He kissed her again, and all thoughts disappeared from her mind except this ache in her soul, this need to be closer to him. This was what she wanted too—someone bold and charismatic and passionate, someone who made her feel important, who excited every part of her.
Someone who wasn’t Baz, she thought.
It seemed to her they were the only two people in the world until a sound made them pull apart. A girl who was clearly very drunk stumbled into the room. With a start, Emory recognized her.
“Nel? What are you doing here?”
Penelope’s eyes were slow to focus on her, her movements sluggish as she lifted a bottle in the air. “Trying to have some fun, of course,” she hiccupped. She took a swig from the bottle and stumbled again.
Keiran reached her before she could fall, throwing Emory a concerned look. Something dark crawled along her senses. This wasn’t like Penelope—she never partied, her idea of a late night out consisting of books in a library.
“Nel, are you okay?”
A huff. “Oh, so now you care?”
“Of course I care. You’re my friend.”
“Where have you been, then? I tried to be there for you, and then Lia’s body washes up and you can’t be bothered to check in with me.”
Emory realized with a pang of guilt it was true. She’d been so obsessed with trying to get to the sleepscape, she’d completely ignored Penelope outside of class.
“Nel—”
“No.” Penelope pushed out of Keiran’s grip. “Just let me have some fun.”
Emory followed her into the common room, where the Kiss the Moon game was still going strong. William, the Dreamer from earlier, looped an arm over Penelope’s shoulders and said, “Over here, darling, we’re missing a Darkbearer.”
Keiran stopped William with a hand to his chest. “She’s clearly drunk.”
He scoffed. “Whatever.”
“I said she’s done.”
It was as if Keiran held the kind of power that Glamours did without being one; William let Penelope go with a bored look. She doubled over, retching on the floor, and Emory was at her side in a flash.
“I just want to forget,” Penelope sniffled. “This hole in my chest.”
Emory’s heart broke. “I know.”
“Her tongue was missing. It makes no sense.”
It became difficult to breathe. The truth of Lia’s death still wasn’t public knowledge; her family and close friends must have been let in on it after the autopsy. Emory cast a weary look around her. Everyone had turned away with disinterest, and Keiran was exchanging tense words with the Dreamer by the foyer. The only person close enough to hear—the only one who wouldn’t write this off as the senseless ramblings of a drunken girl—was Lizaveta. There was none of her usual hostility as she said, “Let’s get her back to her room.”
“No.” Penelope tried to shove both of them off. “I don’t want my roommate to see me like this.”
“Then we’ll go to my room,” Emory suggested. “Come on, Nel.”
Penelope let herself be carried back to the underclassman dorms, where she quickly fell asleep in Romie’s old bed. Emory begrudgingly thanked Lizaveta for her help.
“Guys like that always take things too far,” Lizaveta said with her arms crossed. “The fucking prick deserves to get punched in the face.”
Emory huffed in agreement, surprised to see Lizaveta’s vehemence directed at someone worthy of it, for once.
Lizaveta hovered by the door. “Are you going back to the party?”
“I’ll stay with her, make sure she’s all right. Could you let Keiran know?”
She couldn’t tell if it was jealousy that flashed in those icy eyes, or something else. There was a long pause before Lizaveta said, “He told us what you’re doing, trying to reach Romie in the sleepscape. That you went to the Nightmare Weaver for help. Did Keiran ever tell you about Farran? That he used to date Kai?”
The floor tilted, then righted itself beneath her. The Eclipse-born that Farran had dated—was Kai?
“Farran and I were always closer than the others,” Lizaveta continued without waiting for a reply. “I was the only one he trusted with this secret relationship of his. Do you know why he initially wanted to wake the Tides? He wanted to prove to us—to everyone—that the Shadow was never the Tides’ enemy. He wanted to bring them back so they’d tell us we’d gotten it all wrong, that the Eclipse-born were never stained by the Shadow’s sin, because he believed, like Kai had led him to believe, that the Tides and the Shadow were, in fact, allies. Friends. Lovers. That they left these shores together for the love they bore for each other.”
Lizaveta scowled at the idea. “Farran chased that dream all the way to Dovermere and died for it. And as much as I think this idealism of his is ridiculous, I just want him back.” She gave Emory a look dripping with contempt. “But I’m not willing to risk another Eclipse-born hurting me and my friends for the slim hope of seeing him again. So if you don’t think you’re strong enough to reach Romie in the sleepscape or wake the Tides, I think we’d all rather you give up now than pretend you can do this.” Lizaveta looked down her nose at her. “I wouldn’t want to be in the caves with you when you push yourself too far and Collapse. You Eclipse-born have robbed me and mine of enough happiness already.”
“I’m not backing down,” Emory said through gritted teeth. “I can do it. Wake the Tides. Keiran believes it, and so do the others. Why can’t you?”
Lizaveta searched her face for something. “I know how easy it is to fall under his spell, you know. We’re all a bit infatuated by him and his grand plans. He’s always been like that, has this way of making you feel like you alone hold the key to all the answers he seeks.” She pulled the door open. “But don’t confuse his interest in you with his obsession with power.”
Lizaveta left, but her words stayed with Emory, mixing with Keiran’s earlier comment that she wasn’t trying hard enough. All Emory wanted then was to prove to them both that she would find a way. That she could do this. Once she was sure Penelope was sound asleep, she gripped a vial of salt water and begged sleep to find her, too, thoughts of Not good enough following her into the sleepscape. She nearly cried with relief at the vial that remained in her hand, carried with her into dreaming. But it was a small victory, cut short too quickly as she activated the mark and called out for Romie with every particle of her being, and still no answer came.
In that impossible darkness, she thought she glimpsed a glittering hourglass down the starlit path. Lizaveta’s words rang all around her. I wouldn’t want to be in the caves with you when you push yourself too far and Collapse.
She knew then what she had to do.
28 BAZ
THE DAWN WAS UP BEFORE Baz was, and so, apparently, was Emory.
He nearly fumbled down the last few steps to the commons when he saw her pacing near the window. Emory stilled as she spotted him, gripping the strap of her satchel tight.
“Morning,” Baz mumbled awkwardly. He slid toward the coffee counter and busied himself with filling the filter. His heart thudded an uneven rhythm in his chest. He wished he could stop time, rewind it so that moment on the sofa last night never happened. Or maybe relive it so that more could happen.