I refuse to react to the faint trace of mocking in his tone when I say, “A year ago, a place like Summerland wouldn’t have seemed remotely possible. Neither would psychics, ghosts, chakras, auras, magick, time travel, reincarnation, near-death experiences, mediums, instant manifestation, the power of crystals, or magical elixirs that provide immortality.” I lift my shoulders. “So who’s to say this tree doesn’t exist too? And imagine that it does, Damen. Do you have any idea what this journey could mean?” My eyes pore over him, willing him to at least meet me halfway. “If it’s successful, it could clear your karmic debts. It could allow you to make amends for your past. Begin anew. Wipe the slate clean and all that. Maybe you never forced anyone to drink, well, anyone except me…” I pause, press my lips into a thin, grim line, then shaking my head, I add, “Maybe you were far too young and naive and inexperienced to fully understand the far-reaching consequences of what you’d done, the danger you put us all in, heck, the existence of the Shadowland alone, which I know you didn’t even know about until you were sent there, but still, anyway, my point is, while you might not have willingly set out to doom a whole host of souls to that horrible abyss—in the end, that’s exactly where this leads. And if nothing else, this is your one chance to fix it. Your one chance to present a choice to those you’ve either changed, or who were changed because of the elixir you made. It’s an opportunity that may never come again.”

“I never meant to hurt you,” he says, voice barely a whisper. “Never meant to hurt anyone.” I catch the unmistakable flash of pain and self-recrimination in his eyes before he looks away. “I never anticipated that you would blame me like this—or that you’d view spending an eternity together as a curse. Or ‘doomed to a horrible abyss’ as I believe you put it.”

“I was talking about the Shadowland, Damen, not our future together.”

“But we’re not in the Shadowland. Our future is now. Right now. We still have the recipe for the antidote—it’s not too late. All we have to do is head out of here, back to the earth plane, and gather the ingredients. But you’d rather run off on some crazy wild-goose chase in the hopes of reversing this terrible curse that I’ve put upon you.”

“Damen—I didn’t mean—”

He holds up a hand, his face as broken as his voice when he says, “It’s fine. Really. Believe me, Ever, you haven’t said anything I haven’t thought of myself a million times before. It’s just hearing it from your lips… well, it was harder than I ever expected. So, if it’s okay with you, I think I’ll head back to the earth plane—I need some time to think. And, while I’m at it, I’ll gather those ingredients for the antidote. After all, if you’re going to be stuck with me for the rest of eternity, at least the antidote will allow for certain… enjoyments that will make your life infinitely more bearable.”

Chapter twenty-eight

I watch him leave, my thoughts racing through a maze of conflicted feelings. Part of me wanting to crash through the fading corner of that shimmering veil before it’s too late—so I can return to the earth plane right alongside him.

But the other part, the bigger part, is determined to get on with the journey.

A journey that is long overdue.

Encouraged by the memory of something Riley said when I’d made a futile attempt to go back in time, only to return to my most current life. It was just before the accident that claimed me again, when she leaned across her seat, looked at me, and said: Did you ever stop and think that maybe you were supposed to survive? That maybe, it wasn’t just Damen who saved you?

And though I had no idea what it meant at the time—now I do.

This is what I came back for.

This journey is my one, and perhaps only chance to seize my destiny.

Which means I can’t allow Damen’s fears to dissuade me from what I’m meant to do.

Though I do understand his decision—his refusal to search for the tree. He blames himself for giving me the elixir, for altering the course of my life—the journey of my soul—and now I insist on finding the tree so I can reverse those effects, return us to the way we were always meant to be.

Trouble is, if there’s no tree, there’s no reversal.

Just Damen, me, and his deepest regrets—for the rest of eternity.

But I know something he doesn’t. There is a tree. I know it in the deepest part of me.

And as soon as I find it, Damen will be freed of his burdensome guilt and self-blame. Guilt that’s not even warranted since everything he’s done, every choice that he’s made, was with the best of intentions. He may have acted out of fear, but the motivation behind it was love.

But since I can’t exactly tell him that—I’ll have to show him instead.

And so, newly dedicated to what I know in my heart I must do, I steal a moment to manifest a few things I might need before I get too far along and possibly end up in a place where magick no longer works. Manifesting stuff like a flashlight, a sleeping bag, water and food, a light jacket, sturdier shoes, a backpack—then once I have that secured, I busy myself by making a mental list of all that I’ve learned about the tree so far. Things I’ve learned from Damen, Lotus, and the few things I’ve picked up from movies and books and working in Jude’s store, repeating this list to myself as I head down the trail.

It’s mystical—true.