Vera nodded toward the road. “Motorbike. You?”
“Illusioned myself a cab,” Jae said with a wink and a nonchalant shrug. As though such a feat was nothing to them.
But that kind of magic… It was incredible, even for such a powerful Illusionist as Jae. Baz knew it must have taken a toll on them. He watched them warily, imagining the worst, his mind full of silver veins and blasts of power and bone-chilling screams.
Jae caught his eye and said, “You go on ahead now before they come looking for us.”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll find my own way back.” At Baz’s hesitation, they added, “The fall equinox is coming up. We’ll meet then and go over all this together. Until then, stay out of trouble.”
A branch snapped in the near distance, making them all startle. Jae mouthed Go before retreating deeper into the woods. Vera pulled on Baz’s sleeve, and they hurried toward her motorcycle.
It was only as Cadence came into view that Baz broke down in silence, angry tears drying in the wind as if they never existed. He shut his eyes tight against the hurt, but it didn’t help. All he saw was Kai’s face burned into the backs of his eyelids, the fleeting hope Kai had lit up with at the prospect of escape, his grim determination as he decided against it.
A part of Baz regretted coming to see him at all. He should have stayed in the commons, kept to his books. Then he wouldn’t have to feel this sickening pain in his heart.
15 EMORY
THE DECRESCENS LIBRARY FELT ENTIRELY different at night—not the safe harbor Emory had come to know it as during her morning sessions with Baz, but this cavernous beast with mysterious things lurking in the shadows. Blood rushed to her ears as the current cohort of Selenics led her through the rare books collection on Dreamer magic, past the restricted Reaper aisles, and all the way to the far end of the empty, darkly lit library. They had all unmasked, yet somehow felt more mythical and unattainable to her than before.
None of them had said a word since the lighthouse.
Keiran stopped her before the narrow staircase Emory knew led into the Vault. The others were already descending, an eerily grim procession that had her stomach in knots.
She glared at him once they were alone. “You knew I was a Tidecaller.”
“I had my suspicions, yes.” He leaned against the archway, not a trace of remorse on his face. “When you saw me healing that bird and thought the Selenic Mark was what gave me such power.”
“You let me believe we were the same. Why? So I’d walk into whatever trap tonight was and reveal my magic? So you could claim me as this thing you wanted to add to your little Selenic collection of rarities?”
Keiran flinched slightly at that. “That was never my intention.”
“You had to have known the kind of hostility I’d be facing if I showed my hand like that. Artem was this close to bringing me into the Institute—”
“I wouldn’t have let him.” His eyes sparked fiercely in the semidarkness. “Trust me, you were never in any real danger.”
She scoffed, crossing her arms. “As if I could ever trust you now.”
Keiran pushed off the arch, taking a tentative step toward her. “I would never have put you in that position unless I was sure I could get the Council to side with you. They needed to see your magic to be convinced of what you might bring to the table. I needed to see it. And you performed brilliantly, Ainsleif.”
“And if I hadn’t, would you have let them take me to the Institute?”
“Of course not.”
Emory eyed him warily. “Why did you put yourself on the line for me like that? Artem was right to fear me. I don’t know anything about these powers except that they started after Dovermere. For all I know, I did something that night to make the others—” She bit back the words, shaking her head. “Yet you’re still willing to take me in. To trust me. Why?”
Keiran took another step closer. “Because I think we were meant to find each other, you and I. There’s a reason you went into those caves, a reason this magic chose to manifest in you that night, a reason our paths have kept crossing since. I’ve been trying for so long to unlock the secrets to wielding all lunar magics, and here you are, able to do just that.”
The intensity in his gaze left her breathless.
“That kind of power… It’s incredible.”
Emory shook her head. “It’s unnatural.”
“No.” Keiran closed the gap between them, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. She was too stunned to move as he gently tilted her chin up. “It makes you exceptional, Ainsleif.”
An involuntary shiver ran up her spine. It was such a different reaction to how Baz had acted when he found out. There was no fear in Keiran’s voice, no accusations. Just this undiluted awe and the warmth of his hand as it cupped her cheek.
It was exhilarating.
“I knew there was something about you the moment I found you on the beach, but I never dreamed it might be this,” he mused, letting his hand fall to his side. “I told you I know what it’s like to search for answers after losing someone to Dovermere. Your magic is the very answer I’ve been seeking.”
“How?” she asked, enraptured despite the warning bells in her mind.
The corner of his mouth lifted. He laced his fingers through hers and said, “You’ll see.”
Emory let him guide her down into the Vault. She’d never been before, and marveled at the towering shelves, the cascading water in the center. The Vault was empty, the others nowhere in sight. Keiran brought her to the S aisle, at the entrance of which a freestanding wrought-iron staircase sprouted from the stone floor and spiraled up to the high ceiling above. He ran a hand along the intricate motifs of frothy waves and lunar flowers woven in the metal. A spiral like the one they both bore was hidden among them. At his touch, the base of the stairs unfurled, stone grumbling to life in the Vault’s half-light. Beneath their feet, the staircase wound on, and on, and on. An odd, bluish light shone at the bottom.
Their steps echoed ominously as they climbed down. Damp cold seeped through Emory’s dress, making the fine hairs on her arms stand to attention. She wished she’d taken a jacket, wished Keiran would tell her what exactly she was walking into. The sound of water was deafening as they neared the bottom, where the stairs spilled into a large circular chamber carved into stone.
A cavern.
For a second, everything in Emory seized. She was back in Dovermere, in those algae-slick caves that would become a death trap once the tide rose, and that was the sound of the sea rushing in, ready to take her under—
But no. The water came from above, a continuation of the Fountain of Fate’s sacred waters that spilled into the heart of the Vault and into this chamber below. It pooled into a great basin in the middle, the sides of which were adorned with weathered carvings of the moon’s phases. Soft light shone from the bottom of the basin, making the water refract turquoise light on the walls around them. Sixteen chairs lined those walls, carved into the stone itself. A throne for each tidal alignment, she realized. The rest of the Selenics sat upon them, an echo of the Tidal Council from earlier, though much less formal. Indeed, Virgil was sprawled carelessly on his chair, legs draped over a throne arm, cheek resting on his hand in an almost bored way. He winked at Emory.