Emory might have gone where Baz could not follow, to answer a call that was beyond his hearing, but he still had a part to play. She was the sea, moving in and out of his life, between this world and the next. But what was the sea if it had no shore to return to?
The door to the Deep needed guarding. Dovermere needed a keeper. And if there was even the slightest chance that Emory might make it back, then Baz would ensure the door still stood. He would make sure it was safe for her and Romie to return.
He traced the upward slant of the stairs hidden in the cliffside. Light shone through the window at the top, and if he squinted hard enough, he thought he could make out Dusk’s shadow, tail flicking as he waited for Baz to find him in the Eclipse commons. His heart yearned for that room, the illusioned field beyond. At his side, Kai looked up at the same spot, full of longing for the place they’d shared that had become theirs.
“Let’s go home,” Baz said.
To Aldryn, to Obscura Hall. To the world that still needed them, the truths that needed sharing to protect their own.
The school had always been Baz’s world, more real to him than anything else. It was his home, and his to protect now.
He had glimpsed the stars to other worlds and the darkness that cradled them.
He was no longer scared of reaching for them.
EPILOGUE
IN THE MORNING, BAZ STOOD beneath the illusion of a brilliant sunrise.
A gentle breeze made the tall grasses around him sing. Behind the swaying mane of a willow tree, in the Eclipse commons he called home, Kai slept. Dreamed. Soon they would have to head into town, where they were to meet with Jae, Theodore, Vera, Alya, and Professor Selandyn to make sense of this mess and figure out what to do next. They had evidence of what Keiran and Artem had done, how they’d been harnessing magic from Eclipse-born and meant to use Emory to destroy them, but exposing such injustice would require patience, a tactful approach. And then there was the matter of their Collapsing, this earth-shattering truth the world wasn’t yet ready to hear.
The road ahead wouldn’t be easy. But for now the world was quiet, and nothing could ruin it.
Baz didn’t hear Kai until he was breathing at his side, his shoulder brushing his. He looked at Kai, and his heart soared to see the Nightmare Weaver back where he belonged.
“Did you get it?” Baz asked.
Kai handed him a single page that, if fitted into the spine of the manuscript it was once ripped out from, would change the story’s outcome.
The epilogue, lost and found again.
Tell Kai I left it for him to find.
Baz had to wonder if this might all be a dream, if he was still asleep and Kai was playing tricks on him for old times’ sake. But there was no deception in Kai’s eyes, and the epilogue felt entirely real in his hands.
“I don’t think Emory’s the only one who can cross through worlds unscathed,” Kai said at last.
Baz read the words once, twice, thrice, and when they finally sank in, he looked at Kai through tears, unburdened by fear as he thought, The story has only just begun.
SONG OF THE DROWNED GODS
EPILOGUE:
THE SLEEPERS AMONG THE STARS
There is a world between all worlds where dreams and nightmares slumber.
Stars wink in and out of being in the darkness that cradles them. They are tended to by their keepers, sometimes a girl who wears hopes and dreams like a glittering crown of stars, sometimes a boy who weaves fears and nightmares into a cloak he bears so she need not have to.
They, too, hear the song that soars through the skies.
The drowned gods knew of them, once. But they did not call on the girl of stars or the boy of darkness like the others they lured to their sea of ash; they did not need them, only the four. The scholar, the witch, the warrior, and the guardian. Four keys to open a door, four lives to serve as payment, four parts of a whole trapped in a world not their own.
The skies always remember the blood and bones and heart and soul—but never the fragments of dreaming in between, for those belong to no world, and so belong to all. The fifth key that slumbers unseen among the stars.
And so it is that when the skies grow quiet with the absence of song, the girl dons her crown, the boy his cloak, and together they sail through the dark toward the sea of ash, ready to join the others at last. To save them from their prison of dust and nothingness at the center of all things.
Tell me a story, the girl says dreamily as they sail through worlds and between them too.
The boy sets his eye on the distant horizon, his cloak of nightmares rippling in the wind.
There is a scholar on these shores who breathes stories, he begins.
It is a tale both of them know but have yet to make their own. And as they sail the skies and seas and everything in between, following the memory of a song like a map through the stars, the story becomes theirs, its ending yet unwritten.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
THIS BOOK WAS NOT MY first love.
There were two who came before it: the story that sparked my passion for writing, and the one that haunted me for a decade after. Curious Tides is the story I was always meant to find. The one that took time. It’s got a lot of me in it: dreams, regrets, flaws, hopes. I wrote it looking back at my early twenties, a time that feels like a crossroads between who you are and who you want to be. I lost sight of who I was then, and writing this was a bit like finding my old self again. It feels right that it should be the book I debut with.
I couldn’t have done this without all of those who took a chance on me. First and foremost, to my absolute rock star of an agent, Victoria Marini: grateful doesn’t even begin to cover it. This industry can seem intimidating from the outside looking in, but having you in my corner makes it feel less so. Thank you for being the best, most trustworthy advocate I could have asked for—and for being Kai’s number one fan.
To my editor, Sarah McCabe: there aren’t enough words to express how lucky I am to have found someone whose vision for Curious Tides so perfectly resonates with my own. Your edit letters always leave me brimming with excitement and ideas. Thank you for helping me bring this story to life. And to Anum Shafqat: I’m so happy you came onboard with Sarah. If two heads are better than one, then three’s the winning number. Working with you both has been a dream—thanks for the brainstorming sessions, without which I would have been lost.
An immense thank-you to everyone at McElderry Books/Simon & Schuster who worked on this book in any capacity and helped make my wildest dreams possible: Justin Chanda, Karen Wojtyla, Anne Zafian, Bridget Madsen, Elizabeth Blake-Linn, Chrissy Noh, Caitlin Sweeny, Alissa Nigro, Bezi Yohannes, Perla Gil, Remi Moon, Amelia Johnson, Ashley Mitchell, Yasleen Trinidad, Saleena Nival, Emily Ritter, Amy Lavigne, Lisa Moraleda, Nicole Russo, Nicole Valdez, Christina Pecorale and her sales team, Michelle Leo and her education/library team, freelance copy editor Jen Strada, and of course Ali Dougal and the rest of the UK team.
A big thank-you also to designer Greg Stadnyk and artist Signum Noir for wrapping Curious Tides in such a beautiful jacket, and to Francesca Baerald for creating the most gorgeous maps. And to J. T. Sisounthone and Cam Montgomery, whose authenticity reads provided such valuable insight—thank you for the work you do.
This book would not be what it is today without the brilliant minds of Kat Dunn and Sarah Underwood, who helped me shape it into a story I’m proud of. Thank you for choosing me to be your Pitch Wars mentee. I love and admire you both. And to all my fellow PitchWars 2021 alums: what an honor it was to have been part of the last class with you. I cannot wait to see us all on shelves one day—and maybe go for some celebratory waffles.