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“I mean, Jago’s cute, right?” She casts a glance to the other side of the room, where he’s talking with Hawke. “Oh, who am I kidding? He’s hot as hell.” She laughs. “And don’t get me started on that accent.” She adopts a swooning pose and makes a dramatic fanning motion with her hand. “But honestly, he’s so much more than that. He’s super smart, too. Which is good because it keeps me in check. There’s no getting anything over on him.”

I study her. “Sounds like a love match.”

Elodie smirks. “Let’s just say, it’s good for right here and right now. If anything, my heart belongs to the nineteenth century.”

“To the nineteenth century or to Nash?” I ask, curious as to just how serious she is about him.

Elodie hesitates as though weighing just how forthright she can be. Then, with a slight lifting of her shoulders, she says, “Honestly, I’m not sure I believe in one love, or one true love, or twin flames, or whatever. I’m mostly convinced those fluttery feelings are nothing more than amped-up hormones and lust. I mean, Jago’s fun, and Nash is, too. I just don’t see why I should have to choose when I can have the best of both worlds.”

I smile. Mostly because it seems like it’s what I’m supposed to do.

“And what about you?” Elodie says. “Do you honestly believe in all that fairy-tale, soulmate stuff?”

My gaze instinctively searches for Braxton. When I find him by the bar, deep in conversation with Oliver and Finn, I turn to Elodie and say, “It’s nice to think that it’s possible.”

Elodie studies me closely. “Well, beliefishalf the battle,” she says. Then, her voice gone suddenly serious, she adds, “Anyway, a word of advice?”

I hesitate. If this is about my relationship with Braxton, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to hear it. I’m still dealing with the fact that the two of them were once a couple.

“Honestly,” I tell her, “I’m not sure.”

I expect her to laugh or at the very least crack a grin. But instead, she leans closer and says, “If you’re going to delve into magick, you need to be sure of one thing—”

“Wait—magick?” I balk. This conversation has taken a detour I wasn’t expecting.

Elodie shoots me an impatient look. “Are you seriously going to pretend you’re surprised?”

Her gaze locks on mine as my mind spins back to Arthur’s office, when he told me about how the Timekeepers want to guard the secret of the true nature of our reality—the real power that exists within all of us but has so far been accessed by only a few.

Was Arthur talking about a kind of magick then, too?

“To be clear,” Elodie says, “I’m talking magick with aK. Not the stage magic of rabbits being pulled out of hats. But ratherrealmagick. The magick of the natural world—the invisible force that exists all around us. A force we encounter and interact with every day whether we know it or not. A force that exists independently of our acknowledgment. The sort of magick that blurs the line between fantasy and science. I’m sure you’re familiar with manifesting?”

This is getting weird. Still, I just look at her and say, “The idea that our thoughts create our reality?”

Elodie nods. “Some would consider that a type of magick. Alchemy, too, for that matter.”

So, Arthur really is the Magician—using his vision and his knowledge of alchemy to fulfill his dream of changing the world.

“And this naturally occurring portal that allows us to time travel—you don’t think that’s a sort of magick as well?” Elodie says.

I nod, wanting to tell her what Song said about magick being the currency of the oppressed, but Elodie starts talking again.

“Everything you perceive as solid matter is really just vibrating energy. And those who are attuned can manipulate that energy and bend it to their will.”

Kind of like how I can read the energy of objects by using psychometry.

“Magick is the most natural thing in the world.” Elodie drags the snake medallion across its gold chain. “You engage with it every day with the thoughts you generate. The only real difference between you and a true sorcerer is intent.”

She pauses to make sure I’m listening, but it’s totally unnecessary. I’m glomming on to every last word.

“When it comes to magick, your intention is everything. More than crystals, rituals, and whatever spells you might find in a book—while they do hold a certain energy—it’s your intent that serves as the fuel. So, until you’re crystal clear on exactly what your intention is, it’s best to stay away from all that. Otherwise, you risk falling victim to one whose intentions are far stronger than yours.”

There’s an uneasy twinge in my belly as I absorb the deeper meaning of her words. “Why do I feel like you’re trying to tell me something while at the same time avoiding what you actually mean to say?”

Elodie’s kohl-rimmed eyes lock onto mine. “It’s all right there, Natasha. No riddles, no subterfuge. As your friend, I just thought I should warn you.”

“Am I right to think you’re speaking from personal experience?” There’s a tremor in my voice, and I’m hoping she won’t notice. But who am I kidding? Nothing ever slips past her.