Chapter XV. Ellery #2
“Because I…” Barrow’s throat bobbed, and without warning, he sprang into a frantic flurry of action.
He yanked a throw blanket off her bed and draped it atop her desk chair, then spun it around.
Next, to her utter bewilderment, he dragged over her waste bin.
“Here. Why don’t you sit? You want some water? I can conjure some—”
“Stop,” Ellery said fiercely. She stayed standing. “Just tell me. Why are you so convinced my prophecy piece is real?”
He exhaled shakily. “Because I fulfilled it. And now I have another.”
That couldn’t be right. Ellery reached for an alban pit that was no longer there. She clenched her empty hand into a fist, quaking.
From that point onward, Barrow didn’t look at her. He paced, recounting his last eighteen hours in grim, occasionally humiliating detail—right down to the need for a wastebin.
“I-I’m sorry, Caldwell. I know this is a lot.
And I know you didn’t want this. I sure as hell didn’t want this either.
A day ago, I thought I was the last person who should ever be wielding Valmordion.
And now I … I don’t know. Maybe that isn’t true.
But I still feel like I’m losing my fucking mind.
” He raked a hand through his already disheveled hair.
“The point is, your prophecy piece—‘power that will rise from your own ruin.’ During the scurge, there was a moment when I-I really thought I was going to burn. Just like Rhodes. But I didn’t.
I pushed through. I defeated it. And I heard a prophecy piece for the first time.
And it didn’t take that long to hear one because I’m a mistake, it took that long because I was supposed to fulfill yours.
So don’t you see? This is what the original prophecy means, that ‘an ancient peace must be restored.’ It’s Summer and Winter.
It’s you and me. We’re both Chosen Ones, and we’re in this together. ”
For however compelling his argument, however fervent his tone, Ellery struggled to absorb the full weight of his words.
“You’re wrong,” she murmured. “The cataclysm is always Winter. I wield Winter magic. I lost control and I hurt people. How could I possibly be a Chosen One?”
“When I ran from the vigil, I thought I was about to lose control, too.” Barrow regarded her gently.
“Think about it. How many people have you already saved from Winter? In Mercester Square? In Nordmere? It seems to me like if anyone would be Chosen to save Alderland and reclaim the fallen territory, it’d be you. ”
Ellery cringed at the mention of Nordmere. “It’s not that simple.”
“Then explain it to me. Because I don’t see it. I don’t see how someone as heroic as you could ever—”
“Because I knew I had Winter magic!” Ellery shouted, making Barrow stiffen.
“I knew the whole time, okay? I convinced myself it was all in my head, and I made myself believe it, because I wanted so desperately to believe it. Because Winter is Alderland’s greatest enemy.
Your greatest enemy. I’ve worried about this my whole childhood, my whole life… ”
Ellery stepped away from Barrow, trembling. She stared at her bandaged hand, remembering how it had felt to hold Iskarius. So inevitable. So right.
“I think some part of me has always understood I was destined for Winter. Destined for Iskarius. I just can’t hide from it anymore.
I know I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, but the Council is still right to be afraid of me.
So I’m sorry, but…” She blinked back tears. “I can’t be whoever you want me to be.”
Barrow blanched. “Do you mean that?”
“Of course I do. I’m not—”
“No, about destiny. You always knew you were a Chosen One?”
Ellery paused. “You didn’t?”
Barrow’s hand hovered above Valmordion. He swallowed. “I’m still not sure I’m the destiny sort.”
It was unusual for anyone in Alderland not to believe in destiny, let alone a Chosen One.
“If you’re not sure about fate, how can you be so sure about me?” When he didn’t answer, she pressed, “Seriously. You lie to the whole Council. You sneak in here. You spill confidential information. Why?”
“Because…” Barrow dragged a hand down his face. “I guess I thought, maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have to do this alone.”
Ellery hesitated, feeling a strange mixture of agitation and guilt.
He choked out a laugh. “Let me guess. You think I’m a coward.”
“No, I don’t. If anything, what you’ve done is brave. Maybe a little deranged, but brave. I just need a moment to think. Like you said, this is a lot.”
Barrow nodded vigorously. He was slightly pink.
Ellery chewed her lip as she considered his theories. Her own doubts aside, it was hard to focus with him watching her. Despite everything she’d told him, she could find no trace of fear or revulsion in his expression.
This close, his freckles accentuated the honey brown of his irises.
“You said you got a new prophecy piece in Oldermere,” she spoke at last. “What was it?”
“‘What long laid buried lies only in wait,’” he recited. “‘Silent land in need of resurrection.’”
It perfectly matched the prophecy piece Ellery herself had received, in rhythm, in tone. She parsed through the riddle of the words. Resurrection implied death. And there was only one piece of land she could think of that was gone, that was silent.
“It’s the Barren,” she breathed, remembering what Glynn had shown her: that blank space on the map of Gallamere, the site of the dead alban tree.
“The what?”
“It must be. And I know exactly where we need to go. It’s right at the edge of the city.”
Barrow sucked in a breath and withdrew from his pocket, oddly, a dandelion. No matter how much he worried the stem, it never wilted, and its petals never drooped.
“What are you suggesting?” he asked carefully.
“That the Council won’t believe any of this.
Not without proof. So maybe we should try to find some.
If we’re supposed to fulfill each other’s prophecy pieces, then I would get one next, yeah?
And that would mean that I, that we…” Ellery couldn’t bring herself to say it, to dare to hope.
She continued hastily, “If there’s any chance at all you’re right, we owe it to Alderland to give this everything we’ve got. ”
Barrow’s chest swelled, and Ellery swore that the rays of sunlight streaming through her window brightened. “I agree with you.”
“Okay then.” Ellery exhaled. “If you snuck in, you can definitely sneak me out. But we’ve got a problem. The Council told me they were going to d-destroy Iskarius.”
Her voice quavered on the last words. No matter how terrible the wand was, it was still hers.
He snorted. “Oh, I know. They’ve been trying, but I found out when I got back that they haven’t even managed to scratch it. And I know where they’re keeping it.”
Relief flooded through her. “Then how long do you think we’ve got before anyone notices you’re gone?”
“Hmm … I’m supposed to meet with the Council this afternoon.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “So what do you say, Caldwell? Up to play a little hooky?”
Ellery let out a surprised laugh. “Gee, Barrow. I thought you’d never ask.”