Jasper's mother hated the idea of Choosing Tide for exactly seven minutes. Then she hated the name.

"You are telling me the school puts seven-year-olds in moving seawater to decide where they live next year."

Jasper held the mirror token closer. Her face filled the little silver surface.

"Shallow moving seawater," he said.

"That did not improve the sentence."

His father appeared behind her.

"They have staff?"

"Loads."

"Rails?"

"Not really. Platforms."

His mother closed her eyes.

"Of course there aren't rails."

Jasper smiled. The academy had scheduled family calls before Choosing Tide so parents could ask questions. Tidefall had learned, apparently, that sending a letter saying YOUR CHILD WILL ENTER THE CHOOSING TIDE NEXT THURSDAY generated more panic than information. His mother had the official booklet open beside her.

"It says the current is magically regulated."

"Yeah."

"And students can stop if distressed."

"Yeah."

"But can't choose their Order."

"No."

She looked at him.

"How do you feel about that?"

Jasper had prepared for questions about safety. Not that one.

"I don't know."

"Useful answer."

"Ava would disagree."

"Ava sounds exhausting."

"She is."

His mother smiled.

"And Harper?"

"Already decided she's Brannor even though she isn't allowed to decide."

"That sounds like Harper."

Jasper picked at the edge of the desk.

"What if we're split?"

His mother's expression softened. There it was. The actual problem. Not Water. Not old rituals. Three children who had spent a year sleeping in the same room and suddenly faced four platforms.

"Would you stop being friends?"

"No."

"Would you stop seeing each other?"

"No."

"Would you still find reasons to be where you're not supposed to be together?"

Jasper laughed.

"Probably."

"Then the Order can change where you sleep. It doesn't get to decide who matters to you."

He nodded. His father leaned closer to the mirror.

"Also, statistically, there are only four Orders."

"That is not how probability works," Jasper said.

"It sounded comforting in my head."

"You are banned from helping Ava."

The call ended with promises that both parents would attend the ceremony. Afterward Jasper found Harper sitting cross-legged on the corridor floor with three letters spread around her.

"Family?"

"Mum, Dad and my aunt."

"What do they think?"

"Mum says Brannor would suit me. Dad says not to decide before the Tide. My aunt says if I get Nocten I have to learn how to look mysterious."

Jasper sat beside her.

"Helpful."

"Extremely."

Harper folded the letters.

"They're coming."

"Mine too."

For a moment neither spoke.

"You scared?" Jasper asked.

"No."

He waited. Harper sighed.

"Yes. Not of the water."

"I know."

She nudged his shoulder.

"If you get Calyx, I'm still coming to annoy you."

"If you get Velmor, I'll hide your maps."

"If Ava gets Nocten, we're doomed."

"Why?"

"She'll know secrets professionally."

Ava's voice came from behind them.

"I can hear you."

They both jumped. Ava stood holding a letter from home. Harper pointed.

"See? Already Nocten."

Ava sat on Jasper's other side. Her letter was from both parents. She did not read it aloud. She only said, "They think I should let the ceremony happen before building twelve contingency plans." Harper looked delighted.

"Your parents know you."

"Unfortunately."

Ava folded the letter again.

"They are coming."

Three families. Three sets of people who had trusted Tidefall with children barely old enough to reach some of the shelves. The thought made the ceremony feel larger. Jasper had mostly imagined the three of them in the basin. He had forgotten the people watching.

"Do your parents know about... everything?" Ava asked.

Jasper knew what she meant.

"Enough. More after the storm."

"Mine know about the falls and the safety projects. Not every Sea thing."

Harper said, "Mine know I fell. Obviously."

"Did you tell them Water caught you?" Jasper asked.

She looked down the corridor.

"I said the swell changed."

Ava studied her.

"Why?"

Harper shrugged.

"Because I don't know how to tell them an ocean decided I shouldn't hit the water normally."

That was fair. Jasper said, "You don't have to explain it perfectly." Harper looked at him.

"That sounds suspiciously like Chronicle advice."

"I contain wisdom."

Ava made a face.

"Do not say that again."

They stayed on the corridor floor until a prefect told them corridors were not furniture. Then they moved exactly one metre into Room Fourteen and continued talking. Letters covered the Bag Bed. Home and Tidefall folded together. Jasper had spent the year learning that boarding school did not replace one with the other. He belonged to both. Choosing Tide would not replace that either. At least he hoped not.