Chapter XVIII. Ellery
XVIII
ELLERY
WINTER
Ellery reapplied her lipstick, a light rose shade called First Blush. Then she studied herself in the vanity mirror of the Citadel dressing room, finally satisfied.
Ellery had only just begun to believe she was a hero. But in minutes, she needed to make the country believe it, too.
A ray of warmth grazed the back of her neck, and someone cleared their throat.
Ellery spun to spot Domenic hovering in the doorway, beside two clothing racks and a discarded pair of heels.
If not for his distinctive lanky frame, Ellery might not have recognized him.
His normally unruly hair had been slicked into a gleaming side part, the divots of the comb still raking through the pomade.
Bronzer framed every peak of his face to make his angles sharper, his features older; foundation masked his freckles; concealer softened his usually heavy stare.
Complete with a tailored russet suit, waxy loafers, and Valmordion’s golden sheath at his side, Domenic looked like the leading man on an Aldrish movie poster.
He stretched out his arms in mock surrender. “Go ahead. Tell me how ridiculous I look.”
Ellery cocked a brow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Alderland.”
Domenic scowled as he bent to examine himself in her mirror. He tugged at his bow tie. “Right? I look like I’m about to break into the national anthem.”
Then he straightened and looked her up and down. Ellery was suddenly overly aware of every detail of her own appearance.
Ellery’s hair was flawlessly finger-waved, her makeup applied by professionals who’d wielded brushes and pencils as artfully as wands.
Councilor Seong had outfitted her in a cream two-piece velvet jacket and blazer, with matching suede heels.
Ellery had seen a similar outfit in a magazine ad billed as the stylish choice for the modern young career woman.
Her favorite part was her necklace, a dainty chain studded with crystal teardrops that dripped elegantly down her throat.
“Well?” Ellery asked dryly. “What do you think of Miss Perfect?”
“You look great. The necklace, whatever wavy thing they did with your hair—it all suits you. Are you happy with it?”
“With the outfit? Sure.” Ellery heaved out a breath. “It’s the performance I’m worried about.”
“You’re telling me. I mean, who’s gonna buy this?
” He shook his wrist, where a hideous, clunky designer watch jangled.
“Have you seen the stuff they’ve printed about me in the papers?
Half our classmates jumped at their five seconds of fame all to tell the country I’m a jackass.
And now I’m going up there pretending I’m …
I’m…” Even through his makeup, his skin went green.
“Hey. Hey. Why don’t you sit down?”
Domenic nodded and collapsed into the vanity chair. Ellery pulled Iskarius from its fancy new silver sheath and fetched him a glass of water.
“Drink this. And yes, the irony of the situation isn’t lost on me.”
“Ha. Ha,” he grumbled even as he accepted it. “I just—I know today isn’t as important as fulfilling the prophecy. But I don’t want the whole country panicking because I’m … because of who I was.”
“I get why you’re nervous,” Ellery said. “But if it makes you feel better, if the country’s going to panic about anything, it’ll be me. It doesn’t matter how good I look.” She grimaced and sheathed her wand. “I mean, I could go out there naked, and the only thing anyone would stare at is Iskarius.”
Domenic choked on his sip of water. Ellery flushed as she realized exactly what she’d said, and to whom.
“Oh, come on,” he said hoarsely. “I’m sure the reactions would be mixed.”
Ellery’s flush only deepened. “You flatter me.”
Domenic set down his glass and stood. This close, the heat of his magic radiated against her. “How about this? Whatever parts we have to play to make Alderland happy, we do it. But when it’s just us, no bullshit. Deal?”
“Deal.”
He extended his hand for her to shake. Ellery hesitated.
“Look, in the interest of no bullshit…” She curled and uncurled her fingers. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but when we touch, I—no, we—feel something, don’t we?”
Something intimate flickered in his gaze, like the glint of candlelight. “I feel your magic. It’s kinda like being thrown in a full-body ice bath.”
“An ice bath? Really?”
“Well, what’s it like for you, then?”
When Domenic had touched her, she’d felt his magic kindle like a flame, and her own magic had drawn toward him, so sharp, so alert.
“Uh…”
The door creaked open. Ellery and Domenic lurched away from each other just before Councilor Seong strode in, a stack of notecards in one hand and Calynia in the other. She frowned and flicked her wand, and an additional notecard soared in from the hallway to join the others.
“Caldwell, your remarks are all finalized, and if you’re ready we can … Oh, Dom. I didn’t realize they’d finished with you. You look…” Seong pressed her palm over her heart.
Domenic chuckled. “That bad, huh?”
“No, you don’t look bad,” she managed. Then, collecting herself, she smoothed down his sleeves that didn’t need smoothing. The gesture was so familiar, so parental, as though she’d done it dozens of times before. “You look the part.”
“I can play the part,” he told her firmly.
Seong squeezed his shoulder. “I know you can. I’ve always known how talented you are. It’s just … Never mind. I’m so proud of you.”
Ellery knew that Domenic lived with Seong and Mayes, but over the last day she’d come to realize that the Councilors weren’t just his mentor and his friend. They were his family.
It was impossible not to see parallels to her own situation, except for all that Glynn had tried to defend her to the Council, he’d always kept her at arm’s length.
Maybe he’d suspected she had Winter magic all along. Maybe that was why.
Seong distributed notecards to both of them. “Now I ought to warn you: I’ll do my best to corral the reporters, but they’re impatient and riled up. However, so long as you stick to your scripts and maintain calm, that should minimize any problems. Understood?”
“Yes,” Ellery said.
Domenic gulped as he tucked the notecards into his blazer. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“Then come on. It’s best not to keep them waiting any longer.”
Ellery and Domenic followed Seong, Domenic’s posture rigid, Ellery’s sensible heels clicking against the floor.
They emerged onto the Citadel’s front steps, through the arched stone gate separating its campus from Gallamere’s iconic Main Street, the star of a million postcards. Neat rows of trees ended in two gigantic flagpoles, each proudly flying the Aldrish green and white.
Immediately, cameras flashed, smoke coughing from their shutters and swathing everything in a disorienting, dreamlike haze.
Behind the reporters were a series of barricades, blocking off traffic and holding back the crowds of spectators.
There were hundreds—no, thousands of people, blanketed by a heating spell, their breath fogging as they chattered excitedly.
The roped-off first row was crammed with faces from the newspaper’s front pages, including the Prime Minister. Nerves stirred in Ellery as she walked to the podium with the same polished poise that she’d honed at the academy, then positioned herself behind Seong, Domenic at her side.
“Thank you all for gathering here today,” Seong said into the microphone.
“Since Valmordion’s vigil, the Magicians Order has worked tirelessly on behalf of this nation’s future.
And as the Director of Public Relations, on behalf of the Council, I am proud to now address the Aldrish people regarding the developments of the past several days. ”
The rest of the Council sat amongst the Gallamere elites. Yet Mayes was notably absent, a chair for her missing entirely.
“Over the last millennium, our country has been given a series of prophecies to ensure our survival against Winter. Along with each prophecy comes a hero. Again and again, they have shielded us from cataclysm, and as a new one approaches, for the first time in history, we have been granted a Chosen Two: one who wields Valmordion, the great wand of Summer … and one who wields Iskarius, a new wand of Winter.”
The crowd began to rumble, but Seong continued, seemingly unfazed. Ellery kept her countenance unfazed, too.
“It is with great confidence that I introduce Alderland to Domenic Barrow and Ellery Caldwell.”
The crowd applauded sparsely. Many murmured. The reporters craned closer, scribbling in their pads and raising their cameras higher.
“They have some remarks they’d like to share,” Seong said. “So please hold any questions until afterward. Thank you.”
She descended the steps to sit with the rest of the Council. Ellery’s heartbeat quickened as she and Domenic approached the podium.
“Hello, my name is Domenic Barrow,” Domenic read off his notecards, his voice oddly stilted as he chronicled his own life story: his birth in the industrial city of Danmere, and his excellent scores that earned him admission to the Order’s academy.
“Being considered as a candidate for a Living Wand was already a great honor. But it was two days ago, when Valmordion Chose me as its fated wielder, that I was given—no, um, granted—the absolute greatest honor, and the greatest responsibility: to save Alderland from the cataclysm ahead. But of course, this came as no surprise to me. As I”—he paused, frowning—“have always known that I bear a great destiny.”
After he finished, they transitioned awkwardly, bumping elbows as Ellery took his place. The microphone crackled as she lowered it.