Chapter 4 Emory
“WHAT THE FUCK,” ROMIE WHISPERED. “What the fuck?”
“So I wasn’t imagining things?” Emory asked, closing the door to their parlor behind her. “The spiral—”
“It makes no sense. How can it be the same?”
The resemblance to their own spiral mark was too striking, too impossible, to be mere coincidence. In their world, the Sacred Spiral was attributed to the Tides, but here, it sounded like it was the mark of the witches’ own deity, the Sculptress.
“And don’t even get me started on the ascension,” Romie said with a hysterical laugh.
She started pacing, tracking mud on the floor.
“How long do you think that poor girl was buried for? I can’t believe they bury their children alive for them to ascend into their power.
And then to suggest exorcism!” Another gruff laugh.
“And Mrs. Amberyl had the audacity to call me barbaric when I explained bloodletting to her.”
Emory remembered that conversation well. Mrs. Amberyl had sneered at Romie’s description of the bloodletting practice those of their world relied on to use magic outside of their ruling moon phase. “How incredibly barbaric.”
A laughable statement now that they’d seen how a witch’s magic came about.
Emory kept seeing Bryony’s blackened eyes, hearing that strange voice come out of her. “Demonic possession,” she said in a horrified murmur. “That can’t be possible, right?”
“Sure looked like it.” Romie plopped down on the divan. “But that voice—I’ve heard it before.”
“What?”
“I didn’t want to freak you out, but… there’s something really weird happening with the sleepscape.”
The blood rushed from Emory’s face. “Weird how?”
“You know I can sense umbrae hovering at the edges of dreams, right? That’s usually my cue to leave, to come back to the waking world before they devour the dream I’m in.
But ever since we’ve been here, I’ve felt something darker than the umbrae hovering at the edges of the star-lined path.
” Romie worried her lip. “That’s where I heard that voice.
From that dark presence, whispering in that strange tongue.
I can’t shake this idea that whatever it is, it’s trying to escape the sleepscape. ”
“You think what possessed Bryony was an umbra?”
“Demon, umbra… Is there really a difference?”
Emory thought back to the umbrae that had attacked them in the sleepscape right before they came here. The way she’d healed all of them—how such power should have made her Collapse but had left her totally and utterly fine.
What had Kai said to her once? That umbrae were attracted to new magic. Like the kind of magic she’d used. Perhaps it had gotten the attention of something worse, too.
She frowned. “But how could an umbra possess a witch like that?”
“What Mrs. Amberyl said, about their rotting woods… What if it really is our fault? We opened the door between this realm and the sleepscape. Maybe a crack was left open for all kinds of horrors to slip through.”
A nervous laugh bubbled out of Emory. She felt on the verge of tears, and there was an unpleasant acidity in her mouth that tasted very much like fear. “Let’s not admit to our possible guilt out loud when they’re talking about purging the evil from their world. They want to get rid of us, Ro.”
“Well, it’s not like we’re planning to stay here, anyway. We’ll just have to leave before the new moon.” Romie eyed her with that wariness again. “What I’m saying is, whatever you did in the sleepscape must have caught the umbrae’s attention, and now that we’re here… maybe they’re coming after us.”
Emory ignored the blame in those words. “All the more reason we have to find a way home.”
“No, you don’t get it. I think the forces within the sleepscape are after us because they want to stop us.”
“Stop us from what?”
“From reaching the sea of ash, of course.”
There it was. Emory’s shoulders slumped. “Ro, be serious.”
“I am being serious. Look around you, Em. We’re quite literally in a world from Song of the Drowned Gods, called here by a song we both heard.
If this is real, then why shouldn’t the rest of the story be?
” She pointed to Emory, then to herself, saying, “You’re the scholar who found a portal to other worlds.
I’m the girl of dreams who was slumbering among the stars.
And now we’ve found a witch with the same spiral mark that we have.
Two witches, apparently! Bryony and Aspen are the missing pieces we need. They’re the reason we’re here.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
Something shifted in Romie, that fervor in her eyes banking, bringing her back down to earth.
She swallowed hard before saying, “Look, I know I messed up back at Aldryn. Obsessing over the epilogue the way I did… I lost sight of what was important to me and nearly lost everything in the process. I don’t want to do that again.
But I swear, Em, I’m right about this. All I’m asking is that you trust me. ”
“Of course I trust you.”
“Then let’s do this together. The way it always should have been.”
Hearing those words resonated with Emory. For a long time, she’d resented Romie for her secrecy and obsession, for throwing away their friendship along with everything else that had been important to her—like Romie’s budding romance with Nisha and her relationship with Baz.
But now a part of Emory understood. Because while Romie had lost herself searching for the epilogue, Emory had lost herself searching for Romie.
She, too, had alienated and used the only real friends she’d had left in search of power and acceptance, which she’d sought from people who, in hindsight, might not have been the best influence on her.
Keiran sure hadn’t been. Neither had Lizaveta, despite her veiled warnings.
Virgil and Nisha had been the only Selenic Order members Emory had connected with, but it still felt to her like she’d been too consumed by Keiran to give them a proper chance.
“Can we make each other a promise?” Romie asked.
At the solemnity in her voice, Emory sat next to her on the divan. “Of course. Anything.”
“We’re in this mess because of the secrets I kept.”
“Ro…”
“No, let me finish. I hate that I lost you even before I went to Dovermere. And when I thought I might be dead, I hated that I would never be able to make amends. But we’re here now. Together. And I don’t want any secrets between us anymore.”
Guilt stabbed through Emory. “I don’t either.”
“So no secrets, then?”
Everything Emory was keeping from Romie rose to the surface.
The pull of her magic and the ghosts it conjured.
Tides, even the truth about Keiran. Romie knew of his betrayal, how the entire Selenic Order had fallen for his lies, but she didn’t know about Emory’s relationship with him.
Emory had kept that detail out, too embarrassed to admit she’d let her feelings for Keiran cloud her judgment.
She didn’t want to lie to Romie. But it wasn’t like Romie was being entirely truthful with her, either. Whatever she felt about Emory’s magic hung between them like an impenetrable wall. But Emory wasn’t ready to tear it down just yet and find out what lay behind it.
“No secrets,” she said with a smile she hoped reached her eyes.
“Good.” Romie rested her cheek on Emory’s shoulder and sighed happily. “You know, as much as I love being here with you, I feel bad for my brother. The dork would have a field day with this.”
Emory snorted on a laugh. “He’d probably pass out from excitement.” The thought of Baz made her heart sink. Quietly, she added, “I do miss him, though.”
Romie leaned back and waggled her brows at her. “Like, miss him, or miss him miss him?”
This, at least, was one truth Emory hadn’t hidden from Romie. How close she’d become to Baz in Romie’s absence. How confused she was about what she felt for him.
“I’m not sure,” Emory said with a sad smile. And she genuinely was unsure. She missed him more deeply every time she felt homesick, because she realized that Baz had become her anchor. The one person she knew she could depend on.
She missed his friendship, his companionship, his solid presence. But she wasn’t sure she missed him like that.
There was that kiss on the beach, and their goodbye in the cave, playing still in the back of her mind.
But those weren’t the first things that came to mind when she thought of Baz.
And that made her feel awful all over again, remembering how she’d used his feelings for her to get something out of him.
Maybe if they made it back home, she would give him a chance. A proper chance this time, to see if these feelings he’d always had for her could be reciprocated.
Or maybe it was best to let it go.
Emory let out a long exhale, glancing at the window. From the looks of it, the witches had returned from the forest: the gardens around Amberyl House were all alight, and music drifted toward them.
“We’ll have a hard time convincing Aspen and Bryony of anything, with how deep Mrs. Amberyl has her claws in them,” Emory said.
Romie raised a brow. “With that rebellious streak in Aspen? Please. The girl is begging to be let free from her mother’s rigid rules.” That bright fervor reignited in Romie’s eyes. “Let’s go do some sleuthing, shall we?”
If the ascension festivities were meant to be festive, the reality sorely fell short of expectations.
The gardens surrounding Amberyl House had been transformed for the night, full of ribbons that fluttered in the breeze and glass jars alight with the glow of fireflies trapped within.
It should have been enchanting, but the scene was underscored with an eerie quality.
The music was erratic and haunting, and the movements of those dancing were twisted, as if they were trying to conjure the Sculptress herself or summon more witches from their graves.