Curious Tides (Drowned Gods, #1)

“Yeah.”

Baz thumbed the pages of Dark Tides as they kept walking. There was palpable excitement in the air as students made their way to the site of the festival on the banks of the River Helene. Everlight lanterns dangled from branches arcing overhead, lining the path down to the river, which slithered through the woods that hugged the hill upon which Aldryn College stood. The magicked lanterns were barely needed on such a night: the waxing gibbous hung high in the sky, its silvery light flooding the woods.

There was no sign of Jae. They’d sent word to Baz the morning after the Institute, letting him know they were safe and confirming they’d come to the equinox festival. It was the only reason Baz was here at all. He never came to these things—too many people, an absolute nightmare. He was grateful to have Vera with him at least. She’d been eager to tag along, claiming she’d never been to such a festival before. They don’t have them in Trevel, she’d said. Baz suspected she also just wanted to see Jae again, so fascinated had she been by their magic.

He couldn’t wait to pester Jae for their thoughts on Dark Tides. It was a truly odd book. Obscure theories on rare tidal movements said to influence magic in strange ways, stranger still than any ecliptic event ever did. Rip currents that brought deadly plagues or incredible fortune to whatever shores they unfurled on. Tides that gifted people with astoundingly long life, and others said to spawn transformations that could only be the stuff of myth, tales of merfolk and men who howled at the moon like wolves. And these water holes that acted as portals believed to take you to distant ports and continents or other worlds entirely.

It was exactly the kind of reading material Professor Selandyn loved to pore over. Impossible magics and theories that weren’t exactly plausible but that she’d entertain nonetheless, often proving them right or wrong. Baz had thought of going to her first about what he’d read in Dark Tides, but after what she’d made him promise, he’d decided a third party might be best.

“But do you think there’s any plausibility to these things being actual doorways?” he asked Vera excitedly. “Here, look—”

He stopped under a lantern and flipped to a particular passage that had drawn his eye.


The tide sinks and swirls out of sight through these holes, carrying along whatever or whoever falls into them. It is said that the Tides sank down into such water holes to bring the Shadow into the Deep, thus spawning this long-standing belief that they are doors to the Deep itself; portals into the dark hellscape that lies at the bottom of the sea. Others believe these carrier tides unfurl onto distant shores, though none have ever survived to tell the tale.*

*The authors of this work urge their readers caution where these “doors” are concerned, and remove themselves from all responsibility following any disappearance, injury, or death that should arise.



Vera frowned at the page. “You think Dovermere is a door to the Deep? That it’s the way to other worlds?”

“I think, at the very least, that’s what my sister believed.”

“Except Dovermere is very much still a cave, not the old remains of one. It’s not… whatever this door is supposed to look like.”

Baz groaned and shoved the book back in his bag. She was right. It felt like he was grasping at straws. And yet…

A portal on a page, a door to the Deep, a song heard between the stars. Whatever it was, it all came back to Dovermere.

Jae would have answers—Baz was sure of it.

He buried his hands in his coat pockets, savoring the crunch of leaves under the soles of his shoes. The trees had only just begun turning, but some were already shedding their leaves, creating a carpet of rusts and golds to lead the students to the festival. They made their way down the path in clusters of twos and threes, laughing and talking excitedly about the night ahead and the various parties planned after the ritual itself.

“You know, my mother always said that if anyone were to find the epilogue, it would be Adriana,” Vera said suddenly, kicking at a pinecone. “When she got an idea in her head, she wouldn’t let it go. She was so young when she made it out here. Sailed across the seas all on her own, hitting every port town and coastal point of interest where she thought the epilogue might be hidden. Aldryn was the one she had her sights on the most, of course, since Clover studied here.”

The path before them branched off in two directions: downriver to the left, and upriver to the right. Those chosen to perform feats of magic on their house’s boat would head right to the wooden quays where the boats were set to launch. Baz and Vera turned left to where students were gathered on the riverbank on wool blankets. Kiosks were scattered among the crowd, selling drinks and treats to be enjoyed during the performance. Vera pulled him to one selling fried dough and hot cocoa.

“And you really have no idea what happened to her?” Baz asked as she handed the kiosk worker a few coins.

Vera shut her eyes as she took a sip of cocoa, puckering her lips. “She disappeared. Whether that’s because her ship capsized or someone beat her to the epilogue and killed her for it or because she found a door to the Deep and slipped into another world, she’s gone. And that’s the end of it.”

She shoved the paper bag of fried dough under his nose, all but forcing Baz to take one.

“I thought being part of the Veiled Atlas meant you’d be the first one to go looking for the epilogue.”

Vera laughed, licking sugar off her fingers. “I’m part of the Veiled Atlas because I was born into a family that believes in the magic of other worlds. And I do too. But take it from a magical reject like me: some powers are beyond our understanding, and it’s best we leave them alone.” She stuffed the last of the fried dough into her mouth. “Just something to think about before this obsession you seem to have with Dovermere gets you killed. Now, can we please hurry up and find a good spot? I don’t want to miss the spectacle.”

Vera caught him glancing around for Jae again and said, “I’m sure they’ll turn up. No point trying to find them in this large a crowd anyway. Come on.”

Baz knew she was right. Still, unease made his stomach turn, and he suddenly regretted eating that fried dough—especially as he caught sight of Emory.

She sat not ten feet away next to a dark-haired girl Baz thought was called Penelope. Emory gave him a tight smile he didn’t know how to respond to. They hadn’t seen each other since the other day in the quad, and though Baz felt bad for postponing the training session he’d promised her, he told himself it was for the best. He didn’t think he could handle much else at the moment, and yet… he hadn’t realized until just now how he missed their quiet mornings in the library. How much he missed her.

Vera nudged him. “Friend of yours?” At Baz’s noncommittal response, she cocked an eyebrow. “Let’s go say hello.”

“No, Vera—”

But she was already introducing herself to Emory and Penelope, who invited her to sit with them. Baz had no choice but to follow. Penelope was wedged between Vera on one side and Emory on the other, and this was Baz’s worst nightmare. Panicked, he sat beside Vera, who gave him a withering look as if to say, Not here, stupid. Too late. He jerked his chin toward Emory in an awkward hello before glancing uneasily around for Jae again, trying not to think of all the ways Kai would make fun of his gaucheness if he were here.

As Vera chattered enthusiastically with Penelope—who apparently had family in Trevel and knew people who went to university with Vera—someone else knelt at Emory’s side. Baz’s stomach fell. Keiran was leaning in close to whisper something in her ear, and Baz didn’t miss the way Emory ducked her head to hide a smile.

So that’s how it was, then.

Something in Baz dimmed. He looked away, but not before Keiran’s gaze met his, an ember of that earlier storm he’d seen brewing in his eyes.

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