by Alyson Noel
“Then, at the moment of my death, instead of coming here, to Summerland—” His voice cracks but he forces himself to continue. “I—I went to a place the exact opposite of this. A place so dark and cold it’s more like a Shadowland. Experiencing the same thing you just did. Solitary, suspended, alone—left to stay that way for all of eternity.” He looks at me, willing me to understand. “It was exactly like you felt. It was as though I was isolated, soulless—with no connection to anything or anyone else.”
I stare into his eyes, an ominous chill blanketing my skin, never having seen him so tired, so jaded, so—regretful—before.
“And now I understand the very thing that’s escaped me all these years—”
I pull my knees to my chest, shielding myself from whatever comes next.
“Only our physical bodies are immortal. Our souls are most certainly not.”
I avert my gaze, unable to look at him, unable to breathe.
“This is the future you’re facing. The one I’ve granted you, if, God forbid, anything should happen, that is.”
My fingers instinctively fly to my throat, remembering what Roman said about my compromised chakra, my lack of discernment and weakness, wondering if there’s some way to guard it. “But—how can you be sure?” I look at him as though caught in a dream, some horrible nightmare with no way to escape. “I mean, there’s a good chance you’re wrong since it happened so fast. So maybe that was just a temporary state. You know, like I brought you back to life so fast you didn’t have time to make the trip here.”
He shakes his head, his gaze meeting mine when he says, “Tell me, Ever, what did you see when you died? How did you spend those few moments between the time when your soul left your body and I returned you to life?”
I swallow hard and look away, gazing at the trees, the flowers, the colorful stream flowing nearby—remembering that day I found myself in this very same field. So taken by its heady fragrance, its shimmering mist, the all-encompassing feel of unconditional love, I was tempted to linger forever, never wanting to leave.
“The reason you didn’t see the abyss is because you were still mortal. You’d died a mortal’s death. But the moment I had you drink from the elixir, granting you infinite life, everything changed. Instead of an eternity in Summerland or the place beyond the bridge—the Shadowland became your fate.”
He shakes his head and looks away, so deeply mired in his private world of regret I’m afraid I’ll never reach him again. But just as quickly his eyes meet mine when he says, “We can live an eternity in the earth plane, you and I together. But if something should happen, if one of us should die—” He shakes his head. “The abyss is where we’ll go, and we’ll never see each other again.”
I start to speak, desperate to refute it, tell him he’s wrong, but I can’t. It’s no use. All I have to do is look in his eyes to see the real truth.
“And as much as I believe in the powerful healing magick of this place—just look at the way it healed my memory—” He shrugs and shakes his head. “I can’t afford to give in, no matter how safe my desire for you may seem. It’s too risky. And we’ve no proof it’ll be any different here than on the earth plane. It’s a gamble I can’t afford to take. Not when I need to do everything I can to keep you safe.”
“Keep me safe?” I gape. “You’re the one who needs saving! It’s my fault all this happened in the first place! If I hadn’t—”
“Ever, please,” he says, voice stern, willing me to listen. “You’re in no way to blame. When I think about the way I’ve lived—the things I’ve done—” He shakes his head. “I deserve nothing better. And if there was any question that my karma was to blame, well, I think it ends here. I’ve spent the better part of six hundred years devoting myself to physical pleasure and neglecting my soul—and this is the result—the wake-up call, and unfortunately, I’ve dragged you along. So make no mistake, my concern is for you and you only. You’re my only priority. My life is only important in that I stay well long enough to protect you from Roman and whoever else he might hurt. And that means we can never be together. Never. It’s a risk we can’t take.”
I turn toward the stream, a thousand thoughts storming my brain. And even though I heard everything he just said, even though I experienced the abyss for myself, I still wouldn’t change what I am.
“And the other orphans?” I whisper, remembering how I counted six, including Roman. “What happened to them? Do you know if they turned evil like Roman and Drina?”
Damen shrugs, rising from the bench and pacing before me. “I always assumed they were too old and feeble by now to ever pose a real threat. That’s what happens after the first one hundred and fifty years—you age. And the only way to reverse the process is to drink the elixir again. My guess is that Drina stockpiled it while we were married and slipped it to Roman who eventually learned how to make his own and then passed it to the others.” He shakes his head.
“So that’s where Drina is now,” I whisper, overcome with remorse when I realize the truth. No matter how evil she was, she didn’t deserve that. Nobody does. “I sent her to the Shadowland—and now she’s—” I shake my head, unable to finish.
“It wasn’t you who did it, it was me.” He fills the space beside me, sitting so close there’s only a sliver of energy pulsating between us. “The moment I made her an immortal, I sealed her fate. Just like I did yours.”
I swallow hard, comforted by his warmth along with his wanting to assure me that I’m truly not responsible for sending my number-one enemy through all of my lives straight into that hell.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, gaze full of regret. “I’m sorry I involved you in any of this. I should’ve left you alone—should’ve walked a long time ago. You would’ve been so much better off if you’d never met me—”
I shake my head, unwilling to even visit that place, it’s far too late for looking back or second-guessing. “But if we’re destined to be together—then maybe this is our fate.” Knowing he remains unconvinced the second I read his expression.
“Or maybe I’ve forced something that was never meant to be.” He frowns. “Did you ever think of that?”
I look away, taking in the surrounding beauty, knowing words alone can never change any of this. Only action can help. And lucky for us, I know just where to start.
I stand, pulling him up alongside me as I say, “Come on. We don’t need Roman—don’t need anyone—I know just the place!”
eight
We head for the Great Halls of Learning. Stopping just shy of its steep marble steps as I peer at him, wondering (hoping!) he can see what I see—the ever-changing façade that’s required for entry.
“So you really did find it,” he says, voice tinged with awe as we watch the revolving collection of the most sacred and beautiful places on Earth. The Taj Mahal morphing into the Parthenon, which turns into the Lotus temple, which becomes the Great Pyramids of Giza, and so on. Our mutual acknowledgment of its beauty and wonder allowing us into the grand marble hall lined with elaborately carved columns straight out of ancient Greek times.
Damen gazes around, face a mask of absolute wonder as he takes it all in. “I haven’t been here since—”
I peer at him, holding my breath, dying to know the details of the last time he was here.
“Since I came to find you.”
I squint, unsure what that means.
“Sometimes—” He looks at me. “I was lucky enough to just happen upon you, ending up in the same place at just the right time. Though more often than not I’d have to wait a few years before it was proper to meet.”
“You mean you were spying on me?” I gape, hoping it wasn’t nearly as creepy as it sounds. “When I was a kid?”
He cringes, averting his gaze when he says, “No, not spying, Ever. Please. What do you take me for?” He laughs and shakes his head. “It was more like—keeping tabs. Patiently waiting until the time was right. But the last few times when I was unable to find
you, no matter how hard I tried—and believe me, I tried, living like a nomad, wandering from place to place, sure I’d lost you forever—I decided to come here. And I ran into some friends who showed me the way.”
“Romy and Rayne.” I nod, neither hearing nor seeing the answer in his head, but somehow sensing it’s true. Overcome by an immediate rush of guilt for failing to even think of them until now. Not even wondering how they might be, where they might be, until a second ago.
“You know them?” He squints, clearly surprised.
I press my lips together, knowing I’ll have to tell him the rest of the story, the parts I’d hoped to omit.
“They led me here too—” I pause, taking a deep breath and looking away, preferring to take in the room than meet his quizzical gaze. “They were at Ava’s—or at least Rayne was. Romy was out—” I shake my head and start again. “She was out trying to help you when you—”
I close my eyes and sigh, deciding to just show him instead. Everything. All of it. Including the parts I was too ashamed to put into words. Projecting the events of that day until there are no more secrets between us. Letting him know how hard they fought to save him, while I was too stubborn, refusing to listen.
But instead of being upset like I feared, he places his hands on my shoulders, gazing at me with forgiveness as he thinks, What’s done is done. We have to move forward, there’s no looking back.
I swallow hard and meet his gaze, knowing he’s right. It’s time to get started, but where to begin?
“It’s better if we split up.” He nods, his words a surprise to my ears, and I’m just about to speak when he adds, “Ever, think about it. You’re trying to find something to reverse the effects of the elixir I drank, while I’m trying to save you from the Shadowland, not exactly the same thing.”
I sigh, disappointed but having to agree. “I guess I’ll see you back at the house then. My house, if that’s okay?” I place my hand over his and give it a squeeze, reluctant to revisit his depressingly barren room and unsure where he stands on the whole karma curse thing now that his memory’s returned.
And no sooner has he nodded and closed his eyes than he’s vanished from sight.
So I take a deep breath and close my eyes too, thinking:
I need help. I’ve made a huge and horrible mistake and I don’t know what to do. I need to either find an antidote to the antidote—something that’ll reverse the effects of what Roman’s done—or find a way to get to him, convince him to cooperate with me—but only in a way that won’t require me to—um—seriously compromise myself in a way I’m not comfortable with . . . if you know what I mean . . .
Focusing my intention, replaying the words again and again. Hoping it’ll grant access to the akashic records, the permanent record of everything that has, is, or ever will be done. Praying I won’t be shut out again like the last time I was here.
But this time, when I hear that familiar buzz, instead of the usual long hallway leading to a mysterious room, I find myself right smack in the middle of a cineplex, its lobby empty, snack bar abandoned, with no clue of what I should do until a set of double doors opens before me.
I step inside a dark theater with sticky floors, worn seats, and the scent of buttery popcorn permeating the air. Squeezing down the aisle and choosing the best seat in the house, the one halfway down and dead center, I prop my feet on the chair just before me as the lights go dim and a big tub of popcorn appears in my lap. Watching the red drapes retract as the large crystal screen begins to flicker and flare in a profusion of images that quickly race past.
But instead of the solution I’d hoped for, all I get is a series of clips from movies I’ve already seen. Resulting in a sort of homemade montage of my family’s funniest moments, lifted straight from my old life in Oregon and unfolding to a soundtrack that only Riley could make.
Watching a clip of Riley and me, both of us hamming it up on a homemade stage in our den, dancing and lip-synching for an audience consisting of our parents and dog. Soon followed by an image of Buttercup, our sweet yellow lab. Tongue straining toward her nose, licking like mad, trying to get to the chunk of peanut butter Riley had dabbed there.
And even though it’s not at all what I’d hoped for, I know it’s important all the same. Riley promised she’d find a way to communicate with me, assuring me that just because I can’t see her anymore doesn’t mean she’s not still around.
So I push my quest aside, and sink down in my seat. Knowing she’s sitting beside me, silent and unseen. Wanting to share this moment together, two sisters sharing the home-movie version of what used to be.
nine
By the time I make it back to my room, Damen is waiting, sitting on the edge of my bed, cradling a small satin pouch in the palm of his gloved hand.
“How long was I gone?” I ask, plopping down beside him as I squint at my bedside clock and figure the math.
“There’s no time in Summerland,” he reminds me. “But on the earth plane, I’d say you were gone for a while. Did you learn anything?”
I think about the home movies I watched, Riley’s version of “The Bloom Family’s Funniest Videos,” then I shake my head and shrug. “Nothing useful. You?”
He smiles, handing over the silk pouch as he says, “Open and see.”
I pull on the drawstring, slip a finger inside, and retrieve a black silk cord bearing a cluster of colorful crystals held together by thin gold bands. Watching it catch and reflect the light as I dangle it before me, thinking it’s beautiful if not a bit odd.
“It’s an amulet,” he says, watching me carefully as I take in the individual stones, each of them bearing a different shape, size, and color. “They’ve been worn through the ages and are said to hold magical properties for healing, protection, prosperity, and balance. Though this particular one, being created solely for you, is heavy on the protection element since that’s what you need.”
I look at him, wondering how this could possibly help. Then I remember the crystals I used to make the antidote that saved him, and how it really could’ve worked—if Roman hadn’t tricked me into adding my blood to the mix.
“It’s completely unique, assembled and crafted with your own personal journey in mind. There’s not another one like it, not anywhere. I know it doesn’t solve our problem, but at least it’ll help.”
I squint at the bundle of rocks, unsure what to say. Just about to slip it over my head and give it a go, when he smiles and says, “Allow me.” Gathering my long hair and draping it over my shoulder as he reaches behind me and secures the small golden clasp, before tucking it under my tee where no one can see.
“Is it a secret?” I ask, expecting the crystals to feel cold and hard against my skin and surprised to find them quite warm and conforting instead.
He brushes my hair back over my shoulder, letting it fall just shy of my waist. “No, it’s not a secret. Though you probably shouldn’t flaunt it either. I have no idea just how far Roman’s advanced, so it’s better not to draw his attention to it.”
“He knows about the chakras,” I say, seeing the surprise in his gaze and choosing to omit the fact that he’s actually responsible for that. Having unwittingly revealed all kinds of secrets while under Roman’s spell. He feels badly enough already, so there’s no reason to make it any worse.
I tap my fingers against the amulet beneath my shirt, surprised by how solid it feels from the outside, compared to the inside, the part that rests on my skin. “But what about you? Don’t you need protection too?” Watching as he unearths a similar amulet from under his long-sleeved tee, smiling as he dangles it before me. “How come yours looks so different?” I ask, squinting at the cluster of sparkling stones.
“I told you, no two are alike. Just like no two people are alike. I’ve got my own issues to overcome.”
“You have issues?” I laugh, though seriously wondering what they could possibly be. He’s good at everything he does. And I mean every single thing.
He s
hakes his head and laughs, a wonderful sound I don’t get to hear nearly enough anymore. “Believe me, I’ve got my share,” he says, laughing again.
“And you’re sure these will keep us safe?” I press it against my chest, noticing how it feels like a part of me now.
“That’s the plan.” He shrugs, getting up from the bed and heading for the door as he adds, “But, Ever, please do us both a favor and try not to put it to the test, okay?”
“What about Roman?” I ask, taking in his long, lean form as he rests against the jamb. “Don’t you think we should come up with some kind of plan? Find a way to get him to give us what we need and be done with all this?”
Damen looks at me, gaze narrowed on mine. “There’s no plan, Ever. Engaging with Roman is exactly what he wants. We’re better off finding a solution on our own, without relying on him.”
“But how? Everything we’ve tried so far has been a total bust.” I shake my head. “And why should we run ourselves ragged, searching for answers, when Roman’s already admitted to having the antidote? He said all I have to do is pay the right price and he’ll hand it over—how hard can that be?”
“And you’re willing to pay his price?” Damen asks, voice steady and deep as his dark eyes sweep mine.
I avert my gaze, cheeks heating to a thousand degrees. “Of course not! Or at least not the price that you think!” I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. “It’s just—” I shake my head, frustrated at having to plead my case. “It’s just that—”