I lower my gaze, thankful that our conversation has steered far from the screaming match I envisioned, and yet in some ways I’m surprised to realize it’s worse. Impassioned arguing is pretty easy to hurdle once enough time has passed, but this, this sort of grudging acceptance I thought I’d be happy to get, wel , it leaves me feeling sad, lonely, and depressingly bleak.
“And when do you plan to head off on this journey?”
“Soon.” I nod, forcing myself to look at him when I add, “Pretty much now. No reason to delay, right?”
He buries his face in his hands, spending a few silent moments rubbing his eyes, doing his best to avoid me. And when he does look up again, he stares off in the distance, past the meticulously landscaped yard, past the pool, past the ocean beyond, to some troubling mental landscape viewable only to him, careful y shielding his thoughts.
“I wish you wouldn’t do this,” he says, the words simple but heartfelt.
I nod.
“But if you insist, then I insist on going with you.” He looks at me. “It’s too dangerous—too…” He frowns, pushes his hair off his face.
“Too vague, too uncertain—I can’t just let you trot off into the muck on your own. Ever, don’t you see? You’re my whole world! I can’t just al ow you to head off on some crazy old lady’s journey!”
His eyes meet mine, showing me the ful extent of his determination. But I’m determined too, and Lotus’s instructions were crystal clear: It’s my journey—my destiny—Damen is not welcome there. And I can’t help but think that there’s a reason for that—I can’t help but think that maybe this time, it’s up to me to protect him by insisting I go it alone.
And I’m just about to say as much when he reaches across the table, reaches for my hand, and says, “Ever…” His voice cracking in a way that forces him to swal ow, clear his throat, and start again. “Ever, what if you don’t return?”
“Of course I’l return!” I practical y jettison out of my chair, sliding al the way to the edge, hardly believing he’d even think such a thing.
“Damen, I would never leave you! Sheesh, is that what’s got you so upset?”
“No,” he says, voice steadier now. “I was thinking more along the lines of: What if you can’t come back? What if you get trapped? Lost in the muck? What if you can’t find your way out?” His stricken gaze meets mine, and it’s clear that he’s already experiencing some imagined, future loss despite the fact that I’m stil here, stil sitting before him.
But it’s not like I don’t get it. In fact, I completely understand.
Having lost me so many previous times, he’s terrified at losing me again just when he was sure he had me for eternity. The sheer depth of his emotion robbing me of breath, leaving me speechless, humbled, with no easy reply, no easy way to comfort him.
“It won’t happen,” I final y say, hoping to convince. “You and I are meant to be. It’s the only thing I’m absolutely sure of. And while I have no idea what to expect, I promise I’l do whatever it takes to find my way back. Seriously, Damen, nothing can keep us apart—or at least not for long. But for now, I have to go. And I have to go it alone, Lotus was clear about that. So please, please just let me do this, please just let me see where this leads. I can’t rest until I try. And while I know it’s a lot to ask, I real y wish you would try to understand. And if you can’t do that, then I wish you’d at least try to support me. Can you do that?”
But even though my voice practical y pleads with him to look at me, to respond in some way, he continues to sit in silence, lost in his own mental scenery.
Choosing to take a wild leap of faith and hoping he’l come along for the ride, I add, “Damen, I know how you feel, believe me I do. But I can’t help thinking there’s more to our story. An entire lifetime we’re both completely unaware of. I think it’s the clue, or maybe the key, as Lotus put it. The key that’l lead us to the reason behind al of the obstacles we’ve been plagued with for al of these centuries, including the one we face now.”
But, like I said, it was a leap.
A leap that lands flat on its face when Damen rises from his seat, moves away from the table, and looks at me briefly. His gaze bleak, his voice cold, clipped, tel ing me he’s a mil ion miles away when he says, “So I guess that’s it then. Your mind is made up. In which case I wish you al the best, and I look forward to your return.”
twelve
“You sure you don’t want to come in?”
I shake my head, meeting Jude’s gaze for a moment before shifting my focus to the barren winter stems that once bore the beautiful pink and purple peonies that lined the path from the drive to his door.
“So, you’re real y going through with this?”
I nod. Realizing I should probably try to answer at least one of his questions verbal y, but at the moment, I’m feeling far too choked up to speak. Unable to keep my mind from replaying that last scene with Damen—his final words, what he said about the possibility of my not returning, getting lost in the muck, unable to find my way back. The way he pul ed me into his arms just after, stopping just short of storming out of the room to circle back to me, his body moving toward mine almost against his wil . His embrace so warm, so al -
encompassing, so loving, so … brief, it served as a complete and total contrast for his words, which were nothing shy of cold and perfunctory.
And even though I could sense his inner struggle, even though I recognized the signs of someone striving to detach from an outcome they’re convinced can only end in heartbreak, I couldn’t help but expect something more.
Even though I knew I had to go it alone, even though I insisted the journey was mine and mine alone, I stil thought for sure he’d at least escort me to Summerland.
Pushing the thought from my mind, I resolve to focus on the present—on the space where Jude stands before me, the two of us flanking either side of his doorway.
“So where’s Damen, then?” He peers at the empty space to my right then eyebal s me careful y. “He’s going with you, right?”
I lower my gaze. Al too aware of the horrible way my throat tightens as my eyes start to sting—the usual warnings that a flood of tears is in the making, but I stop it right there. I won’t let myself cry.
Not here.
Not in front of Jude.
Not for something I’ve elected to do.
Final y pul ing myself together, I say, “It’s just me. This is something I’ve got to do alone. Lotus made that abundantly clear.” Lifting my shoulders as though it’s no big deal, and hoping he’l buy it too.
He leans against the door, hands shoved deep into his front pockets. And from the look of his quirked mouth, and from the slant of his spliced brow, it’s clear he’s doing just the opposite, trying to determine what could be going on between Damen and me.
But that’s not why I’m here, so I’m quick to wave it away, my eyes meeting his as I say, “Listen, I just wanted to stop by and say thanks.
Thanks for being such a good friend to me throughout al of these … lifetimes.”
He frowns and looks past me, focusing on the street just beyond, emitting some kind of sarcastic sound, a cross between a grunt and a groan, before he says, “Ever, you might want to save your gratitude for someone who deserves it. None of my actions have proved to be the least bit helpful. In fact, it’s pretty much the opposite—I’ve made everything worse. Seems I’ve got a real y bad habit of messing things up in a pretty big way.”
Since there’s no point denying it, I’m quick to agree, though I’m also quick to add, “Stil , I’m not convinced that’s your fault. If anything, I’m pretty sure it’s your destiny.”
He tilts his head, scratches his stubble-lined chin. “My destiny is to mess up your life?” He shoots me a skeptical look. “I’m not real y sure how I should feel about that.”
“Wel , no, not just that. I’m sure there are much better things in store for you—things that have nothing to do with me. What I mean is, maybe th
at’s our combined destiny, you know? Like maybe you and I keep meeting throughout al of these centuries for a reason neither of us has ever thought of before…” I peer at him, trying to get a read on how that went over, but his head is leaning in a way that causes a tangle of dreadlocks to fal sideways, obscuring his face. “So, anyway…” I pause, starting to feel more than a little foolish for having come here. “I’m hoping the journey wil reveal that and more.”
“So, this is it then?” He pushes his hair away, al owing his tropical gaze to light on mine.
“Looks like.” I try to smile, but just barely make it.
He nods, body jerking ever so slightly, like he’s holding something back—caught in a struggle between saying what he wants and what his better sense wil al ow. Final y settling on the latter when he says, “Then I wish you Godspeed.”
He moves away from the door, moves as though he just might embrace me but changes his mind at the very last second and drops his hands to his sides.
And before the moment can get any more awkward than it already is, I breach the space between us and hug him tightly to me.
Holding the embrace for a moment, a moment that feels somehow suspended, then I pul away and end it. Aware of the wave of Jude’s energy, his usual cal ing card of cool, calm serenity that continues to flood through me.
Holding, lingering, strangely enduring, as I make my way toward my car, and head for my next set of good-byes.
* * *
After stopping by Miles’s only to learn he wasn’t home, I swing by Ava and the twins’ only to find they’re gone as wel . Then I stop by Haven’s old house, the one she shared with her little brother Austin and their parents. Parking on the street, seeing a FOR SALE sign stuck in the lawn and an open house in progress as a long line of looky-loos stream in and out. And I wonder if her parents even realize she’s gone, that she’l never return. Or, if they’re stil looking past her, al around her, everywhere but at her, just like they did when she was stil here. And since I’m already mired in a deeply blue mood, I decide to drive by Sabine’s, but that’s al that I do. I don’t stop. I don’t go inside. I already said a silent good-bye last night.
And with no further reason to delay, I cruise down the next street, abandon my car at the curb, close my eyes, and manifest the portal that leads me to Summerland. Landing in the vast fragrant field with its pulsating flowers and shivering trees, and stealing a moment to enjoy the pure, unadulterated splendor of it al —the unmitigated mass of beauty, love, and everything good—before I find my way out and venture toward its opposite side. The place where the trees are al barren, flowers don’t grow, and magick and manifesting do not exist.
My suspicions confirmed the moment I notice the thin trail of muck leading from Haven’s memorial al the way to the dark side I first stumbled upon.
It’s growing.
Encroaching.
But even though I’m not at al surprised to see it like that, I have no idea how to stop it. No idea what I’l do once I arrive. And though I tried to mental y prepare myself for just about every possibility of what I might find, I failed to prepare myself for the one I stumble upon.
I stop, my eyes wide in wonder, jaw practical y dropped to my knees when I see Jude, Ava, Romy, Rayne, and … Miles?—standing there waiting for me.
The only person who could make this reunion complete is Damen, but sadly, he’s absent.
“How did…” My voice trails off as I gape at Miles, the biggest surprise of them al .
“Wel , it took some doing, more than a few tries for sure, but between the four of us pooling our energy and Miles’s own fervent desire to see you off on your journey, in the end, we managed to pul through.”
“I hope you at least showed him around the nicer parts first.” I cringe, thinking how he must’ve felt to go through al that only to step through the beautiful, shimmering veil and into such a dark, dreary, bleak place.
“Later,” Ava says. “We were in too big of a hurry to catch you before you leave.”
“But—why?” I glance at Jude, correctly assuming he cal ed them, convinced them al to meet me here, just after I left him standing in his doorway.
“Because you deserve a proper send-off,” Romy says, nudging her sister hard in the gut until she nods in reluctant agreement.
“I—I don’t know what to say.” I swal ow hard, warning myself not to cry in front of them.
“You don’t have to say anything.” Miles grins. “You know I’m more than able to handle the talking for al of us.”
“True.” I laugh, stil getting used to seeing him here.
“Oh, and we brought gifts.” Ava nods excitedly.
I try to look pleased, though the truth is I have no idea what I’l do with them, or if I’l even be able to bring them where I’m going—
wherever that is. The thought extinguished the moment Rayne steps forward, motions for me to lower my head, and drapes a smal silver talisman dangling from a tan leather cord around my neck.
I grasp the pendant between my forefinger and thumb, lifting it to where I can better see it, unsure how I’m supposed to interpret the message behind it, especial y considering it came straight from her.
“An Ouroboros?” I gape, my voice sharp, my brow raised in question.
“It’s from Romy and me,” she says, eyes wide and serious. “It’s for protection. Damen was right. It’s not at al evil and we’re just hoping it’l remind you of where you started, where you’l end up, and where we hope you’l find yourself again.”
“And where’s that?” I ask, my eyes never once straying from hers.
“Back here. With al of us,” she says, her voice ful of sincerity. Her dual nature, her ability to run so hot and cold, especial y where I’m concerned, is so confusing I can’t seem to get a grip on her. Reminding me of the old man I ran across that time in Summerland, the one who insisted the twins bore opposite personalities to the ones I’ve grown used to. Claiming Rayne was the quiet one and Romy the stubborn one, and I can’t help but wonder just how often they play this game.
Before I can formulate some kind of reply, Ava comes forward and hands me a smal shiny crystal ine stone made of a blue-green so bril iant it reminds me a bit of Jude’s eyes.
“It’s cavansite,” she says, studying me closely. “It enhances intuition and psychic healing. It also prompts deep reflection, inspires new ideas, helps rid oneself of faulty beliefs, and aids in inducing the memories of one’s prior lives.”
Our eyes meet and hold as she shoots me a meaningful look, and I can’t help but wish Damen were around to hear that.
I nod, slip the stone into my pocket, and turn toward Jude. Not because I’m expecting something from him, but because I can tel by the way his aura flares, the way his energy radiates, that he has something to tel me.
“I’m coming with,” he says.
I squint, unsure I heard him correctly.
“Seriously. That’s my gift. I’m making the journey with you. You shouldn’t have to go it alone. I don’t want you to go it alone.”
“But—you can’t,” I say, the words slipping out before I’ve even had a chance to stop and consider them. But for some reason, it seems like the right thing to say. If Damen can’t go, then Jude can’t either. Besides, there’s no need to involve him in this any more than I already have. “Trust me, I appreciate the sentiment. Real y, I do. But Lotus’s instructions were clear—I need to do this alone. Without you, without Damen, with no one to rely on but myself. It’s my destiny, only I can make the journey.”
“But I thought our destinies were entwined? You said so yourself.”
I pause, unsure how to reply. Glancing from the twins, to Miles, and then over to Ava and back to Jude, about to reiterate what I just said, when I sense her.
Lotus.
She’s here.
I turn, my gaze instinctively finding hers, noticing how she looks even older than the last time I saw her, more delicate, frail, somewhat feeble even. Her m
ovements slow but determined, her slim frame stooped slightly forward, her hair freed from the braid she normal y wears, left to hang loose around her shoulders in long silvery wisps. The waves floaty, springy, providing the usual halo effect—its color blending into skin so pale it makes the blue of her eyes pop like two startling chunks of aquamarine dropped into a snowy-white landscape. And unlike the other times I saw her, this time she leans heavily onto an old carved wooden walking stick. Her fingers wrapped around the curved handle, arthritic knuckles blanching and bulging. Yet her face stil lifts as she makes her approach, her rheumy old eyes taking me in as her lips curl in delight.
“Adelina.” She bows, stopping just a few feet shy of me, her gaze fixed on mine as though she’s yet to notice I have company. “You are ready? Ready to make the journey? Ready to release me?”
“Is that what I’m doing?” I study her closely, her words planting a seed of doubt that has me second-guessing my purpose al over again.
“We’ve been waiting for so long now. Only you can make the journey, only you can reveal the truth.”
“But why only me?” I ask. “Why can’t Damen come—or Jude?”
“Please,” she whispers, voice low and throaty, pressing her left palm to her heart as she bows toward me, a thin gold band she wears on her ring finger glinting in a way I can’t miss, and I wonder if she’s always worn it, and if so, why I failed to notice it until now. “You must choose to believe.”
For the first time since she arrived, I glance back toward my friends, seeing them looking upon her with such awe and reverence I can’t help but wonder if they see something I miss.
But when I turn to Lotus again, I see it as clearly as they do—the beautiful golden glow that emanates deep from within, growing and expanding until it glimmers al around her.
“You are ready then?” She looks at me, her face so luminous I just nod, unable to resist.