I nod, swallowing hard, hoping she means it. And even though we could spend the next several hours manifesting everything our hearts desire, the truth is, my heart desires only one thing. Besides, after witnessing Ava's reunion with her beloved pet, the pleasure of material goods no longer seems worth it. "So this is Summerland," she says, gazing all around. "This is it." I nod. "But all I've ever seen of it is this field, that stream, and a few other things that didn't exist until I manifested them here. Oh, and see that bridge? Way over there, off in the distance, where the fog settles in?"
She turns, nodding when she sees it. "Don't go near it. It leads to the other side. That's the bridge Riley told you about, the one I finally convinced her to cross —after a little coaxing from you."
Ava stares at it, her eyes narrowed as she says, "I wonder what happens if you try to go across? You know, without dying, without that kind of invite?" But I just shrug, not having nearly enough curiosity to ever try and find out. "I wouldn't recommend it," I say, seeing the look in her eyes and realizing she's actually weighing her options, wondering if she should try to cross it, out of sheer curiosity if nothing else. "You might not come back," I add, trying to relay the potential seriousness since she doesn't seem to get it. But I guess Summerland has that effect —it's so beautiful and magical it tempts you to take chances you normally wouldn't.
She looks at me, still not fully convinced but too eager to see more than to just sit around here. So she links her arm through mine, and says, "Where do we begin?"
Since neither of us has any idea just where to begin —we begin by walking. Heading through the meadow of dancing flowers, making our way through the forest of pulsating trees, crossing the rainbow-colored stream filled with all manner of fish, until finding a trail that, after curving and winding and meandering forever, leads us to a long empty road. But not a yellow brick road or one paved with gold. This is just a regular street, made of everyday asphalt, like the kind you see at home.
Though I have to admit that it's better than the streets at home because this one is clean and pristine, with no potholes or skid marks. In fact, everything around here appears so shiny and new you'd think it'd never been used, when the truth is —or at least the truth according to Ava—Summerland is older than time. "So what exactly do you know about these temples, or Great Halls of Learning as you call them?" I ask, gazing up at an impressive white marble building with all sorts of angels and mythical creatures carved into its columns and wondering if it could be the place that we seek. I mean, it looks fancy yet serious, impressive but not exactly formidable, everything I imagine a hall of higher learning to be. But Ava just shrugs as though she's no longer interested. Which is a tad more noncommittal than I'd like.
She was so sure the answer lay here, was so insistent on binding our energy and traveling together, but now that we've made it, she's a little too enamored with the power of instant manifestation to concentrate on anything else.
"I just know they exist," she says, her hands held out before her, turning them this way and that. "I've come across their mention many times in my studies."
And yet, all you seem to be studying now are those large Jewel-encrusted rings you've manifested onto your fingers! I think, not stating the actual words but knowing that if she's interested enough to look, she'll see the annoyance stamped on my face.
But she just smiles as she manifests an armful of bangles to match her new rings. And when she starts gazing down at her feet, in pursuit of new shoes, I know it's time to rein her back in.
"So what should we do when we get there?" I ask, determined to get her to focus on the true reason we're here. I mean, I did my part, so the least she could do is reciprocate and help me find the way. "And what do we research once we find it? Sudden headaches? Extreme bouts of uncontrollable sweatiness? Not to mention, will they even let us in?" I turn, fully expecting a lecture on my persistent negativity, my rampant pessimism that vanishes for a while but never fully subsides —only to find that she's no longer there.
And I mean, she's completely, unmistakably, one hundred percent not present!
"Ava!" I call, turning around and around, squinting into the shimmering mist, the eternal radiance that emanates from nowhere specific but manages to permeate everything here. "Ava, where are you?" I shout, running down the middle of the long, empty road, stopping to peer into windows and doorways, and wondering why there are so many stores and restaurants and art galleries and salons when there's no one around to use them. "You won't find her."
I turn, seeing a petite dark-haired girl standing behind me. Her stick-straight hair hanging to her shoulders, and her nearly black eyes framed by bangs so severe they seem slashed with a razor.
"People get lost here. Happens all the time."
"Who —who are you?" I say, taking in her starched white blouse, plaid skirt, blue blazer, and kneesocks, the outfit of your typical private school girl, but knowing this is no ordinary student —not if she's here.
"I'm Romy," she says. Except that her lips didn't move. And the voice that I heard came from behind me.
And when I spin around, I find the same exact girl laughing as she says, "And she's Rayne."
I turn again, seeing Rayne still behind me as Romy comes around to join her. Two identical girls standing before me, everything about them —their hair, their clothes, their faces, their eyes —exactly the same.
Except for the kneesocks. Romy's have fallen, while Rayne's are pulled tight.
"Welcome to Summerland." Romy smiles, as Rayne looks me over with suspicious narrowed eyes. "We're sorry about your friend." She nudges her twin, and when she doesn't respond, she says, "Yes, even Rayne is sorry. She just won't admit it."
"Do you know where I can find her?" I ask, gazing between them and wondering where they could've come from.
Romy shrugs. "She doesn't want to be found. So we found you instead."
"What're you talking about? And where did you even come from?" I ask, never having seen another person on my previous visits here.
"That's only because you didn't want to see another person," Romy says, answering the thought in my head. "You didn't desire it until now."
I look at her, my face blank, my mind spinning with the realization —she can read my thoughts?
"Thoughts are energy." She shrugs. "And Summerland consists of rapid, intense, magnified energy. So intense you can read it."
And the moment she says it, I remember my visit with Damen, and how we were able to communicate telepathically. But at the time, I thought it was just us.
"But if that's true, then why wasn't I able to read Ava's mind? And how was she able to just disappear like that?"
Rayne rolls her eyes, while Romy leans forward, her voice soft and low as though speaking to a small child even though they appear younger than I. "Because you have to desire it in order for it to be." Then, seeing the blank look on my face, she explains, "Within Summerland exists the possibility for everything. For all things. But you must first desire it to bring it into existence. Otherwise it remains only a possibility —one of many possibilities—unmanifested and incomplete."
I gaze at her, trying to make sense of her words. "The reason you didn't see people before is because you didn't want to. But now, look around and tell me what you see."