Chapter 28 Emory
WHAT JAE HAD SAID WERE a few jars of moonbrew ended up being a whole cellar full of them.
“Can you believe it?” Virgil exclaimed, grabbing as many jars as his arms could hold. “Barely any wine in this place, but moonbrew they’ve got enough of to last us through the coming apocalypse.”
Jars of the cloudy liquid were passed along to everyone in the safe house, and even the disagreeable scholar and his friends joined in this moment of levity.
Even Baz, whom Emory had never seen drink before.
It was a delight to see the pink tinge to his cheeks, the easy smile he wore, the way his voice grew louder as he talked and laughed with family and friends, so very carefree.
Only Sidraeus kept to himself, sticking to the shadows and watching the merriment with an unreadable expression. But Emory could tell there was something like longing there, a desire to be a part of such mundane behavior. What kept him from joining in, she didn’t know.
The night went on and thoughts of Sidraeus vanished from her mind just as he seemed to vanish from the party.
Emory found herself listening to her father, Alya, and Vera exchange memories of her mother; found herself laughing until her sides hurt at the stories Jae and Theodore told as they reminisced on the early years of their printing press, as Professor Selandyn poked fun at them by telling her own stories of them as students back in the day.
Emory hadn’t felt this light in ages. Being here felt oddly like home.
Maybe it had to do with the fact that her father was here, a piece of the home she’d always known.
And Baz, too; the home she’d come to find in all the mornings spent with him hunched over books in the Decrescens library, in all the tiny moments where familiarity had breathed in their silences.
Or even the family she had found in Vera and Alya, a different kind of home she was still getting used to.
But it was more than that. Here she was surrounded by people who were ready to fight, and she’d never felt such a sense of belonging before. Of community.
When she’d first learned of her Tidecaller abilities, she’d balked at the idea of belonging to House Eclipse, had fought desperately to hold on to her identity as a Healer.
She’d wanted to be accepted by the Selenic Order, to be seen as valuable by people she believed would protect her and the truth of her magic.
But that mindset had shifted over time, until lying about her identity had seemed more daunting to her than anything else.
And now that she was finally back here, nothing had ever felt more right than being part of House Eclipse. Fighting for justice alongside them.
Emory found herself looking at her New Moon tattoo. In this moment, she wanted desperately to have an Eclipse one.
Maybe there was someone here who had experience with tattoos. If anything, Baz had talent with drawing—though, remembering how queasy he’d been the first time he’d stuck a needle in her arm to draw her blood and test it in the selenograph, he was maybe not the best person to ask.
She searched for Baz now but couldn’t find him.
As Virgil plopped down on a chair next to her, Vera, and Nisha, a sudden solemnity fell over the four of them.
They hadn’t been alone together since coming back from the sea of ash, and it struck Emory that no one here could understand what they’d gone through—the worlds they’d traveled, the people they’d met and lost along the way.
As if the same thought crossed his mind, Virgil lifted his glass of moonbrew. “To the keys.”
“May their souls find the rest they deserve,” Nisha whispered with tears in her eyes.
The four of them drank as one. Emory felt hollow.
She could scarcely believe they were gone.
Aspen, whom she’d grown so close to, whose own mother and sister—the latter likely still in a coma—didn’t even know she was gone.
Tol, whom she hadn’t known for long but admired all the same.
And Orfeyi, whom she’d been robbed of knowing at all.
She’d failed them. Hadn’t been able to save them from sacrifice. And though Romie wasn’t among them, she may as well be, if Emory didn’t find a way to separate her from Atheia.
Nisha’s gaze found hers. “Tell me we can save her,” she said in such a broken voice it made Emory want to curl up and cry.
“I don’t know,” Emory said in earnest. “But I’m not giving up on her.”
Nisha gave her a wobbly smile. “Me neither.”
Later, when the celebration had mostly died down, Emory found Baz outside sitting in the tall grass, watching the nighttime waves. She plopped down next to him, realizing with a giggle how unsteady she was after all the moonbrew.
“Careful,” Baz said with a laugh of his own. The moonlight reflected in his glasses, outlining him in silver.
“I can’t believe we’re back on this beach,” Emory said.
“Feels like this is where it all started.”
Baz leaned back on his elbows, long legs splayed out before him. He gazed at the sky with such longing, Emory couldn’t help but do the same, reminded of the time they’d been in Romie’s greenhouse watching shooting stars together. Romie’s absence had been as stark then as it was now.
For a time, they were silent, with only the rhythmic crashing of waves between them.
“You know what I miss?” Emory said. “The Noviluna Hall coffee cart.”
Baz made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat. “That coffee tasted like cardboard.”
“I don’t care. I loved it. And it was always funny seeing you pretend to drink it when I brought you a cup.”
Baz grinned. “I miss the Decrescens library.”
“Of course you’d miss the library of all things.”
“What? I miss the quiet. The early mornings when there was no one but you and me.” He glanced back at the safe house. “There are so many people here. I’d give anything for a good library to escape into.”
Emory smiled. At least some things about him hadn’t changed. “I miss the Eclipse commons,” she said, keeping this little game going. “I didn’t get to spend enough time there.”
“I miss Dusk,” Baz sighed. “I hope he’s being taken care of.”
“Yeah, poor thing.”
“I thought you hated him.”
“I don’t hate him. It’s not my fault I kicked him in my sleep one time and the damn cat never forgave me.”
They laughed together, the moonbrew perhaps making this funnier than it was.
But it felt so normal that Emory forgot everything else as they kept reminiscing about their time at Aldryn.
She suddenly had an image of them in Obscura Hall, sitting on the sofa after she’d ventured into the sleepscape for the first time.
How close they’d been. The way she’d touched his hair, wondered at how different he looked without his glasses.
He looked no different to her now. He was Baz, steady and sure and real and here.
He smelled of coffee and citrus and home.
She was reminded of what he’d said to her that time in the Eclipse commons.
How he’d shared with her that he wanted to become a professor at Aldryn to make it into a sanctuary for Eclipse-born. A place where they could feel safe.
You’re good at this, Baz, she’d told him then, and still thought so now.
And as their eyes locked and the laughter faded from their lips, she was struck with the same thought she’d had back then, imagining what it might be like to kiss him. Without knowing what she was doing, she leaned in to find out.
“I’m with Kai,” Baz blurted out, dodging her advance.
Emory pulled away sharply, the words slow to register in her moonbrew-addled mind. She covered her mouth in horror as the weight of what she’d tried to do hit her. “Tides, I’m such a fool. I should have known you two were—”
“I meant to tell you earlier.” Baz’s cheeks had turned pink. “Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? That’s—I’m the one who’s sorry.
” She should have seen it before. The signs were there, after all.
Baz’s desperation to find Kai, the look in his eyes when he spoke about him.
Virgil joking about Kai being Baz’s nightmare-weaving boyfriend.
And hadn’t part of Emory always suspected there was more to their friendship?
She covered her face with both hands, wanting to disappear. “Can we please pretend I didn’t do that and just blame it on the moonbrew?”
A breathy chuckle from Baz. “Sure.” He sat up and drew his legs against his chest. He looked at her over his shoulder, searching her gaze. “Can I ask… was it ever real between us?”
“Of course it was.” The words left her mouth before she could think.
There had been nothing accusatory about his question, no anger or pressure. But it laid bare a truth that not even her answer could deny.
This—her foolish attempt to kiss him—was her using him all over again, seeking comfort in a moment of turmoil, familiarity at a time where the world seemed to be ending.
Baz must know it. It was why he’d asked such a question, his way of calling her out on it, his gentle prying into her mind to see if she had ever truly wanted this, or if she had only ever used him with another end in sight.
But it had been real, there was no doubt in her mind about this fact.
She could have seen herself with him. She imagined it now, how life would have been if she’d given him a chance instead of falling prey to Keiran’s calculated charm.
If she’d stuck by Baz when they were still at prep school instead of retreating from him the way everyone else had, letting their friendship turn to dust before it could flourish into something more.
If she hadn’t been so consumed by this perfect image of what she’d thought she wanted her life to look like, she could have been happy with Baz. He would have made her a better person. That was the impact he had on people. He made them want to grow and improve and become people worthy of his love.
She regretted it, never giving him a proper chance. Manipulating him the way she had.
But there was no taking it back. She couldn’t rewind time the way Baz might. And she wouldn’t want to, especially not if it meant taking away what he had found with Kai.
Kai, who was infinitely better to Baz than Emory ever was. Who’d always seen his worth and never shied away from it.
Maybe this was her punishment. To be too late in seeing Baz the way she saw him now. To have lost him before realizing what they might have been.
Emory sat up and laid a hand on Baz’s arm.
“It was real,” she repeated, swallowing past the lump in her throat.
“But it’s over now, isn’t it?” She gave him a weak smile.
“You and Kai were always meant for each other. I just hope I haven’t ruined everything between us. I don’t want to lose you again.”
“You won’t.” Baz pulled her in against him. “What we have can never be ruined.”
And here at last was the final truth between them, the final card laid out on the table. The could-haves and what-ifs, and the friendship that remained. That would always remain.
Even as her heart hurt for the version of them that might have existed in another life, Emory was grateful for this.
This time, she wouldn’t be so careless with his friendship. She would hold on to it and never let go.