Chapter XV. Ellery
XV
ELLERY
WINTER
Julian’s chest barely moved below the blankets on his hospital bed, and the fine golden mist of a healing spell hovered around him.
But Valmordion’s wounds were not easily healed.
Bandages swathed half of his face, his shoulder, and his wand hand.
Ellery hated seeing him like this, so still, as though his sharp focus had been dulled.
Gaudy flower arrangements and stuffed animals crowded the room, enchanted to change color or spout a jingle when pressed. Condolence cards from classmates and his parents’ colleagues cluttered the nightstand. Ellery frowned at one in particular.
Better luck next time, it read, which seemed a grotesque misinterpretation of the situation.
“I told the nurses to toss all the roses,” she whispered to Julian, her bandaged hand clutching his own. “What’s that ridiculous thing you used to say? ‘Why would you ever hold a flower that could hurt you?’”
Their argument at the vigil was a fresh bruise.
Ellery had kept secrets and dodged questions for so long, hoping her suspicions of her Winter magic were mere paranoia.
But instead they’d been confirmed in the worst way possible.
And now that Ellery desperately wished to tell Julian the truth, the Council had forbidden it.
Although they’d deemed her to be no true threat without Iskarius, they’d released her last night with severe restrictions: she was not to leave the Citadel, she was not to use magic, she was not to breathe a word of the previous night.
She couldn’t even visit her injured friend without a magician standing guard in the hall.
Ellery was a prisoner in the only place that had ever felt like home.
After wounding three Council members, she deserved to be.
Glynn must’ve thought so too, otherwise he would’ve come to see her, would’ve been there when the rest of the Council—
A radio crackled on the nightstand.
“—no reported casualties, minimal damage to property. It seems Barrow pulled off a win after all.”
“I’ll admit I had my doubts,” said Floyd Wilder. “But hey, Valmordion doesn’t Choose wrong. I said that, didn’t I?”
The door creaked open. Demelza set down her own flower bouquet and rushed to wrap Ellery in a hug. Ellery hugged her back uncomfortably, aware that Demelza was trembling.
“Where have you been?” the other girl asked, drawing away. To the untrained eye, Demelza looked polished and peppy. But Ellery knew the defensive power of a full face of makeup.
“I’ve been in my room,” Ellery answered carefully. “After last night, I didn’t want to see anyone.”
Demelza grimaced. “It was horrible, wasn’t it? Apparently, Julian’s parents will be here in a few hours.”
Ellery knew Julian’s doting parents from their regular visits. His mother was sure to find flaws with his doctors’ care regimen. His father was sure to find loopholes in the academy’s safety policies.
“They’re taking him home as soon as he’s cleared for such a long journey,” Demelza continued.
Normally the flight to Julian’s hometown would take no more than an hour, but all airports had been shut down for Winter due to the threat of scurges.
His parents would have to take a train instead. “I heard they’re even suing the Order.”
“What? They’re pulling him out of the academy?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
Ellery stared at the half of Julian’s face that wasn’t bandaged, aghast. She couldn’t picture life at the academy without him, the surprising loudness of his laugh or his insistence that he knew every shortcut on campus or the way he paid attention to the credits of every movie, stubbornly shushing his friends when they dared to talk through them.
“He’ll come back,” she insisted. “He wants this too badly.”
“If you say so.” Demelza studied Julian’s prone form dubiously.
“Between a cataclysm coming and now the vigil, everyone’s totally shaken up.
A few students have left. I mean, there was a category five scurge on the very first night of Winter!
My parents called me last night after the news broke.
They begged me to drop out, come home. They don’t want me fighting ghasts on the front lines. ”
“Are you going to listen to them?”
“No, I’m not.” Her expression hardened. “When I decided to study magic, my parents assumed it was more out of curiosity than anything else. And I’ve heard the rumors—that I’m some shallow starlet, here on a lark.
But magic isn’t a game to me. It’s the realest thing I’ve ever known.
I won’t pretend that Winter doesn’t freak me out, but I know magic is the only way to stop it.
So I’m going to use my magic to change things.
To help people. And considering Domenic Barrow is our fated Chosen One, Alderland needs all the help it can get. ”
Ellery bristled. “He stopped that category five winterscurge, didn’t he?”
“Sure. But you have to admit, he was an unconventional Choice.”
Judging solely by Barrow’s reputation, that was true. But nothing about the boy who’d fought beside her in Mercester Square resembled the apathetic person she’d thought he was.
And Ellery knew more than most how much a reputation could hide.
“He was Valmordion’s Choice,” Ellery countered. “Isn’t that all that matters?”
“Huh.” Demelza studied her. “There really is something going on with you two, isn’t there?”
Ellery tensed. Her eyes flickered toward Julian, still unconscious. “Seriously? This again?”
“So you’re telling me you weren’t with him last night?”
“Of course I wasn’t—”
“Oh, come on, Ellery. Barrow might be the talk of the country right now, but the entire academy’s talking about you, too. People saw you both escorted out of the grove right after he bonded with Valmordion.”
Ellery’s heart thrummed and she tried to keep her expression still, all too aware of the magician lurking outside.
“I’m not saying you’re together,” Demelza continued exasperatedly. “I’m saying you’re involved in the prophecy, somehow. Or are you telling me the magician in the hall isn’t guarding the door, like the Prime Minister’s inside?”
“I’m not … whatever you think I am,” Ellery said helplessly.
Demelza arched a perfectly manicured brow. “Sure you’re not. You saved Julian’s life, you know.”
“I’m pretty sure the healers did that.”
“I saw it. You put out Valmordion’s flames with a training wand. That’s unbelievable!”
Ellery winced.
“Clearly you can’t get into it, or maybe you just won’t,” Demelza went on. She smiled cautiously at Ellery, with a sort of sweet, tentative trust. “But knowing you’re part of this, even if I don’t know how yet—it makes me feel a little better about what’s coming.”
Ellery couldn’t return her smile. If Demelza knew the truth, she would fear her. And if she’d actually had the chance to tell Julian, he’d probably fear her, too.
Back in her dorm room, Ellery shucked off her uniform blazer and rolled up her sleeves. Despite the Wintery chill, she was too warm.
Branches rapped against her window like knucklebones. She jolted at the sound, then dismissed it.
It happened again, louder.
Ellery approached the glass slowly. In the courtyard below stood a lanky figure, leaning against a leafless tree.
Ellery gasped and yanked up her window. “Barrow?”
The presumed savior of Alderland slackened with relief. “I was starting to worry they had you locked in a dungeon somewhere.”
Surely Barrow had more important things to do than knock on Ellery’s window, as though she were some storybook princess in a tower.
Then he added, “If you’re worried about your guard overhearing us, don’t.
I’ve cast a privacy enchantment over the two of us.
Chosen One perks.” Barrow patted the sheath that jutted from his coat pocket—alban wood white.
Ellery glanced at a pair of students passing by the trails, oblivious to the most famous person in the country making a scene only yards away. “So are you gonna let me in?”
“Um … sure,” she said weakly. “Come in. Or up, I guess.”
He hoisted himself up the tree. At each foothold he left behind, buds sprouted from the bare Winter branches—small but vibrantly green. With surprising ease, he reached the top and ducked beneath her window frame.
“That was fast,” Ellery muttered as he straightened, dusting bits of bark off his hands.
“Yeah, well, believe it or not,” he said sheepishly, “I’ve done this before.”
Ellery flushed self-consciously as he examined her bedroom decor—paying particular attention to the posters of Kent Sinclair, her favorite movie star. “And here I was thinking all those rumors about you were exaggerated.”
She only spoke lightly because she didn’t know what to say.
Dark bags sank beneath Barrow’s bloodshot eyes, and he locked his shoulders tight, like he might jolt into action at the single tick of a clock or creak of a door.
Yet beyond his exhaustion, there was something different about him she struggled to identify.
He seemed to stand taller, but he was already so tall it was hard to say.
There was the way the light caught him, winking along his silhouette.
Ellery’s gaze fell upon Valmordion’s sheath, decorated with a rim of solid gold. A memory flashed through her mind of Julian burning, screaming, that oppressive, terrible heat. She shuddered and looked away.
“I appreciate you paying a visit to my tower and all,” she said awkwardly. “But shouldn’t you still be in Oldermere?”
“My train got in an hour ago. The Council decided I’d earned myself a chance to sleep.”
“So the Council doesn’t know you’re here.”
“No, they don’t.” He fiddled with something in his pocket. “After the scurge, I was up all night, thinking. The Council told me what happened yesterday in Glynn’s office, with your wand. But they’re wrong about you. I know for a fact that your prophecy piece is real.”
Ellery gaped. “What? How could you possibly know that?”