“My name is Emory Ainsleif. You might know me as one of the Aldryn College students who drowned in the Dovermere sea caves last fall. And you may have heard rumors that I am a Tidecaller. I’m here today to address these rumors.” She paused, swallowing past the dryness in her mouth. “I am indeed a Tidecaller—the Shadow reborn.”
The lie had her finding Sidraeus’s gaze, feeling her cheeks warm at the intensity of it. They didn’t want to incite more fear by stating outright that theactualShadow had returned—not when some of their own were still mistrusting of him. And so, for now, they would play into the narrative that the Regulators had already put in place: that as a Tidecaller, Emory was in a way the Shadow reborn.
“And while I did not drown at Dovermere,” she continued, “I did journey into the Deep to find a way to restore magic to what it once was.” Another twisting of the story. “Unlike what the Regulators would have you believe, neither I nor my fellow Eclipse-born are the cause of the problems our world is facing. AsTidecaller, I am the link between both sides, the bridge between lunar magic and Eclipse magic. And I’m here to tell you that it’s only by coming together that we can restore magic and fix our drowning world.
“Yes, I’m a Tidecaller, and my blood runs Eclipse. But I was born a Healer of House New Moon. My allegiance has always been to Bruma, and when I became a Tidecaller after experiencing a brush with death, that didn’t change. If anything, I grew closer to Bruma—to all four Tides—because suddenly I was of all four houses. Think of me as a mirror, reflecting the magics around me and making them my own. But I do notstealthat magic from lunar mages. The same cannot be said for those in power who steal magic from Eclipse-born.”
Emory paused, feeling anger build in her veins at the words on the page. The thought that Keiran had been the one to start this, the synthetic magics made from the blood of Eclipse-born. The thought thatshehad taken synths before, not knowing where they came from, how they were made. It was sickening to think his legacy lived on in such a gruesome way. She wanted to bring down everyone who partook in the making of synths.
“With the dwindling of lunar magic, synthetics are being sold to whoever can afford them. But these are not a solution. They areextortion, made by forcefully and illicitly taking the blood of Eclipse-born who are being held at Institutes. The silver blood of those who have Collapsed and were given the Unhallowed Seal. This is why Regulators want to keep Eclipse-born in their Institutes: to profit off our blood. This is why they criminalize Collapsing, why they tell cautionary tales about the Shadow’s curse. But here is the truth: the Shadow’s curse is not real. Those of us who’ve Collapsed haven’t fallen prey to some imaginary darkness. We are in control of our power. The curse is a lie invented by Tidelore cultists and Regulators to make you fear us—to justify thehatred thrown our way and make Eclipse magic the scapegoat for everything bad happening in the world.
“But Eclipse-born are not the problem. We don’t want to hurt anyone. We don’t want to sow more division. We simply want justice for our own, and for the world to be in balance again. So instead of blaming what’s happening onus—on our very existence—ask yourselves who exactly is profiting off this imbalance and who is suffering for it. Ask yourselves why professors and students from prominent colleges like Aldryn, Karunang, Ilsker, Sevstar, Awansi, and Fröns have disappeared after voicing their support for Eclipse-born. Ask yourselves why the Eclipse-born in your lives, be it neighbor, friend, family, acquaintance, have all been forced into the shadows, when the only other option they face is imprisonment. Ask yourselves which side of history you wish to be on: compassion or hate.”
Emory met Baz’s gaze as she prepared to utter the conclusion he’d been so adamant to write—words Clover had spoken once, he told her, that they would use again now, spoken by another Tidecaller, one who was a distant descendant of the Clover line. Another reclaiming of the words of a man the whole world had once idolized.
“All magic is born equal,” Emory read. “There is no lunar magic without Eclipse magic, no sea without a shore, no Tides without a Shadow. So let us stand together, united against the tyranny of those who would tell you otherwise. Stand with us, and let’s heal our world together.”
A weighted silence—and then Vera clicked a button, and static drowned everything out once more.
“Right,” Virgil exclaimed, clapping his hands. “Enough doom and gloom and serious speeches for the night. I think this deserves a bit of celebrating, yes?”
Jae smiled. “There’s a few jars of moonbrew down in the kitchen cellars.”
Virgil’s eyes went wide. “Tides and Shadow bless you, Jae Ahn.” He looked at Sidraeus still hovering by the window. “What do you say, Sid?” The nickname earned him a murderous glare. “Sidraeus,” Virgil rectified with a nervous chuckle. “Your shadowy divineness?”
A muscle feathered in Sidraeus’s jaw, almost as if he wanted to laugh at the ridiculous form of address. But his mouth kept that disdainful curl as he turned back to the window, muttering something about mortals under his breath.
“Come on, cheery,” Vera said to an affronted-looking Virgil, leading him away as he moaned about no one ever turning him down for a drink before.
As others started filing out of the room, giving Emory encouraging nods and smiles, Jae clasped her shoulder gently. “You did good.”
“We all did,” Emory said, feeling a sense of belonging and pride flutter inside her.
All they could hope for now was that their message had been heard loud and wide—and that, like a small ripple forming in the sea, it would grow into a powerful, undeniable wave.
27ROMIE
THE INSTITUTE WAS A FARcry from the dank dungeons Atheia remembered from her day, where criminals of all stripes had been left to rot in the cold and the dark. But the essence remained the same.
There was a peculiar energy to the place, especially when blood was drawn from an Eclipse-born. The lights flickered in and out, as if shying from the surge of unlimited power contained in that silvery substance. Liquid magic. Thewrongkind of magic, until it was mixed with the blood of a lunar mage to create a synthetic version of whatever tidal alignment they were born with. A synthetic that could then be used by anyone to wield such magic.
It wasn’t exactly the eradication of Eclipse magic that Atheia had first envisioned, but it was ultimately what was happening here. Draining Eclipse-born of every morsel of power contained in their blood to give back to those who were always meant to carry magic in this world.
Atheia had been coming to the Institute for the last couple ofdays now, watching how the synthetics were made, taking inventory of all the Eclipse-born who were contained here, encouraging Regulators to round up more and more Eclipse-born and force their Collapsing upon them in order to access their silver blood.
The Tidal Council was a near permanent presence at the Institute, overseeing all of this. Even the two boys, Louis and Javier, spent most of their time here instead of at the college, being groomed to take leadership roles within the Order once they graduated. Javier, she learned, was a legacy who bore the name of one of the Order’s founding members, though none of his Belesa relatives who’d been Selenics before him were alive today to see him carry that legacy. Louis, on the other hand, had no familial ties to the Order whatsoever.
Atheia was intrigued by them. According to Romie, the other Order member who should have been with them was Ife Nuru, yet the girl had abandoned the other Selenics to side with the Eclipse-born, just like Virgil and Nisha had sided with Emory. It was odd, then, that these two boys had remained. Was it loyalty to the Order that kept them here, or something else?
When Atheia looked into their minds, no memory raised suspicions. And yet there was something there that caught her attention. She’d been showering them with attention ever since, interested to know everything there was about them and their time spent with Emory. With Keiran, too, this boy who had led the Order’s quest to wake the Tides.
Atheia would have very much liked to meet him.
She stood with Louis, Javier, and the Tidal Council in the clinical room where Eclipse-born had their silver blood taken. Two Regulators brought in a woman who was fighting with everything she had, screaming at the top of her lungs in another language. They managed to strap her to the gurney, but the young woman did not stop fighting even then.
Atheia’s heart nearly dropped at the sight of her. She looked so much like someone she had known. Jet-black hair, narrow dark eyes… and two distinct beauty marks on her cheek, one pale and smooth, the other dark and raised, overlapping the edge of the first one. Like a moon creeping over the sun to eclipse it.
The resemblance was almost uncanny, and yet the differences were there the more Atheia looked. This was not the same woman. Of course it wasn’t, because the person Atheia was thinking of was long since dead.
