Chapter 20 Baz #2
Suddenly a thick blanket of darkness unfolded across the cove, attacking the Regulators.
They retreated toward the Eclipse commons, shouting in terror at whatever they saw in the shadows chasing after them—shadows that were coming from Emory.
Baz heard Drutten yelling at his people to get behind the school’s wards as Emory advanced calmly through the chaos, sand and sea and shadows swirling around her in a lethal dance.
This was not the same Emory he knew. If Baz had thought her different at the beginning of the school year, in the wake of Romie’s drowning, that was nothing compared to what he saw now.
There was a hardness to her. As if all the sharp edges that perhaps had always been there were filed to barbs now.
As if the storm clouds in her eyes had turned into a hurricane, promising a flood.
An all-consuming destruction of those around her—and perhaps herself, too.
Baz stepped in front of her. “Emory.”
Those stormy eyes met his. For a second it felt like she didn’t see him. That she didn’t remember who he was and would doom them both, letting the hurricane of her power drown them to ruin.
But then the clouds lifted.
A glimmer of light. A flash of something soft and tender and hopeful.
“Baz?” Her voice came out in an awed whisper. Her brows scrunched up in confusion as the power around her flickered in and out. Like she didn’t fully trust what she saw. “Is it really you?”
Baz approached her with his palms up. “Of course it’s me.”
She swayed on her feet, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob spilling from her lips. And then her arms were around Baz, her face buried in his neck, and he was holding her tightly, so tightly, if only just to prove to himself that she was real. That this was real.
“I’m sorry,” she cried into his shoulder. “I tried everything, but she’s—Romie’s gone, Baz.”
Baz held her at arm’s length, her tearstained face breaking his heart as much as her words. “What do you mean, gone?”
“She’s Atheia’s vessel. The Tides, I mean. They have her now, and they’ve come here to—they’re here because—”
Baz could barely understand. All he heard in what Emory said was that Romie was alive, and here, in this world.
“I can sense her near.”
This came from the auburn-haired boy hovering behind Emory.
His head was tilted toward the cliffside, and his nostrils flared as he inhaled the brine of the sea.
He took a step, face darkening with something hungry and dangerous—until a cry of pain slipped from him as he stumbled back, clutching his side.
He glowered at Emory, face contorted in pain and rage. “I was promised vengeance.”
“Not yet,” she gritted out.
Baz caught her as she lurched on her feet. It took a moment for the bloodied dagger in her hand to register. Blood seeped through her clothes where she—
“Did you stab yourself?”
Emory waved off the high-pitched concern in his voice with a watery smile. “I’ll be fine. Is there somewhere safe we can go and—”
“This is ridiculous,” the boy cut her off. “We can end this all right now if you just let me go after Atheia.”
“I said no.” Emory’s steely tone sent a shiver up Baz’s spine.
The dark power that emanated from the strange boy was unsettling. “Who is he?” Baz asked, fighting the urge to pull Emory away from him.
“This is Sidraeus,” Emory said. Then, haltingly, “Otherwise known as the Shadow.”
Baz’s eyes went wide as he took in the Tides-damned deity standing before him—as the Shadow himself looked back at him with familiar ecliptic eyes, reminding Baz of the darkness that had spilled into Keiran’s revived corpse.
Behind him, Alya swore. “The Tidelore cultists are going to have a field day with this.”
It couldn’t possibly be the Shadow. He looked nothing like the hundreds of images Baz had seen of the supposedly evil Eclipse deity, but then again, those might have been overly influenced by the Tidelore faith’s hatred for Eclipse-born over time.
He noticed then the spiral marks etched on his skin that peaked out from beneath the embroidered navy jacket he had on.
They were like replicas of the spiral Emory had on her wrist, but multiplied, some small and some large, looping together in a great pattern. All of them glowed faintly.
“We need to get to safety before the tide comes back,” Ife said. “Or worse—Drutten and his Regulators.”
She was holding on to Nisha, who smiled faintly at Baz. Virgil gave him a jerk of his chin, looking graver than Baz had ever seen him. Whatever they’d gone through to get here, it was bleak.
Baz turned to Alya, who was fussing over a tired-looking Vera. “You mentioned a train to Threnody?”
Alya gave a tight-lipped nod. “But the Regulators will probably be there waiting for us by now…”
“Why Threnody?” Vera asked.
“There’s a safe house there,” Baz said. “For Eclipse-born.”
Emory frowned. “Do you know where exactly in Threnody it is?”
“Near the old prep school is all I’ve been told,” said Alya.
“Can you get us there?” Emory asked the boy—the Shadow. They exchanged a weighted glance, a silent conversation seeming to pass between them as time ticked on. Baz didn’t miss the way Emory gripped the dagger tighter, a threat that had the Shadow squaring his jaw and narrowing his eyes at her.
“Fine,” he said at last. “I’ll help. But you owe me, Tidecaller.”
“No.” Emory leveled him with a stony glare. “I own you.”
The Shadow looked like he was going to throttle her, yet all he did was proffer his arm. She rested her hand on it, smug satisfaction tugging at her lips, leaving Baz to wonder what in the Tides’ name was going on here.
Emory instructed everyone to grab on to the Shadow. Baz was last to do so, hesitantly resting his hand next to Emory’s. The Shadow’s ecliptic eyes snapped to him the moment Baz touched him, as if seared by the contact.
And then darkness swallowed them all whole, and Dovermere Cove disappeared around them.
It felt oddly like when the threads of time in the sleepscape had dragged Baz and Kai back into the past, a maelstrom of swirling darkness pulling him at vast speed somewhere he did not know. But these were not threads of time, nor any magic Baz knew or understood.
When the world finally stopped spinning, he found himself standing on a familiar beach. Tall grass sang on the sloped dunes behind him. Seagulls flew overhead. If he strained his ear, he could almost hear the sound of Romie’s laughter as she ran into the waves.
He met Emory’s gaze, and it was like that precious shared memory flitted between them.
And then the Shadow had his hands wrapped around Baz’s neck, his eyes flaring unnaturally, mouth curled on a snarl. “I can smell him on you,” he hissed. “Did he send you here to return me to my prison?”
Baz sputtered, legs kicking wildly beneath him as the Shadow lifted him from the ground.
He was distantly aware of Emory shouting at the Shadow, grasping at his arms to make him let go of Baz.
Darkness gathered around him as if he were an umbra, tendrils of it wrapping around Baz’s torso and neck to squeeze the breath out of him.
Then, just as quickly as it started, his feet hit the ground, and the darkness receded. The Shadow seemed taken aback, gasping for breath just as Baz was, the silver spirals on his skin flaring bright.
“You have the stench of time on you,” he snarled at Baz, rubbing at his own neck as if he’d been the one being choked. “What did the almighty”—he spat the word like it was a curse— “promise you?”
“Who are you talking about?”
But even as Baz cried out the question, he knew the answer. And when the Shadow spoke his name, there was not a doubt in Baz’s mind who he meant.
“Equilibris.”
The god of balance.
“Look,” Nisha cried out, pointing farther up the beach, where the air seemed to shimmer and part like a curtain. Out of it appeared someone walking toward them with purpose. Beneath their open wool coat, they wore slacks and a billowing shirt with ample sleeves and layered necklaces.
Baz’s heart leapt at the familiar short hair, jet-black and streaked with more silver than he remembered. “Jae?”
Jae Ahn broke into a wide grin. “Thank the Tides, it is you!”
Baz was engulfed in Jae’s embrace, holding on to them tightly, heart swelling to know they were okay. It was in this moment that he finally allowed himself to breathe deep and think to himself that perhaps everything was going to be okay.