb and forefinger. A trick of perspective, the way humans took photos of themselves “holding up” the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
“Wow. Do you think we could getany further away?” I asked with a grin. He only shook his head and scowled before stepping between Sara and me, then wrapping his arms around us.
“We have to course there,” he announced.
I didn’t have the chance to draw a breath before we were on our way. He practically lifted us off our feet and did all the work for us.
That was a relief.
I was exhausted, and I knew Sara was, too.
We slowed, then stopped, at the base of the tower. It was much, much bigger up close than it appeared from far away—almost the side of the Bourke high-rise, if not taller. Instead of glass, the tower was made of big, irregular stones of all colors and shapes, held together with what looked like mortar but which, on closer inspection, sparkled like glitter.
“What is this?” I asked in a hushed voice.
“Legend has it, the stones are held together with diamond and gold dust. I’ve never actually found out for sure whether that’s true, but it makes a certain sort of sense. Diamonds and gold mean little to us. They’re as good for holding stones together as they are for anything else.”
I only shook my head in amazement. The stones were cool to the touch and seemed to vibrate with magic. I could feel the magic moving up my fingers, then across my palm.
I looked up again at the vines which wrapped their way around the height of the tower, vines covered in flowers of every color in the rainbow. I could just imagine how beautiful they’d be in daylight—and imagining was all I could do, of course.
“How old is it?” I asked, still marveling at its beauty.
There were windows here and there, dotting the otherwise smooth appearance. They were narrow and tall, and all I saw through them was inky darkness. What was inside?
“There’s no way of knowing, but some of the records I’ve found mention this tower as early as seven-hundred years ago.”
“And it’s still standing,” I murmured. Of course, it would be. It was probably enchanted. No way something so beautiful could exist for so long without an enchantment or some other kind of spell.
Sara craned her neck and looked straight up. “Don’t tell me we’re going to the top,” she muttered.
“What if we are?” Allonic asked in a tone that was as close as he got to teasing.
“I would say you’re crazy. The roof touches the clouds!”
“You’re not afraid of heights, are you?” he asked in that same half-teasing tone.
“No. I’m afraid of falling from heights.”
They looked at each other and exchanged a shy smile.
My heart warmed.
“Come on. We can course up the stairs the way we coursed here. It will take much less time, trust me.”
Allonic led us inside, and I realized I was holding my breath as I stepped across the threshold and onto the stone floor. It was just like the exterior. The interior walls, however, were framed in wood, and the stairs circling the inside in a spiral going all the way to the top were wood as well. It made me dizzy to stand in the center and look straight up.
Allonic took us both under his arms again and coursed up to the top, which took longer than I had expected.
It really did touch the clouds.
By the time we reached the end of the stairs, which led to a wide landing and a closed door, the air felt much cooler and damper than it had on the ground. I took hold of the railing to keep myself steady as I adjusted to being up so high. I couldn’t even look out a window to get an accurate idea of how high up we were, but just knowing how tall the tower was seemed to be enough.
I felt a little woozy at first.
Sara started to crane her neck to look down. “Don’t do that,” Allonic warned. “Trust me. You’ll get dizzy.”
“I believe you,” she murmured with a shaky laugh.
“Why are we so high up?” I asked. “I mean, did we really have to go so far out of our way to be alone?” Hundreds and hundreds of feet in the air, up thousands of steps? It seemed a little much.
He said, “This is how our mother stays safe.”
I let out a strangled gasp. “Our mother?”
I had no idea he was taking us to her. I only thought he wanted to keep us safe.
Our mother.
My heart beat double-time and rang in my ears.
Our mother.
He nodded. “Shades can’t portal to the top of the tower and can’t course to the top, either, so she would be able to hear anyone who walked along the creaky stairs well in advance of their reaching the top.”
“Except for you, of course,” I added.
“Of course, since I’m not a full Shade.”
In the middle of all this, I hardly noticed when Sara started to spark and sizzle. I should have been paying better attention to her. It was so easy to forget sometimes that she didn’t know nearly as much as I did—and besides, I was too caught up in the thought that I was about to see Mom for the first time in so many years.
“Our mother?” Sara’s seemed to crackle like the rest of her. “What does he mean by our mother?”
I gasped. “Sara. Let me explain.”
She ignored me. “First of all, our mother,” she pointed to me, then to herself, back and forth a few times, “is dead, and she has been for a long time.” She turned to Allonic. “And she’s not your mother.”
Allonic didn’t say a word.
“Sara, please. You have to calm down.” I wondered if the wood all around and under us was flammable.
She was working herself up into a massive emotional state. I would have warned her if I had known we were going there. To the place where our mother had been living.
I threw Allonic a dirty look as I tried to quiet my sister before she lost control again.
Suddenly, the door opened. Three heads turned in the direction of the open doorway—and the figure standing in it.
“Anissa. Sara.” That voice. That same voice.
I couldn’t believe it—I had seen Allonic’s memories and I knew they were true, but it wasn’t the same as hearing her sweet, familiar voice. A voice that had soothed me when I was sick, a voice that praised me, a voice that rang out in laughter so many times, I’d lost count.
It was her.
“Mom?” I forgot about Sara for a second and threw myself into my mother’s arms. She held me tight, and she even felt like Mom. I would know her hug anywhere.
“Sara!” Allonic’s voice rang through the tower, echoing, bouncing off the walls.
I turned to see my sister shaking, twitching, with bolts of lightning running up and down her body until she collapsed onto the floor with her eyes closed.
She went perfectly still.
2
ANISSA
“Oh, Sara!” I threw myself over her. “Sara, wake up!”
Mom sank to her knees on the other side and turned her head from side to side, patting her cheeks. Her skin was scorching hot, but she was breathing.
“Quick, get her inside.” Mom rose to her feet and rushed in.
I heard water sloshing around.
Allonic lifted Sara in his arms like she weighed nothing at all and I followed him into the chamber.
There was a chaise lounge by one open window, which Allonic stretched her out on.
The air coming in was cool and fresh.
Mom hurried back and sat on the edge of the lounge, wiping Sara’s forehead with a cool washcloth.
I still couldn’t get over it. Mom. Our mother. She was real.
“Please, get me a bowl with more water from the tub,” Mom said without looking up.
Allonic did as she asked while I stood there, rooted to the spot. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
With the moonlight streaming through the window and the glowing, dancing light from a few lanterns placed here and there, I got a clear look at her.
She was her, but not her. I couldn’t get over it.
The Mom I remembered used to have very pale, almost translucent skin. The woman sitting in front of me, however, had a deep tan. Not quite as dark as Allonic’s skin, but much darker than what I was used to.
She bathed Sara’s forehead with so much tenderness, my chest ached.
Dipping the cloth into the cold water, wringing it out, touching it to her cheeks, her neck, her chest. She ran it down the inside of her arms, her inner wrists.
“She’s burning up,” Mom murmured, and there was no question as to who she was when I heard her voice again.
“I guess it’s from all the electricity,” I uttered. “It created too much heat for her to bear.”
“When did that happen? How did it happen?” She looked up at me and did a quick double-take when she noticed the intensity of my stare.
What was a frown turned into a soft, tentative smile. The lines on her forehead smoothed out. “I know I look different now,” she said, her voice low. “I’m sorry if that’s a shock to you.”
“It’s all right,” I whispered back, and I couldn’t get my chin to stop trembling.
She blurred and doubled as tears filled my eyes, then spilled over onto my cheeks. Mom opened her arms, and I fell into them, weeping helplessly.
I knelt there in front of her, and she stroked my hair, rocking me back and forth the way she used to when I was just a little girl.
Humming the same old tune—I never knew what song it was, or if it was actually a song at all, but it was the song she had always hummed when she was rocking either of us.
I closed my eyes as the tears continued to flow, soaking into the soft, cream-colored tunic she wore. It even smelled the way I remembered her smelling. I breathed deep, wanting to capture all of her that I could.
“My baby,” she whispered. Her hand on my head was like balm on my soul.
I felt instantly soothed.
All the hardship and pain and questions, endless questions, of the last couple of months melted away as she stroked my hair.
I was afraid of holding her too tight, thinking I might hurt her, but I was just as afraid of letting go. What happened if I found out it was all a dream? What if none of it was real, or if she went away again? What if I never got another chance?
“Mommy,” I wept. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. Both of you. Oh, you’ll never know how much my heart has ached. How my arms ached to hold you again.” She pressed her lips to the top of my head. “I love you so much. I’ve always loved you, every minute.”
I pulled away and smiled up at her. She wiped the tears from my cheeks with her thumbs, then took one of my hands as she continued to apply cold water to Sara’s skin with the other.
“You look well,” she murmured. “Beautiful, just the way you always were.”
“So do you.”
“Even if I look different?” she asked, her eyes cutting to mine before moving back to Sara’s face.
“Even so,” I grinned.
I looked around the chamber. It was comfortable enough, or looked that way. Along with the lounge which Sara rested on were a pair of plush, soft chairs.
Off toward the back of the room was what I guessed passed for a kitchen, with a table and chairs and even a stove which vented out through the roof.
To the side just beyond that was a bed with a chest at the foot. I noticed the drawing supplies on the kitchen table and wondered if she had been working on something when we arrived.
“Are you comfortable here? Are you happy?” I asked.
“As happy as I can be,” she said, sounding the way a person sounds when they’re trying to be diplomatic.
She wasn’t happy, obviously, but she was making the best she could of the situation.
“You can’t let anybody know you’re here,” I whispered.
“Sweetheart, I’m not even supposed to be alive,” she reminded me. “But let’s not talk about that now. What about you?”
“Oh. Maybe we shouldn’t talk about that, either,” I murmured, looking at the floor.
“That good?” Mom asked in her all-knowing Mom voice.
“Something like that, yes.” My head snapped up. “I’ve met Gregor.”
“You have?” Her eyes softened, and she smiled. “I always wanted you to.” Her gaze had that far away look. “I hope you understand.”
“I do. He told me all about you and how you met and how you fell in love. And how you couldn’t be together.”
She patted my hand. “It was all a very long time ago. He was very special to me. I want you to know that—and to know why I couldn’t tell you the truth. It was bad enough that many others already suspected my child wasn’t full-blooded.” Her eyes darkened, and her voice deepened. “So much prejudice and hatred, and for what?”
“I know.”
I didn’t want to share stories of how much worse things got for Sara and me once she wasn’t around to protect us anymore. There was no need to make her feel even worse.
“What do you think of your father?” she asked with a playful smile which wiped away her anger and sadness.
“He’s… forceful,” I said, trying to be diplomatic.
“That’s a nice way of putting it,” she chuckled. “What else?”
“He’s protective. I know he only wants what’s best for me.”
“That will always be so,” she agreed. “Even when he couldn’t be with you, he wanted to be. And he loved you, just like I loved you when we couldn’t be together.”
“He protected me when things got tough,” I added.
“Tough?” she frowned.
Right. She didn’t know about any of that.
“Oh, Mom. There’s so much to tell you. I don’t even know if I want to get into all of it right now.” I glanced over at Allonic, who sat at the table.
He stayed quiet, letting us have our moment.
“We have time now, my girl—and your brother told me about a few of the challenges you’ve faced, though I’m sure you have more to share. You were always so strong and brave. You never backed down from a challenge—that worried me, sometimes, since we need to know when to turn around and walk away if a challenge is too great.” She ran her hand over my head, down the side of my face. “You’re so lovely. Both of you. My beautiful girls. My heart is so full right
now, I can barely speak.” She looked over at Allonic. “All of my children, all together at once. It’s something I never dared dream, but it was always hidden in my heart. I don’t think I could be happier than I am right now.”
“I know what you mean,” I whispered, and the tears threatened again behind my eyes.
“What do you think of your brother?” she asked.
Nothing like being put on the spot, I thought. “It’s nice, having a brother,” I said, smiling at him. “I called for him tonight when I needed help with Sarah, and he came. I knew he would, if he could.”
Mom looked pleased, the way any proud mother would.
Sara stirred, muttering something, and we turned our attention to her. Her skin had lost the flushed, sweaty look it had when we first brought her inside the chamber. “She’s getting better,” Mom murmured, putting a hand to her forehead. “What happened to her?”
I looked again at Allonic, who nodded.
“I only found out about this tonight,” I began. “She’s exhibiting signs of being an elemental witch.”
“An elemental witch?” Mom’s eyes widened as she examined her daughter’s face. “I don’t believe it.”
“It’s the only explanation we could come up with. I mean, she shoots lightning from her hands, Mom.”
“Can she pinpoint when it began?” she asked.
“Not long ago. She never said exactly when, but it hadn’t been more than a few days since I last saw her. Maybe a week.” Or more. I had lost track, hadn’t I? “I sort of left her in the protection of a family of vampires while I took care of a few things. Including staying with Gregor for a little while.”
“I see. Well, you’re not your sister’s keeper. You couldn’t follow her around all day.” She looked at me. “You’re not to blame for this, you know.”
“I didn’t realize I thought I was until you just said it,” I admitted. “I promised I would protect her after I… after we left the mansion,” I said, not wanting to get into the torture Sara had gone through or what Marcus made me do to save her life. I would’ve gladly forgotten all about it, too, if I could. “You know Sara. She’s always needed protecting. She’s my little sister. Of course, I feel responsible.”