Kai nearly stumbled on the last step. He’d never heard of such an Eclipse alignment before—it was like a grim play on Memorist magic.
Polina caught sight of him and gave him an awkward wave. “Hello. Sorry if we woke you.”
Kai’s gaze slid right past her to another Eclipse-born, who had his head buried in a book. He recognized him immediately. “So you’re the asshole who shoved me out of the sleepscape.”
Baz choked on his coffee, giving Kai a reproachful look. Kai didn’t care about the lack of manners. Neither did the other Nightmare Weaver, apparently, whose mouth lifted in a sheepish grin.
“Sorry about that.” He took his half-moon glasses off—they hung from a chain around his neck—and peered at Kai. “You gave me quite the fright last night. I’ve never encountered another Fear Eater before.”
Fear Eater?The name struck something familiar in Kai. He vaguely remembered reading about the history of magical terminology, how some Eclipse alignment names had changed over time, given their rarity. “I prefer Nightmare Weaver myself,” he said. “And you’re the first I’ve encountered too.”
“Nightmare Weaver. I like that.” The boy put out his hand. “I’m Thameson Caine, though I go by Thames.”
Caine.
Like Farran.
Kai felt Baz’s eyes on him. It was too early to deal with such strangeness. He shook Thames’s hand, ignoring the million questions burning on his tongue. “Kai Salonga.”
“We were just about to head out to the Eclipse salon I was tellingyou about,” Polina said as she slipped off the counter and grabbed what looked like a pastry.
“We promise it’s not as boring as it sounds.” Thames slid his glasses back on. “And we’d love to hear from a Luaguan’s perspective, I’m sure.”
As they followed Thames and Polina out of the commons, Baz sidled up to Kai and whispered, “You okay?”
Kai tore his gaze from the back of Thames’s head. “Yeah. I just can’t believe there’s another Nightmare Weaver.” And that he was the ancestor of a boy Kai had once thought he loved.
“What was that about him shoving you out of the sleepscape?”
“I’ll tell you later.” Kai gave Baz a sidelong look.
“What?” Baz fussed over his appearance. “Did I spill coffee on myself?”
Kai smirked at his distress. “You managed to get the tie right this time.”
Baz touched the ascot around his neck, cheeks burning as if the memory of Kai doing it up for him last night made him nervous. “Yeah, well, we need to blend in, right? Maybe this salon will give me some insight on past Timespinners.”
“Let’s hope so.”
28BAZ
THE SALON HAD ALREADY STARTEDby the time they arrived. Cordie spotted them at the door. She motioned for them to come stand beside her. Everyone around them was listening enraptured to a student speaking with such conviction and poise, it was no wonder there were so many people here.
The student presently had his back turned to them. He stood in the middle of the room, with the gathered crowd forming a circle around him. His shoulder-length hair was perfectly coiffed, and his clothes seemed finer than what the typical student wore, with an added flair that made him look ahead of his time.
“All magic is born equal,” the student was saying. “Every facet of this system that governs us is part of a larger equation, and to disregard a single one of those facets is to let the whole system fall apart. There is no moon without a sun. No seas without shores. No dreams without nightmares. No Tides without their Shadow counterpart. No successful party without an Illusionist there to give us all the best—if not chaotic—night of our lives.”
Laughter erupted from the crowd at whatever inside joke this was. The student slowly spun around to look at everyone, his voice growing serious again as he said, “There is no lunar magic without Eclipse magic, and to think otherwise is not only folly; it puts usallin danger.”
He turned around fully then, giving Baz a good look. If everyone around them was mortal, then he must be a god. His features were delicate and fine, blond hair curling around his chiseled jawline, and his eyes were a striking shade of blue-green. They were like sea-foam, like turquoise waves spilling on white sand, or the cloudy hues of sea glass.
And they were staring right at Baz.
Recognition struck, and Baz nearly gasped at the impossibility of it.
Because here was a man he never thought he would ever get to meet. A face he’d seen only in paintings and books and his own imagination. A name he’d seen printed on the cover of his favorite book time and time again.
Standing before him was his literary idol, the brilliant mind behindSong of the Drowned Gods.
