A necessity,Romie told Aspen and Tol and Orfeyi’s ghosts now, feeling the judgment of their gazes.
The words were becoming harder to believe, but she would keep saying them until they rang true once more, if only to absolve her part in Atheia’s sins.
32EMORY
TONIGHT WAS THE NIGHT THEEclipse-born took fate into their own hands.
Emory glanced at herself in the mirror once more, nerves bunching up in her stomach. She was dressed in shades of argent: high-waisted, steel-colored dress pants, a silky silver blouse, and a light gray blazer rummaged from the few garments of hers that her father had brought with him here in the hopes that she would return from her journey through worlds. She looked like any other student might, except for the way Nisha had done her hair, braided up in an elaborate crown atop her head, interspersed with the four lunar flowers and a golden sunflower—and the porcelain mask covering the top half of her face.
According to Javier and Louis, who’d been privy to the final details of this grand soirée, those in attendance would be wearing porcelain masks depicting the Tides, just like they had the night Emory was first introduced to the Selenic Order in the lighthouse. And so, to flip this practice on its head, those who showed up inprotest would storm Aldryn with masks of their own—masks that represented their solidarity with or belonging to House Eclipse. It was Nisha who’d had the idea.
Emory’s mask was a thing of beauty, made to stand out from the rest and pin her as the Tidecaller. It was a far cry from the cherub-faced mask representing Bruma, Tide of the New Moon, that she’d worn that night at the lighthouse last year. The porcelain of this mask was cracked down the middle, the delicate seam filled in with shining silver. The right half was painted white and turquoise to mimic frothing waves, which faded to the deep black of the left side of the mask, full of swirling shadows and stars.
Half lunar, half eclipse. The Tides and the Shadow living in her veins.
As she came downstairs, Emory was filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite name as dozens of Shadow masks stared back at her. They looked nothing like the actual Shadow who walked among them, but they were terrifyingly beautiful, primed to make an impact. Sculpted porcelain made to look like a skull crowned in the eclipse itself: a moon and sun carved over the face, the sun’s rays spiked and lethal, but also slightly rounded to look like a sunflower. The whole mask was painted gold, silver, and black to resemble an eclipse.
Everyone was dressed in dark, somber tones in contrast to Emory’s silver-inspired look. Paired with their terrifying masks, the effect was a bit ominous—which might seem counterproductive while wanting to prove a point that the Eclipse-born were nothing to fear, but they looked all the more resplendent for it.
Emory spotted Baz right away, his mask looking slightly less terrifying, what with his glasses worn awkwardly over it. He’d donned a charcoal dress shirt and a black cardigan, and was fiddling nervously with his crooked tie.
He spotted her and stilled, lips parting. “You look…,” he started, seemingly at a loss for words. “Wow.”
Emory fussed with a flower in her hair, feeling self-conscious with so many people watching. “You too.”
“The glasses are a nuisance,” Baz muttered. “And this damn tie—”
“Here.” Emory fixed it for him, fighting a smile. She met his eye, sudden worry curdling in her stomach. “Are you sure about this?”
“As sure as I can be.”
“One word from you, and we can—”
“Emory.” Baz trapped her wrists between his hands. “We’re in this together now.”
“I know.”
She felt that kinship between them soaring to new heights, especially as Baz’s eyes caught on her right hand and a sense of pride radiated from him. He held her hand between them, admiring the tattoo that graced the back of it.
It was new but not. Emory had talked to him about it, sharing how she wanted to mark herself as belonging to House Eclipse for good, but didn’t want to fully erase the fact that she’d started out as a Healer of House New Moon. So instead of getting the Eclipse sigil tattooed on her left hand or erasing the New Moon sigil that was on her right, she had combined the two. Behind the black disc crowned in a wreath of silver narcissus, there now was a golden sunflower. It looked almost exactly like the Eclipse sigil; though where the black disc on Baz’s hand was bare, hers was the silver narcissus–crowned new moon.
When she’d brought the idea to Baz, he’d sketched the blended sigils for her, and then she’d gotten someone with experience to tattoo the design on her. This turned out to be Jae, of all people, who smiled slyly at the shock on Baz’s face, mysteriously hinting at the dozens of tattoos they’d given themself over the years, all conveniently hidden beneath their clothes.
“It suits you,” Baz said to Emory now, giving her tattooed hand a squeeze before dropping it. “You’re where you belong.”
Her heart swelled to hear it. She’d fought back against her Eclipse identity so much at first. And now here she was, fully leaning in to the image of the Tidecaller, the picture of the Shadow reborn people believed her to be. The sense of belonging was overwhelming as she looked around at everyone here ready to put themselves on the line to fight for the Eclipse-born.
Only a few people would stay behind tonight: Louis, in case a Healer was needed once everyone returned; Alya; Baz’s mother; and Emory’s father. The rest of them had been divided into two groups. The first had already left, taken by Sidraeus to a spot near the Institute, where they would do a bit of reconnaissance. Their group consisted of Jae and Vera, who were both familiar with the place, as well as the Ilsker scholar, a few other Illusionists, the Poisoner, and the Festerer.
Everyone else, Eclipse-born and lunar mage alike, was going to Aldryn—even frail Professor Selandyn held her masked head high, a proud smile on her lips as if she’d been waiting for this day all her life.
“Remember you’re only there to observe,” Emory had reminded Vera before her cousin left with the first group. “Sidraeus will take us to you the second we’re done with the ritual, and that’s when we go in.”
Vera had made a mock salute. “Don’t go into the Institute without Shadow and Tidecaller backup. Got it.”
“You sound like Virgil. Don’t think I’ve forgotten aboutthat, by the way.”
“What?”
