She wanted to apologize for her part in his torture. For this bargain she’d made against his will.
“You can’t carry this guilt forever,” she found herself saying, thinking of what he’d told her not so long ago, about her own guilt over Keiran’s death.The longer you let it weigh on you, the harder it will be to set it down.
Sidraeus huffed a cold laugh. “But I have to carry it, don’t I? Their memory is carved on my skin. And what Atheia did… the person she chose to do it to, the similarities between her and—” He clamped his mouth shut, as if realizing he’d said too much.
“Who?”
Sidraeus looked away from her, his gaze settling deeper into the alley, as if he could see someone else there, a memory taking shape. “Her name was Tala,” he said, a wistful note in his tone. “She was one of the first Tidecallers, a pioneer of the Veiled Atlas. Luaguan, just like that woman, with such similar beauty marks on her cheek. Tala was like what I imagine a sister to be, like family, faithful and kind and… and my actions led to her sacrifice all the same, just like it did the rest of the Tidecallers whose deaths are on me.”
The full weight of the bargain she’d made hit Emory like a brick. To never be able to forget this… was she any better than Atheia, who had used this to draw up Sidraeus’s suffering? A twist of the knife to inflict such pain on a person Atheia knew would remind Sidraeus of someone he had cared about. Someone whose death had probably tormented him all these centuries.
“So you see,” Sidraeus said, “you’re not the only one haunted by the ghosts of your past.”
His gaze fell to her throat, as if he could picture Keiran’s ghost wrapping his fingers around it. As if he remembered doing the same to her when he was in Keiran’s body, and again in his umbra form. Was that regret in the depths of his eyes? There was a rawness to his features that made him look younger, sitting here in a dark alley. Not a god, but a boy tortured by the thousand things he might have done differently if he’d known where his choices would lead. Someone who, against all odds, wanted to right the wrongs of the past, even if that meant diving deeper into his darkness and resorting to murderous revenge.
Emory felt exposed, like she was staring into a mirror that reflected all the ugliest parts of herself, and yet she couldn’t turn away from him. She slid down the wall opposite him so that they were eye level again. “The sacrifice you felt you had to make at the time,” she said, “I see now that you chose what you thought was the lesser of two evils. And if I, a Tidecaller, can see that… then you need to forgive yourself already.”
When Sidraeus spoke, his voice was softer than she’d ever heard it. “You speak of forgiveness, yet you still carry the weight of your own guilt.”
Emory swallowed hard, tearing her gaze from him. It was too much, to be seen the way he saw her. Funny how it had been all she’d wanted once. But that had been a softer Emory, an Emory who wasn’t a killer, who didn’t have a closet full of demons and ghosts. This Emory, the girl she was now… There was such darkness inside her, she was scared anyone who saw it would turn away. Like Romie had at one point.
But Sidraeus didn’t turn away.
“I told you, we’re more alike than you think,” he said in a low murmur. “And if I am worthy of your forgiveness, then you are worthy of mine.”
His words eased something in her chest. It was as if she could finally breathe. She’d already decided that she had the power to forgive herself for what she’d done, but to hear it from someone who saw all of her, darkness and all, and accepted it all the same—not only accepted it, but offered to share it…
“Forgiven, then,” Emory breathed.
“Forgiven,” he agreed.
Whatever tentative truce they had come to before seemed to shift into something bigger now. An understanding. A sense that they could finally trust each other—that they were in this together.
Somewhere close was Atheia, either still at the Institute or backat Aldryn. For a second, Emory could imagine Sidraeus bringing them there with his traveling magic. Demanding retribution for what had been done to the Eclipse-born.
But they would do this the right way. And for the first time, she trusted that Sidraeus would agree.
Emory got back on her feet and extended a hand to him. “Come on then, Sid. Let’s go plan our revenge.”
He narrowed his eyes at the nickname Virgil had used for him. But his annoyance felt false, betrayed by the barest tug of his lips. He didn’t correct her, either, as he grabbed her hand and dragged himself up.
They stood a hairsbreadth apart, the air between them charged with something new and terrifying and profound. He didn’t let go of her hand, didn’t put distance between them, only held her gaze as stars sped past them, until they were standing on the beach once more.
There were more people now gathered outside the wards, most of them too absorbed by an unfolding disagreement to notice Emory and Sidraeus had returned. Jae and the Ilsker scholar were at the center of a shouting match, the latter threatening to march on the Institute right this moment, to hell with the risk.
Sidraeus pulled away from Emory to crouch over Professor Sao’s body like a somber vigil, whispering words too quiet for anyone to hear. Emory’s heart lurched at the sight. Her hand was still warm from Sidraeus’s grip, her New Moon sigil stark against her skin. A reminder of where she’d started and what she’d done since.
There was no erasing who they were, as she and Sidraeus had concluded. But maybe they could choose who they wanted to become going forward.
And Emory didn’t want to be someone who kept acting out of a place of fear and desperation.
She stomped over to the Ilsker scholar, ignoring the looks thrownher way. “If you’re serious about breaking into the Institute, then I might have an idea.”
“Anything to avoid more of this.” There was no hesitation in his voice, only pain as he pointed to Professor Sao. “She didn’t deserve this. And we can’t leave our own behind to suffer the same horrors.”
“I agree.” Emory met the eye of everyone gathered on the beach. “What the Tides did… this wasn’t just a message to the Shadow, but to all of us. They want to scare us away from stepping into the light. Let’s not let them.”
“What do you suggest we do?”
