“You’re responsible for so much heartache. Your mother and your aunt didn’t use the book the way you did. You can’t just dream big. The energy to deliver your dreams must come from within you.”

Orelia looked back at William. “Close, my friend.”

She appeared unconcerned and he would admit, that worried him. A lot, if he was honest, which he wouldn’t be with her. Did she know something he didn’t? Still, he knew a little something himself and he still had his last card hidden. If this went south, he would play with his best poker face. So he would keep talking and keep the tremor from his voice, because he needed to keep her attention to buy time. How much time? Of that he was uncertain.

“So tell me,” he said, “how does it work?”

“Oh, a history lesson, is that what this is? With atmosphere thrown in. Are you crazy? Okay, I’ll bite. What the book can do might be described as spells or witchcraft, I guess, in the good old days. Before that, who knows? Divine intervention from gods. I’m sure somewhere in the future science will discover a flow of energy which influences nature and actions. A thread, a connection between everybody and everything. I think the special power of the diary is its ability to give focus to emotions and dreams.”

She paused. “I must say, you’ve done well to work most of this out. Took me years.”

“After what you did to me, you know I had no choice. You took my life for your own. Why, when I only tried to help?”

“You’re a fool. You helped me for yourself. People help others for their own benefit. The longer I live the less I believe in those memes. Generosity. Chivalry. Selflessness. Yeah, nobody’s all-wonderful. That’s how we survive, by using each other to do what we can’t or won’t. It’s the nature of society. Why we exist together.”

Her eyes became black slits; the pixie look gone. Orelia’s tightened mouth barely moved as she added without a pause, “Now I want the book. Do not make me angry. Do you know I don’t need it in my hands for the exchange to work?”

No, that was news. The butterflies had turned into grasshoppers and begun to jump in a chaotic dance.

He had come prepared and that would be news to her. What he couldn’t know was whether it would work.

“If you give back the diary, I promise you’ll be okay.”

“And what about everyone else you will hurt to continue living how you choose?”

She shrugged her shoulders and furrowed her brow. “What do you care?”

A thunderous bang along with a white-hot flash made William’s heart jump. The air around them became super-charged, sizzling with the energy of the storm. This time the rain gave no warning. One moment dry, the next, the sky opened as if a hole had been wrenched above to send down hell.

William fought the desire to run, to escape the deluge and get away from her. He knew what was coming. Hoped he’d been right. Prayed his idea would work. So many presumptions but please let luck be on his side. Crazy as it might seem, as he stood here in the middle of a goddamn graveyard, talking about luck and magic, he prayed if there was any god looking down, that he liked William’s side better than hers.