“So…he’s healed then?” My voice catches, cracks, hoping that’s what they meant, and instantly flooded with relief when they confirm it. “And you? Do you guys live here again?”
They look at each other, eyes meeting, faces still wearing the same somber expression, though it’s quickly replaced with shaking shoulders and great peals of laughter. The two of them falling all over each other, enjoying some kind of private joke, before Rayne can calm down enough to say, “Do you want us to live here again?” She quirks her brow and looks me over, right back to being her normal self, well, for the most part, anyway.
“I just want you to be happy,” I tell them, not wasting a single second in answering. “Wherever that takes place for you.”
Romy grins, lifting her shoulders when she says, “We’re sticking with Ava. Now that we know how to come here and visit whenever we want, well, we don’t really feel like we need to live here again. Besides, we really like school.”
“Yeah, and school likes us back.” Rayne flashes a rare and brief smile that makes her eyes dance. “I’ve been voted class president.”
I nod, not the least bit surprised by that.
“And Romy made cheerleader,” she adds, rolling her eyes.
“I think all that practicing with Riley, you know, back when she lived here and used to hang out with us, well, I think it must’ve really helped.” Romy shrugs modestly.
“Riley helped you with cheerleading?” I squint, more than a little surprised to hear that, though I’m not sure why.
Seeing Romy nod when she says, “She wanted to be just like you, you know that, right? She memorized every single cheer you ever did, and then she taught them to us.”
I press my lips together and lean against Damen, enjoying the shelter of his strong solid warmth, of his hand squeezing mine. Knowing for sure, now more than ever before, that I can have this anytime I want, anytime I need it. He will always be there for me.
Focusing on the twins again when I say, “And speaking of missing people—”
They peer first at each other, then me.
“I know someone who’d really like to see you again.”
Picturing the old British man I ran across the time I stumbled upon the cottage where they both used to live. Back when I first discovered the truth about their connection to both my sister and Ava, and telepathically sending the image to them.
“Though he seems to be more than a little confused. Somehow he’s gotten it into his head that Romy’s the stubborn one, while Rayne’s the easygoing one, but I think we all know that’s not true…”
They look from me to Damen, then burst into a whole new fit of giggles. Leaving Damen and me to just stand there, having no idea what they’re carrying on about, but quickly pushing it aside to focus on each other.
And that’s how Ava and Jude find us when they exit the Halls and make their way down the steep marble steps.
The twins giggling.
Damen and me communing—my head on his shoulder, our hands clasped tightly together.
And that’s all Jude needs to see to know that the choice has been made.
To know that it’s Damen and I who are meant to be together.
That whatever happened between us was long over before it could ever get started.
He stops, pauses right there on the very last step, allowing Ava to move past him as his gaze locks on mine. Holding it for what feels like a very long time, though no words are exchanged, no telepathic thoughts of any kind.
Though words aren’t really necessary when the message is clear.
Then he takes a deep breath, takes a moment to collect himself, before nodding his acknowledgment. Both of us knowing this is it, my decision is made, and that it won’t be up for consideration ever again.
Switching his focus to Ava and the twins, he decides to join them on their journey to revisit all their old haunts, if for no other reason than to distract himself from what he thinks he just lost.
And they’re just about to head off when I turn toward the twins and say, “Hey—how’d you guys do it? How’d you get back here?”
Seeing the way Ava beams proudly, as the twins glance first at each other, then me, with Romy choosing to take the lead. “We took the focus off ourselves and put it on someone else for a change.”
I squint, not quite understanding what they’re getting at.
“We were with Damen when he found you,” Rayne explains. “And when we saw Jude and the condition he was in, well, we knew there was only one way to save him, and that was to get him here, to Summerland.”
“Which meant that our whole focus on getting here was no longer about us, it was about him. Our only goal was to help him.” Romy smiles. “And it worked.”
“Just like Ava always told us it would,” Rayne says, gazing up at her with admiration. “It’s like she always says—” She stops and motions toward Ava. “Well, you should probably say it, since it’s your phrase and all.”
Ava laughs, taking a moment to ruffle Rayne’s hair, before she pulls her close to one side and Romy to the other, her gaze locked on mine when she says, “It all comes down to your intention. When you put all of your focus on a problem, you just get more of the problem. But if you put your focus on being of help, then your energy is directed toward the help instead of the problem. So before, when the twins were unable to return to Summerland, it was because they were too focused on themselves and their problem of getting here. But this time, their only concern was for Jude, and they got there in an instant. So basically, whenever you’re looking for a solution, you are feeling positive emotion—and whenever you’re looking at a problem, you’re feeling negative emotion, which, as you know, never gets us anywhere. But once you take the focus off yourself and your wants, and instead turn it toward how getting what you want might also benefit someone else, well then, you can’t help but succeed,” she says, voice soft and sweet. “That’s the key behind any success.”
Rayne shrugs, smiling and shaking her head. “Who would’ve thought?” she says.
Yeah, who would’ve thought? I smile, briefly catching Ava’s eye, watching as she glances between Damen and me and instinctively knowing she approves of my choice, then switching my focus to Jude, who, thanks to the wonderful healing magick of Summerland, is back to being as strong and cute and sexy as ever.
Looking as though Haven hadn’t just broken his body.
As though I hadn’t just broken his heart.
The kind of guy any girl would be lucky to get.
The kind of guy I’ve been lucky to know for as long as I have.
Then I close my eyes and manifest my very own night star, hanging it high in the Summerland sky, just over his head. Knowing that wishes don’t always come about in the way that we think, but if you believe and keep your mind open, there’s a really good chance they will manifest in some way. Because even though I didn’t realize it at the time, that’s exactly what my night star did for me.
By sending me to the Shadowland, I was able to find the answer I needed.
And before they move on, before my star can fade, I take a deep breath and make a wish for Jude.
Wishing for him to remain open and hopeful and willing to believe that there’s someone out there who’s far better suited for him than I ever could be.
Wishing for him to find the one and only person who’ll love him as equally as he will love them.
Wishing for him to find what I’ve found with Damen.
And I leave him with that wish. Leave my star shining high in the sky for as long as it lasts. Watching as they go off in one direction, while Damen and I take another, the two of us strolling hand in hand, quiet and content, as I lead him toward the pavilion.
“Are you sure?” he says, standing just outside of it, clearly conflicted about trying this again.
But I just nod and pull him inside. I’m more than sure. In fact, I can’t wait to get started.
There’s so much about that Southern life we
’ve yet to explore, and from what I saw in the Shadowland, there were definitely some really nice parts I’d love to revisit.
I hand him the remote as I stand before the screen, smiling at him as I say, “Just fast-forward to the good part, after you’ve secured my freedom and trust and you whisked me away to Europe…”
twenty-nine
By the time we get out of there I have no idea how much time has passed.
Since Summerland exists in a perpetual mode of hazy daylight where everything happens in an eternal state of now, it’s impossible to tell.
All I know for sure is that my lips are tender and swollen, and my cheeks pink and slightly abraded from the swath of stubble that lines Damen’s jaw—a condition that should disappear in just a matter of seconds.
Far quicker than Sabine’s outrage over my extended absence back home on the earth plane.
Far quicker than Haven’s triumphant glee over thinking she succeeded in killing me.
Still, even though I know I need to get home and face both of those things, I’m reluctant to leave, reluctant to give up the magick so quickly. And since Damen’s clearly reluctant too, he manifests a single white stallion for us to ride. Allowing the horse to meander of its own free will as we enjoy the passing scenery.
I rest my chin on Damen’s shoulder and wrap my arms loosely around his waist as we ride beside swiftly moving streams, down empty cobblestone lanes, through large sprawling meadows filled with chirping birds and deliciously fragrant blooms, alongside the shore of a beautiful beach made of white sand and turquoise waters, up a steep and winding trail that leads to a mountainous peak with a wondrous view, then back down its other side before wading through a barren desert’s sands.
We even ride through the streets of all our former lives, as Damen manifests replicas of Paris, New England, London, Amsterdam, and, yes, even the antebellum South. Going so far as to give me a glimpse of his early life in Florence, Italy. Pointing out the tiny home where he lived, his father’s workshop off the alleyway, the favored stalls where his mother frequently shopped.
He makes fleeting images of his parents, soulless forms that waver in and out of focus before us. Knowing I’ve seen them before, back when I spied on his life in the Great Halls of Learning but still wanting me to see them as he sees them. Eager to share every last trace of his life, of our shared lives, until there are no secrets between us—until all of it comes neatly together—until the entire story of our lives is complete.
And because I feel closer to him than ever before, because I’m completely secure in the knowledge that we’re in this together for better or worse, I decide to show him something I’d previously kept from him.
Closing my eyes and urging our mount to take us to that place—the dark side of Summerland—the side I kept hidden, kept to myself. Convinced for some reason I can’t quite explain, that now’s the right time to share it with him.
The horse immediately following my lead, instantly switching course as I press my lips to the curve of Damen’s ear and say, “There’s something I haven’t told you—something I need you to see.”
He turns, glancing over his shoulder, smile fading to concern when he takes in my serious gaze.
But I just nod and urge the horse forward, knowing we’re getting closer when his pace begins to slow and I have to urge him to keep going. Knowing by the way the air suddenly changes, the sky darkens, the mist thickens, and what was once a blooming, thriving forest of vibrant plants and flowers becomes a drooping, rain-drenched, mud-filled swamp.
Our horse stops. Swishing his tail from side to side and throwing his head back in protest, refusing to go any farther. And knowing it’s useless to force him, I slide off his back and motion for Damen to join me.
Answering the question in his gaze when I say, “I found this place a while back, the time I was in Summerland with Jude and ran into you. Strange, isn’t it?”
He squints, glancing from the mud-soaked ground to the malnourished trees. Their branches brittle, graying, devoid of all foliage, of any sign of growth or life, despite the never-ending supply of rain.
“What is it?” he asks, still taking it in.
“I don’t know.” I shrug, shaking my head. “Last time I was here, I just sort of stumbled upon it by accident. I mean, I guess it wasn’t really an accident, since there are no accidents here, but still, it wasn’t like I was looking for it or anything. I was just killing time, waiting for Jude to come out of the Great Halls of Learning. And so, just to keep busy, just to have something to do, I asked Summerland to show me the one thing I’d never seen before, the one thing I really needed to know about—and my horse brought me right here. But when I tried to venture farther and explore a little more, she totally refused, just like our horse did now. So I tried to go off on my own, but the mud was so deep I kept sinking down to my knees, and it wasn’t long before I gave up. But then, just now I thought—”
He looks at me, curiosity piqued.
“Well, it seems bigger than before. Like it’s—” I pause and gaze all around. “Like it’s growing or expanding or something.” I shake my head. “I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. What do you make of it?”
He takes a deep breath, his gaze clouding at first, as though he’s trying to protect me from something, but then it’s gone just as quickly. That’s our old way of communicating. We no longer keep secrets.
His fingers playing at his chin when he says, “Honestly? I have no idea what to make of it. I’ve never seen anything like it or at least not here anyway. But I gotta tell ya, Ever, it certainly doesn’t leave me with a very good feeling.”
I nod. Gazing at a flock of birds just off to the side, watching the way they carefully keep to the perimeter, refusing to soar anywhere near the darker bits.
“You know, Romy and Rayne once told me, not long after we met, that Summerland contained the possibility of all things, and you even said it once too.”
Damen looks at me.
“So, if that’s true, then maybe this is like—the dark side? Maybe Summerland is like the yin and the yang—you know, equal parts dark and light?”
“Hopefully not equal,” he says, a look of alarm overtaking his gaze. Sighing as he adds, “I’ve been coming here for a long time, a very long time. And I certainly thought I’d seen it all, but this—” He shakes his head. “This is entirely new. It’s nothing like the Summerland I studied or read about. It’s nothing like the Summerland I ever experienced. And if it didn’t start out this way, if this part of it is, in fact, new…well, something tells me that cannot be good.”
“Should we explore? Have a quick look around and see if we can learn anything more?”
“Ever—” He squints, clearly not nearly as curious to get started as I am. “I’m not sure that’s such a good—”
But I won’t let him finish, my mind is made up and now it’s just a matter of convincing him too. “Just a quick peek around, then we’ll go,” I say, seeing the waver in his gaze and knowing I’m close to succeeding. “But I gotta warn you, that mud runs deep, so be prepared to sink down past your knees.”
He takes a deep breath, hesitating for a moment even though we both know it’s as good as done. Finally grabbing hold of my hand as the two of us venture slowly into the muck, stealing a quick glance over our shoulders to see our horse, ears pinned back, pawing at the ground, snorting and grunting while shooting us a you’re crazy if you think I’m following you kind of look.
Pushing through the relentless driving rain, until our clothes are soaked through and our hair clings to our faces and necks. Occasionally stopping to glance at each other, eyebrows rising in question, but still we keep going, keep forging ahead.
The mud pooling up to our knees when I remember something from the last time I was here, and I look at him and say, “Close your eyes and try to manifest something. Anything. Quick! Though try to make it something useful like an umbrella or a rain hat.”
He looks at me, and I can see it i
n his gaze, and even though it’s not at all useful, it’s definitely lovely. A tulip. A single red tulip. But it just stays right there in his mind, refusing to materialize for us.
“I thought it was maybe just me.” Remembering that bleak and dreary time when I first found myself here. “I was so confused back then, I actually thought maybe this whole place existed because of me. You know, like it was a physical manifestation of my inner state—or—something.” I shrug, feeling more than a little stupid for having voiced that out loud.
Just about to take another step forward when Damen stretches his arm out before me and stops me dead in my tracks.
I follow his gaze, follow the length of his pointing finger, all the way across the muddy gray swamp. Gasping in surprise when I spot an older woman just a few feet away.
Her hair hanging in wet, white wisps that fall way past her waist and cling to a thin, gray cotton tunic that’s a perfect match for the gray cotton pants she wears tucked into tall, brown rain boots. Her lips moving incessantly, mumbling softly to herself, as she stoops forward, her fingers digging deep into the mud—as Damen and I look silently on, wondering how we could’ve possibly missed seeing her until now.
We continue to stand there, unsure what to do or even what to say should she happen to notice us too. But so far she remains oblivious, focused intently on whatever it is that she’s doing. Finally taking a break from all the digging when she reaches for a small, silver can and begins to water the already thoroughly drenched area.
But it’s not until she turns, turns to face us, that I see how old she really is. Her skin so fine, so thin and translucent, it’s practically see-through, while her hands are gnarled and bumpy, with large bulging knuckles that look painful to the touch. But it’s her eyes that tell the real story—their color resembling a faded-out, sun-bleached light denim. Appearing rheumy, filmy, clustered with cataracts, but even from this distance, there’s no mistaking the fact that they’re trained right on me.