THE ROOM SHE invites me to is a mix of modern elements—outlets and a charging cable for a phone I don’t have—and nods to history. A washing basin in front of a heavy, gilded mirror. Wood paneling on three sides, and an accent wall of some sort of brocade in reds and yellows and greens. There’s a bathroom down the hall, and four other rooms on the second floor. I don’t have anything to unpack, but there are clothes laid out over a four-drawer, antique dresser that look like they might fit me, and accessories to keep me warm: leggings, a long dress with wide sleeves, a scarf, an oversized jacket with a hood. I change into all of the clothes, grateful for fresh laundry, and sit on the bed, eyes drifting shut within minutes.

I wake up on the bedcover in the late afternoon, face smushed into the floral comforter. I hadn’t even really intended to nap, but my body had other plans.

Lu meets me outside the house, or rather, I meet her. She looks settled on the porch by the time I arrive. Changed into an old pair of wide-legged jeans and a loose black shirt, hunched over a basket, picking through items. Her gray braids have been pulled up into a pile on her head.

Without preamble she says, “Folks who come here for work have to state their intention to their ancestors directly.”

“Makes sense.” I nod. “I know my intention: I wanna get stronger.”

Lu snorts, keeps hunting through the basket. Pulls out a couple of stones, a wrapped bit of herbs, a white cloth. “Maybe.”

Something like insult rips through my chest, surprising both Lu and myself. “What do you mean ‘maybe’? I’ve been through a lot to get here, even before I knew what Volition was, I knew I needed a place like it. I know what I want.”

“Intention isn’t want. Intention isn’t even need.” She looks up out at the yard, taps her pointer finger to her chest, then tips it outward. “Intention is the bare bones of desire, but it requires fuel. That fuel is your will.” She looks around. “ ‘Volition,’ the word, is your choice to attach and align yourself with your desire. The strongest of our workings come from this place of alignment.”

Sounds like something Patricia would say, except more nicely. “I already have a therapist,” I mutter.

“Good for you,” Lu says with a laugh. “I ain’t your therapist. I just work here.”

A lot more nicely.

Still, when I consider her words, I can’t help but think of the Legendborn Oaths. There are some overlapping principles, at least to me. Different words for the same ideas, different executions for similar goals. “Huh.”

“ ‘Huh’ what?”

I shrug. “The Legendborn, the Order, they work with intention magic, too. Their Oaths are based on that.”