She pushes the plate of cookies toward me, out of habit, without thinking. Shaking her head and laughing softly under her breath as she tries to yank them away, but not getting very far before I reach out and snatch one out from under the bottom. Creamy beige in color, round, bendy, and decorated with thick squares of sugar all along the top, breaking a piece off the side and placing it onto my tongue, remembering how it used to be my most favorite kind, and wishing I could enjoy sweets, any food really, in the same way I used to.
“You don’t have to eat them on my account,” she says, lifting her cup to her lips and blowing on her tea once, twice, before taking a sip. “Trust me, the twins like them plenty enough for both of us, so I won’t be offended if you’re no longer interested.”
I shrug, wanting to tell her how sometimes, when I miss being normal, I go through the motions of eating and drinking and buying things at the store instead of manifesting them, just to prove I still can. But it doesn’t usually last all that long, and lately it only comes around when it’s late and I’m tired, and more than a little lost, as I am now. Other times, I can’t imagine ever wanting to return to that brand of ordinary.
But, instead, I just look at her and say, “So how are the twins?” Breaking off another bite of cookie, remembering how it used to taste, sweet, rich, delicious, not all cardboardy bland like this and knowing it’s me that’s changed, not the recipe.
“You know, it’s funny.” She sets down her cup and leans toward me, fingers playing at her woven green placemat as though ironing it with her hands. “We’ve all settled in so well and so quickly, it’s like no time has passed. Who would’ve thought?” She gives a half smile and shakes her head at the wonder of it. “I know reincarnation is primarily about karma and unfinished business of our past, but I never dreamed it would end up quite so—literal—for me.”
“And their magick—is it coming back?”
She takes a breath, slow and deep, fingers reaching for her cup again, anchoring firmly around the handle but stopping just short of lifting it when she says, “No. Not yet. But maybe that’s not such a bad thing.” She shrugs.
I look at her, confused by what that could possibly mean.
“Well, it hasn’t seemed to work out so well for you now, has it?”
I drop my hands to my lap, clasping, twisting, pulling at my fingers, the hunched-over, nervous sight of me alone pretty much all the answer she needs.
“And while I used to practice magick too—well, obviously.” She drops her tongue out the side and raises her hand in a way meant to signify a noose, then bursting into laughter and wagging her finger at me when I gape. “Oh lighten up.” She smiles, a quick flash of teeth. “No use crying about a past I can’t change. Each step leads us to the next, and as it stands, the next step is right here.” She gives the table a flat-palmed slap. “Because of my past life experiences, because you helped me to access the Summerland, where I eventually got to the Great Halls of Learning, I’m much more able to understand the things I could only guess at before.”
“Yeah, like what?” I squint, slipping right back into my old, belligerent ways, not even giving her a chance to speak her piece without a rude interruption from me.
But Ava, true to her usual ways, chooses to ignore it, continuing on as though I didn’t even say it. “I’ve learned that magick, like manifesting, is really just the simple manipulation of energy. But where manifesting is usually reserved for manipulating matter, magick, in the wrong hands anyway—” She pauses to look at me, her gaze screaming your hands! or at least that’s how it seems to me. “Well, if not practiced correctly, without proper intent, it tends to manipulate people, and that’s where the trouble begins.”
“Wish the twins would’ve warned me of that,” I mumble, hardly believing I’m blaming them, but still, there it is.
“Maybe they failed to mention it, but I’m sure Damen didn’t?” She looks at me, clearly not buying it from the arch of her brow and tilt of her chin. “Ever, if you came here for help, which, considering the time and the circumstances, I’m assuming you did, then please allow me to do that—help. There’s no need for excuses, I’m not here to judge you in any way, shape, or form. You made a mistake, you’re not the first, and you certainly won’t be the last. And while I’m sure you feel that your particular mistake is extraordinarily big, insurmountable even, contrary to what you might think, these types of things can always be undone, and oftentimes aren’t nearly as lethal as we think—or, should I say, as we allow them to be.”
“Oh, so now I’m allowing it?” I start, the argument coming so readily, so easy, but my heart isn’t in it, and I quickly flash my palm and wave it away. Sighing as I add, “You know, for someone who needs help as often as I do, you’d think I’d be a little better at accepting it.” I roll my eyes and shake my head, the gesture directed at me, not her.
She shrugs, removing an oatmeal cookie from the stack and plopping a raisin into her mouth. “It’s never easy for the stubborn.” She smiles, her gaze meeting mine. “But I think we’re past all that now, right?” Seeing my nod of consent, and forging ahead when she adds, “The thing is, Ever, with both magick and manifesting, it’s the intent that matters most—the result that you’re focusing on. Your intention is the most important tool you have at your disposal. You’re familiar with the Law of Attraction, right?” She looks at me, running her hand over her silky sleeve. “That we attract that which we focus on? Well, it’s no different here. When you focus on what you fear—you get more of what you fear. When you focus on what you don’t want—you get more of what you don’t want. When you focus on attempting to control others—you attract more of being controlled. Your attention to them brings more of them, and more like them, into your life. Imposing your will upon others in order to persuade them to do something they’re normally unwilling to do—well, not only does it not work but it also has a way of boomeranging right back at you. Resulting in karma, as every action does, only this isn’t the kind that works in your favor, unless you’re up for learning a few very important lessons, that is . . .”
But even though she continues to talk, my mind is still stuck on that part about karma, about it boomeranging back. Remembering how the twins said something similar, something like: It’s wrong to use magick for selfish, nefarious reasons. There’s karma to pay, and it’ll come back times three.
I swallow hard and reach for my tea, her words glancing over me when she says, “Ever, you must understand that all of this time you’ve been resisting in the very worst way. Resisting against me, when I tried to help you, resisting against Damen when he grew concerned for you, resisting against Roman and the horrible things he’s done to you—” She lifts her hand, seeing how I’m about to refute that last one and silencing me with one raised finger when she says, “And the thing about resistance, the irony of it is, you end up spending so much time and energy focusing on the things you’re resisting, the things you don’t want, that you end up attracting exactly those things.”
I look at her, not sure that I follow. Am I not supposed to resist against Roman? I mean, hel-lo, look what just happened, or what almost just happened, when I almost allowed myself to give in.
She squares her shoulders, placing her hands on either side of her cup when she meets my gaze and begins again. “Everything is energy, right?”
So I’ve heard.
“So if your thoughts are energy, and energy attracts, then all of your thoughts about all of the things you fear the most—well, you’re actually making them happen. You’re manifesting them into existence simply by obsessing over them. Or, more simply put, and, as i
t happens, very apropos for you, as the alchemists said: ‘As above, so below, as within, so without.’ ”
“That’s simply put?” I shake my head and swirl my tea around and around. She may as well be speaking in tongues for all I understood.
She smiles, her eyes patient, kind. “What it means is that what’s inside us will also be found outside of us. That our inner states of consciousness, the thoughts that we focus on, will always be reflected in our outer lives. There’s no escaping it, Ever, it just is. But what you failed to realize is that the magick isn’t out there—it’s not in the hands of the goddess or the queen—it’s in here.” She thumps her fist against her chest, gazing at me as her whole face lifts. “The only reason Roman has any power over you is because you gave it to him—you handed it right over! Yes, I know he tricked you, and yes, I know how he’s keeping you from ever truly being with Damen, and yes, that must be unimaginably horrible, but if you’ll just stop resisting what already is, if you just stop focusing on Roman and the rotten things that he’s done, you’ll be able to break this awful bond you’ve built with him. And soon, after a decent amount of meditation and cleansing, he won’t be able to bother you anymore—not even close.”
“But he’ll still have the antidote—he’ll still—” I start, but it’s no use, Ava’s on a roll and she’s not finished yet.
“You’re right. He will still have the antidote, and he’ll probably be reluctant to give it to you. But that is a situation you cannot change. And your obsessing over it, and weaving all manner of spells, won’t change it either. In fact, it’ll only make it worse. By doing that, you’ve made him the focus of your universe, the exact result you didn’t want, and trust me, Roman is well aware of this. He works hard to steal your focus, it’s what every narcissist wants. So, if you truly want to resolve this and get your life back on track, then just stop. Stop focusing your energy on the things you don’t want. Stop putting your energy into Roman. Just refuse to even go there and see where that leads.” She leans toward me, tucking her wavy, auburn hair back behind her ear. “My guess is, once he sees you happily adapting to your situation, living your life and enjoying yourselves despite your limitations, he’ll grow bored of the game and give in. But like this, the way you’re handling it now, you may as well be hand-feeding prime rib to a tiger, you’re only satisfying his most primal need. The beast is inside you, Ever, because you put it there. But trust me, you can rid yourself of it just as easily.”
“How?” I shrug, understanding everything she just said, I mean, once she explained it, it all made perfect sense. And yet I can still feel that horrible, insistent pulse thrumming just under the surface, and it’s kind of hard to believe it’s just a simple matter of changing my focus. “When I tried to reverse it, it just made it worse. Then, when I appealed to Hecate for help, it seemed to work for a little while, but then, just now, when I saw Roman again—” The color rises to my cheeks as my whole body heats, horrified to remember what almost became of me. “Well, let’s just say I discovered it hadn’t gone anywhere, it was alive and kicking and ready to party. And while I get what you’re saying, at least I think I do, I can’t see how simply changing my thoughts is ever going to help. I mean, Hecate’s in charge, not me, and I’ve no idea how to get her to step down.”
But Ava just looks at me, her voice lowered when she says, “But that’s where you’re wrong. Hecate’s not in charge, you are. You’ve been in charge all along. And though I hate to say it, because I know how uncomfortable it always makes people to hear it, the monster isn’t some foreign being that’s found its way in you, it isn’t a demonic possession or anything like that—it’s you. The monster is the dark side of you.”