Keiran shot him a dry look, as if to say, Don’t be absurd. “I believe she was meant to be a Selenic. To share with us the secrets of her magic.” His eyes met hers. “If she wishes to.”
Emory read the promise behind his words: If she agreed to it, they would keep her magic a secret. If she didn’t… Artem glared at her in a way that made it clear he would be all too happy to bring her straight to the Institute.
The Tidal Council seemed to consider it, exchanging a few hushed words. At last, Vivianne said, “Should anyone outside the Order ever find out what she is, we won’t be able to protect her without dragging our name through the mud. As leader of the current cohort, do you agree to take full responsibility for Ms. Ainsleif and bear the consequence if anything goes wrong?”
“I do,” Keiran said without hesitation.
Surely, Emory thought, he must have an ulterior motive, a reason to want her so badly to join the Order he would put his neck on the line like this.
“Then it’s settled,” Leonie declared. “You’ll have her take her oath tonight, like any other candidate does when first tapped for initiation, and officially induct her into our ranks. Do you accept this, Ms. Ainsleif?”
It was exactly what she had set out to do, but Emory couldn’t shake the feeling she’d gotten more than she could handle. It hit her fully then that everything she’d so desperately believed about her Tidecaller magic was false. It had nothing to do with the spiral mark, so why then did her blood now run with Eclipse magic?
Eclipse-born, Eclipse-formed.
Whatever her title, she was alone to bear it.
Keiran gave her a near-imperceptible nod, as if to say it’d be all right, that this was the right move to make.
Whatever happens, I’ve got your back.
She didn’t trust him for a second, not after he’d gotten her to reveal her magic in such a chaotic mess of a way. And yet… she couldn’t refuse the Order. Not when she was so close, and certainly not if the alternative was having her memory stripped or being escorted to the Institute.
She could do this—could be brave like Romie always was. Once she was in, she could finally find out the truth behind the drownings, ensure no one else suffered such a fate.
And perhaps there were answers about her own magic to be found here too.
Emory lifted her chin. “I do.”
14 BAZ
THIS WAS MADNESS.
It was the only thought Baz had as he gripped on to Vera for dear life. The wind tore at him as they sped their way out of Cadence, making his eyes water. His heart bounced up and down between his throat and the pit of his stomach, and every sharp turn and rushing descent had him thinking he would die. He had never felt more reckless in his entire sheltered existence and wondered if this was what it felt like to be truly alive.
He wasn’t sure if he hated it or loved it.
The rush of adrenaline left him on trembling knees when they arrived, leaving the motorbike down the road to avoid detection. The dark wood and stone of the Institute stuck out like a sore thumb against the quaint thatch-roofed cottages and sprawling estates on the outskirts of Cadence. The Regulator crest glittered silver above an imposing door, the sight of it enough to make Baz sick.
He looked at Vera and silently berated himself for his uncharacteristic spontaneity. He was trusting someone he didn’t know, about to break into the last place he ever wanted to step foot in.
Vera smirked at his expression as she worked to unlock a side door with a hair pin.
“So when you said engineering genius,” Baz muttered, “you meant picklock?”
“Picking locks is a bonus,” Vera said with a fiendish smile. The door pushed open. “What you need a genius for is this.”
Inside was a sort of engine room—full of electrical wires and machinery with knobs and lights that emitted soft sounds. It reminded Baz of his father’s printing press, but with much more modern equipment. Vera wasted no time: she quickly assessed the machines, pulling knobs and levers and pressing buttons here and there.
She jerked her chin to another door at the back of the room. “Should be good. Let’s go.”
Baz didn’t like her use of should, but he followed her all the same. Whatever she did had apparently deactivated all security around them, magical and otherwise, and they quickly wound through the empty corridors without so much as a hiccup.
He’d forgotten how bare and white and clinical everything was.
He would have gotten lost without Vera there to guide them. Soon enough he stood in front of a door labeled Kai Salonga, which Vera worked on unlocking again with her hairpin. Faint light shone through the small window on the door. Baz could just make out Kai’s outline inside. He lay on a narrow bed, one arm casually draped behind his head, the other occupied with twining what looked like a chess piece between his fingers.
Nerves gripped Baz. This really was the most senseless thing he’d ever done, but he was here now, just a step away from the one person who might hold all the answers. He looked at Vera and hesitated.
“Go,” she said knowingly. “I’ll be your lookout.”
Baz gave her a grateful nod and stepped inside.
Thin, dark eyes slid to him, full of cold fury that dissipated as soon as Kai recognized him. He sat up slowly, his hand engulfing the chess piece—a white pawn, Baz saw—and stared at Baz as if trying to work out if he was real.
Baz himself grappled with reality. He almost didn’t recognize Kai against such a bleak backdrop, a stark contrast to the shabby coziness of the Eclipse commons. Kai wore a simple white undershirt, the intricate geometrical tattoos on his collarbone peeking out at the top. He’d been allowed to keep his fine gold chains, Baz noticed—surely a small comfort to him, as he never took them off.
Mind racing with something clever to say, Baz palmed the back of his neck. His throat worked for air. Words would not come.
Kai’s mouth thinned to a knife-edged smile. “Nice of you to finally visit, asshole.”
His voice was conjured night. It was a dark wood at midnight, the chilling howl of a beast; it was the quiet of dreams and the pull of nightmares, lovely and frightening all at once.
And Baz had sorely missed it.
“You know how they get about Eclipse visitors,” he offered weakly.
Kai wasn’t fooled. “I’d hoped it might be you the other day when my parents came to visit. From halfway across the world, might I add. Even your friend Jae had the decency to stop by earlier.” The teasing note in his accusation didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Honestly, I’m surprised to see you here at all, given your aversion to this place.”
Kai knew better than anyone how Baz feared the threat of Collapsing so much he refused to visit his own father. Such was the Nightmare Weaver’s plight, to be burdened with the fears and nightmares of those around him.
Or at least, it had been.
Baz’s gaze slid to Kai’s left hand, where a U-shaped scar marred the surface of his Eclipse tattoo. The Unhallowed Seal that cut off his access to the magic in his veins. The U had many meanings: unhallowed, unfit, unbalanced, unworthy of magic—all the same, in the end. It was the only thing keeping Kai from becoming something other, a shadow self, as twisted and wrong as the Shadow was believed to have been.
Beneath it all, Baz imagined he could feel the ghost of Kai’s power, a silver beast put to sleep in his veins.
“You look…”
“Like shit?” Kai supplied with a cold laugh.