by Alyson Noel
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 in 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.
Her fingers loosen, dropping the watering can to her feet, not seeming to care when it’s quickly swallowed whole by the mud. Her arm slowly lifting, finger shaky but still pointing right in my direction, when she says, “You.”
Damen instinctively moves to cover me, to block me from view.
But it’s no use. Her gaze remains firm, unwavering, as she continues to point, continues to repeat to herself, again and again:
“You. It’s really you. We’ve been waiting for you for so long now…”
Damen nudges me, whispering between clenched teeth. “Ever, don’t listen to her, just close your eyes and picture the portal—now!”
But even though we try, it doesn’t work. Th
ere’s no quick escape. No magick or manifesting to be had in these parts.
He pushes into my shoulder, grabbing hold of my hand as he urges me to run, turning on his heel and sloshing through the mud, doing his best to pull me along. The two of us stumbling, falling, taking turns picking each other up, as we continue to move forward. Doing whatever it takes to get back to our horse, to get out of here.
To gain some distance from the voice that continues to chase us.
Taunt us.
Repeating the same phrase over and over again:
From the mud it shall rise
Lifting upward toward vast dreamy skies
Just as you-you-you shall rise too…
thirty
The moment we walk through the gate, we start searching for Haven. But she sees us first.
I can tell by the way she stops—stops talking, stops moving, practically stops blinking and breathing—and settles for gaping instead.
She thought I was dead.
She left Jude for dead.
But apparently that didn’t turn out quite as she’d planned.
I nod in acknowledgment, taking a moment to push my hair over my shoulder to provide a clear view of my neck—still free of the amulet, just like she left it. Wanting her to know that I’m no longer vulnerable. No longer ruled by a weak spot. No longer endangered by a lack of discernment, trusting all the wrong people or misusing knowledge.
I’ve totally and completely risen above it.
Leaving her no choice but to deal with me now that she can’t do away with me.
And when I’m sure she’s had enough time to process all that, I lift the hand that’s clasped with Damen’s, raising it high enough for her to see. Wanting her to know we’re still together, that we weathered the storm, that she cannot defeat us, nothing can, so it’s best not to try.
And even though she quickly turns away, turns back to her friends and tries to carry on as though everything’s normal, we both know it’s not. I’ve put a major dent in her plans, and if she doesn’t get the full extent of it yet, she soon will.
We move past her, through the quad, and all the way over to the bench where Stacia sits by herself with a hoodie pulled over her head, earbuds shoved in her ears, and a pair of oversized designer sunglasses shielding her face in an attempt to deflect and ignore the stream of insults coming from just about every single student that passes, while she waits for Damen to show up and defend her from them.
I stop, struck by the way she looks just like me, or at least the old me, wondering if she sees it too, if she’s managed to tune in to the irony of it.
Damen squeezes my hand, his gaze questioning, having misread my hesitation as an unwillingness to go through with it, even though we’ve been over it a million times already.
“I can handle it.” I nod, glancing at him as I add, “Seriously. No worries. I know exactly what to say.”
He smiles and leans in to kiss me, his lips soft, sweet, as they brush across my cheek. A quick and easy reminder that he loves me—that he’s with me, always will be. But while it’s definitely nice, and while I definitely appreciate it, I no longer question those things.
Stacia gazes up from her iPod, wincing the second she sees me. And I can’t help but notice the way her mouth goes grim, the way she involuntarily hunches her shoulders and pulls them way in when I claim the space just beside her.
Having no idea what I could possibly want, but clearly convinced that whatever it is, it cannot be good, she pushes her glasses onto her forehead and shoots Damen a quick, help me kind of look, but he just claims the space right beside me, as I shake my head and say, “Don’t look at him, look at me.” My gaze holds on hers. “Believe it or not, I’m the one who’s going to get you out of this mess. I’m the one who’s going to put everything back the way it was. Or at least, almost the way it was.”
Her eyes dart between us as her fingers pick at the rolled hem of her dress. Unsure if I’m actually being sincere or if she’s being played in some sort of payback plan that I’ve made.
Just about to get up and leave, take her chances with the hostile masses, when I stop her by saying, “But, as I’m sure you’ve already guessed, there is one condition.”
She looks at me, gaze wary, assuming the absolute worst.
“The condition being that when I return you to table A, you use your popularity for good and not evil.”
She shakes her head, then bursts into a nervous laugh that ends almost as quickly as it begins. Unable to determine whether I’m joking or serious, and again looking to Damen for the answer, but the only answer he gives is a casual shrug as he motions toward me.
“I’m not joking. I’m one hundred percent serious. In case you haven’t noticed, in case you’ve already forgotten, you’ve been nothing but a complete and total bitch to me from the very first day I arrived at this school. You took way too much pleasure in making my life a living hell. And I’m willing to bet you spent more time plotting against me than you did studying for your SATs.”
She gazes down at her knees, cringing at my list of accusations and flushing under my scrutiny, though wisely choosing not to speak. I’m far from through with her yet, and there’s plenty more where that came from.
“Not to mention how you tried to steal my boyfriend right out from under me—on more than one occasion.” My eyes narrow on her, devoid of all mercy. “But let’s not pretend I was the only one you tortured, because I think we both know that’s hardly the case. Pretty much anyone you perceived as either weaker than you or somehow beneath you or, heck, even some kind of threat to you, was a target as far as you were concerned. You even went after your supposed best friend.” She looks at me, nose scrunched, eyes squinty, prompting me to say, “Um, hel-lo, Honor?” I shake my head, wondering if I’m not just wasting my time, if it’s actually possible to get through to someone as vain and selfish and emotionally clueless as her. “Why do you think she turned against you? You think it’s all Haven’s fault? Think again. She’s been planning this for some time now, mostly because you treated her like crap—the same way you treat everyone. But also because you even tried to steal her boyfriend, and from what I heard, that was the last and final straw.”
She swallows hard, combing her fingers through her hair, rearranging it in a way that partially covers her face. Completely unwilling to look at me and reluctant for me to see her, but at least she’s not trying to deny what we both know is true.
“But I also hear you were as successful with that as you were when you tried to steal Damen.” I narrow my gaze and shake my head, though I leave it at that, figuring I’ve gloated enough as it is.
“And despite the fact that your behavior is so completely cruel and calculating and totally uncalled for, I’m still gonna help you get your old position back.”
She searches my face, trying to determine if it really is true, then quickly returning to the intense study of her spray-tanned knees as soon as I confirm it.
“And it’s not because I like you—because I really, truly don’t—and it’s not because I think you deserve it—because I definitely know you don’t—it’s because what Haven is doing, believe it or not, is even worse than what you used to do. And since I have no interest in being the queen bee of the school, I’ve decided to return the position to you. But, like I said, it comes with conditions. The main one being that starting right now, from this moment on, you’re gonna have to find another way to build yourself up. You’re gonna have to stop tearing everyone down in order to make yourself feel bigger and better because that’s pretty much the lowest, cheapest thing a person can ever do. And if this experience of yours, this reversal of your social fortune, hasn’t taught you that, then I don’t know what will. I mean, now that you’ve experienced what it’s like to be on the other side, now that you know firsthand how it feels to be ostracized and treated as badly as you used to treat everyone else, I can’t imagine you’d really want to make anyone go through that again. But then, maybe you do.
There’s really no saying with you.”
She continues to sit there, shoulders hunched, hair hanging in a curtain between us. Her head bobbing as she taps the toes of her expensive designer sandals together, the only clue that she’s listening, taking me seriously, and that’s all I need to continue.
“Because the thing is, you’re smart and pretty, and you have all the advantages anyone could ever want in this world, and honestly, that alone should be enough to empower you. So maybe, just maybe, instead of acting like such a greedy little brat and trying to steal everything you know you can’t have, you can concentrate on finding a way to use your gifts to be a good influence on others. You may think it’s corny, you may think I’m ridiculous, but I’m totally serious. If you want to go back to being the rock star of this school, then that’s exactly what you’re going to do. Otherwise, I have no interest in helping you. For all I care, you can spend the rest of the year like this, and neither Damen nor I will lift a finger to help you.”
She takes a deep breath, then glances between us, sighing and shaking her head, directing her words mostly at Damen when she says, “Is she serious? Is this for real?”
But Damen just nods, slides his arm around me, and pulls me even closer. “It is. So you should probably listen to her and take notes if you need to.”
She sighs, taking a moment to gaze around a school she used to rule and now fears. And even though it’s clear she’s far from converted, that she’s only gone along this far because she’s hit rock bottom and has nothing left to lose, nowhere else to go but down even further, it’s still a start.
Still good enough for me.
So I give her another moment to let it really sink in, waiting for her to turn to me and nod her agreement, when I say, “Okay, so here’s where you start…”
If I’d had my way, she would’ve started right then and there. And Damen and I would’ve watched as she walked right up to Honor and put the plan in motion.