The god burst out laughing. “In a way, I suppose it was. We gods have had our time at the helm of our realms. But control over the worlds should belong to those who live in them, and no god should ever have the power to obliterate them on a whim. I’ve always agreed with Atheia and Sidraeus about that. Now that fate lies in mortal hands, we gods are… well, if not obsolete, then certainly not as needed as we might once have thought ourselves.”
Baz lifted a brow. “And your fellow gods agree with that?”
“They want to see their worlds thrive. You might not see that, might not agree with how they’ve shown it in the past, but believe me, they do care, in their own way, about what happens next. We’ve had long talks about it since the restoration of magic. And on this matter, we are all in agreement.”
Equilibris laid a hand on Baz’s shoulder, peering into his eyes. “It’s up to each world to control the narrative now. It’s up to the people to write their own stories, not gods, not fate.” His other hand rested on Baz’s chest. “You have the power to change things for the better. Don’t waste it.”
Before Baz could reply, he was suddenly back in the elevator shaft, the grate opening as it reached the bottom. With a start, he realized a weight was missing from his neck; the time-traveling pocket watch that had hung there was gone. The god must have swept it from him. Maybe it was for the best.
Baz took a lurching, disorienting step into Obscura Hall, which had been illusioned once more to take on a scenery from the most senior student’s memories. He ached at seeing the familiar tall grass sloping toward the sea. He could almost imagine he was back at the safe house, that somewhere just past the swaying grass sat Emory, watching the horizon.
But it was only an illusion, like everything else. A falsity.Because underneath it, Baz knew the corridor must still bear the destruction it had suffered when the worlds were laid on top of one another, and when the Regulators had ransacked the commons.
He parted the willow tree’s mane and stepped into the commons, where Kai stood next to the torn down wall that overlooked the cove below. Everything was still a mess, the blasted ceiling open to the sky above, barely anything usable in the rubble. Dusk emerged from somewhere and perched on a pile of debris, staring at Baz with those keen cat eyes of his.
You have the power to change things for the better. Don’t waste it.
Baz remembered a time when he had never wanted to make waves. He had thought the world was as it was, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was done being so complacent. Done thinking he didn’t have the power for change. Change was collective. Change would be slow. But he was ready to fight every step of the way, without a care for his own comfort or need for peace.
The old Baz wouldn’t have wanted to let anything disturb the calm he felt in solitude and in books, wouldn’t have wanted the real world and all its problems to affect him. But he had experienced true chaos. Had held it in his very hands. And he’d seen evil succumb to change. To good.
He hoped those who still had evil in their hearts could change too.
Kai kicked forlornly at a broken piece of furniture, catching Baz’s eye. This home of theirs was unrecognizable, destroyed almost beyond repair.
“It’ll take forever to rebuild,” Kai said, dejected. “And I don’t think it’ll ever be the same.”
Baz had the same thought. It wasn’t just about the physical destruction, which Baz could easily turn back time to undo. It wasthe memories that lingered like a stain, sullying their haven in an irrevocable way.
Could they still call this a home, feel a sense of belonging here, after everything that happened?
He thought of everything they had shared here. It was the place where their friendship had begun. Where it had evolved into something more. They had been interrupted again and again in their progression—Kai being sent to the Institute, the two of them going back in time, getting separated not once but twice by forces both divine and monstrous.
Now they finally had the chance to rebuild Aldryn into what they wanted it to be. They could make it into a safe place for Eclipse-born in a way it never fully was before. Baz could take up Professor Selandyn’s mantel and become a professor like he’d always intended. Kai could resume his studies, help Jae Ahn teach Eclipse-born how to control their now stronger powers—something Baz had heard them both talking about already, full of excitement and hope at the prospect.
Baz and Kai were here, in this place that had always been theirs, and their whole life unfurled in front of them. And they’d get to do it all together.
Baz took Kai’s hand in his, kissing his knuckles. He smiled at him, feeling hope take root inside him for the first time since the sea of ash.
“We’ve got time,” he said.
A promise, a vow.
After all, he was the Timespinner. And time ran in his favor.
72ROMIE
THE LIGHTHOUSE CAME INTO VIEWon a cloudless afternoon.
It was Nisha, standing at the bow of their sailboat, who saw it first. She turned back to Romie to shout an enthusiastic “Look!”, her face splitting into a smile so brilliant, it was all Romie wanted to look at. Hard not to, when Nisha appeared so at home on the water. The sea air suited her, with the color on her cheeks deepened by the sun, her long hair tied back with a bright kerchief, loose strands dancing in the wind. Eyes like amber reflecting all the light around her.
Romie craned her neck from where she sat at the stern steering the ship. The sight of the coastline made her heart swell and ache in equal measure. The late summer saw harebells in full bloom, a veritable sea of purple wildflowers growing in the shade of the jack pines and spruce trees that hugged the cove. And towering over it all, weathered yet firm, was the Ainsleif lighthouse.
Six figures spilled onto the smooth gray rocks of the shore towave their hands in greeting, and though they were too far still to make out their faces, Romie would recognize her brother’s gawky frame anywhere.
Romie laughed, excitement pulling her like a taut string toward the coast. She was home at last, after months of traveling with Nisha. They’d been wandering aimlessly together, sailing wherever they felt like it—to Trevel, the Constellation Isles, anywhere that was far from Aldryn and the Institute, these places riddled with bad memories for them both.
Returning to Elegy now, they found those memories didn’t seem as dark or as daunting. As if they had left them behind somewhere in the Aldersea.
