Chapter XXII. Ellery #2
Domenic jolted, and his eyes snapped to hers. But he didn’t let go.
“I can’t promise that we’ll always get it right,” she said. “But I believe in us. And I can promise you that whatever’s coming, you’re not in it alone. Not now. Not ever.”
His throat bobbed. Gradually, his breathing eased.
“I, um,” he said. “I can’t say I love the idea that destiny steered my whole life, even with certain chapters excluded. But I think I believe now. And of all the people destiny could’ve paired me with, I’m really glad it was you.”
“I’m glad it was you, too.”
Left, then right, then right again, their car veered through city streets. Other vehicles jumbled out of the way, but it was still slow going to squeeze through traffic, and their car jostled as pavement shifted into the cobblestones of Gallamere’s oldest neighborhoods.
But so long as she kept hold of his hand, Ellery felt calm.
She studied Domenic as he stared out the window again, his breathing steadier, his head leaning back against the cushion. His freckles peeked out from beneath his gala makeup.
Ellery had thought it impossible for her to feel so connected to another person. But she trusted Domenic wholly, truly, in a way that she had never trusted anyone.
“Can I tell you something?”
He turned to meet her eyes. “Of course.”
“My parents.” Ellery spoke matter-of-factly. “Everyone knows they died in the fall of Nordmere. What they don’t know is how.”
As Ellery searched for the right words, Domenic didn’t push her. He waited patiently until she was ready to continue.
“Things were difficult at home even before I developed magic. And once I did, it was obvious that my magic was strange. I accidentally iced over my bedroom, and I covered our garden in snow in the middle of Summer. So my parents took my training wands away and refused to let me study magic. But after that, they were always afraid of me. They told me I was a monster. And I believed them.”
Memories flipped through her mind like a film reel, as though she watched them on-screen, a spectator to her own life. During her first days at the Citadel, healers had mended three improperly healed fractures in her arms and legs. They’d never asked her where they’d come from.
“El,” he said gently, but she didn’t need to pause again. Her voice hadn’t quavered. Her heartbeat was stable. And she wanted to tell him, wanted him to know her, all of her.
“Then, when the winterghasts invaded Nordmere, my parents thought I was partially to blame. I wasn’t, of course, but they didn’t believe me. So they took it upon themselves to play the hero. To slay … me.”
Domenic sucked in a tight, furious breath and squeezed her hand tighter.
“I’d hidden a training wand from them. And I only wanted to protect myself, but I was so scared.
I lost c-control.” Ellery swallowed and fixed her gaze on the partition.
“I tortured myself over what happened for years. Finally I convinced myself that I was too traumatized to remember it correctly, that no magician could possibly have Winter magic. But when I realized I was Chosen, it finally made things clear. Because if I’m destined to save Alderland, why would destiny want me to be horrified by my own power?
Maybe I was always meant for Winter, but that doesn’t mean I was always meant to suffer.
My parents chose to treat me the way they did.
It could’ve been different. But sometimes, I still hear their voices in my head.
And I wonder if maybe they were right. Because only a monster could … could…”
Her heartbeat ratcheted violently, and despite her resolve, a hideous panic rose within her. Maybe she’d been wrong to trust him. Maybe it was better to hold herself apart, alone. Maybe—
“Listen to me, El,” Domenic said fiercely. “There’s nothing monstrous about fighting back.”
Ellery felt his words as much as she heard them. Her pulse slowed, and she trembled, not with fear but with relief. She leaned against him, and he released her hand to slide his arm around her.
“I want to believe you,” she said, sniffling. “I almost can. I just know that no matter what happens, I need to prove them wrong.”
He kissed the top of her hair. “You already have.”
As they neared the outskirts of the Citadel, the direness of the task ahead returned to Ellery.
But even as she tried to train her thoughts on their shared duty, her focus slid back to the press of Domenic’s arm, to the way she’d nestled against him.
Their thighs pressed together. The scent of his cologne.
Longing fluttered inside her like a flurry of snow.
Their car hadn’t even reached a full stop before Ellery and Domenic threw open their doors, cloaked themselves, and raced through the maze of academy buildings. They found the cave already vacated.
It looked just as Ellery remembered, a space the size of a classroom carved into the mountain.
Two trees flanked the entranceway, their roots and branches threaded into the stone.
Enchanted graffiti shimmered across the walls.
Embers flickered inside a pit in the dirt floor, sending weak puffs of smoke through a hole in the ceiling.
Discarded cups, bottles, and candles lay scattered everywhere, crunching beneath their feet as they took in the mess.
“Okay, walk me through how this…” Domenic tapped an empty chip bag with his shoe, “ceremony works.”
Ellery’s certainty wavered. “The oldest students start the fire pit, and then everyone else lights candles and adds their own flames to it. I think we should start by lighting it, too.”
“Makes sense to me.” He was a silhouette amidst the cave’s dim and the faint glow of Valmordion. The only sounds were the two of them catching their breaths. Side by side, they raised their wands, but neither cast a spell.
“You know,” Ellery whispered, “if we’re caught, we’ll get a week’s detention.”
He wheezed out a startled laugh. “Shit. Another strike on my record, and I’m out.”
“Then we’d better be quick.” She nudged him with her elbow. He nudged her back.
“All right,” she said. “On three?”
“On three.”
As Ellery counted down, her nerves dissipated. For so long, the past had rooted her in a place of fear and shame. But whether they were right or wrong about tonight, they would find a way forward. She trusted him. She trusted herself.
Together, gold and silver flames ignited within the fire pit. But rather than blending into one, the colors intertwined into a spiral. They danced and blazed and churned until, suddenly, they exploded.
Magic swept across the cave. Flowers blossomed from the dirt, encrusted in ice that melted into dew.
The branches in the ceiling sprouted fresh leaves, first a tentative, softer yellow before bursting into brilliant Summer green and then an alien, vivid crimson.
They detached from the tree and tumbled through the air, their veined patterns as delicate as snowflakes.
“What is this?” Domenic gasped. They both sheathed their wands, then stared, stunned, as their accidental enchantment sputtered out. Ellery had heard of such phenomena in other lands, but never here.
Before she could respond, wind whistled through the now-shriveled leaves.
in treacherous land an enemy lies
but what was lost invasion can reclaim
She turned to Domenic and recited the piece aloud.
“I was right,” she said breathlessly, victoriously—until it dawned on her exactly what the piece said.
“An invasion,” Domenic croaked, echoing her own thoughts. “So it’s finally happening. We’re finally going to reclaim the fallen territory.”
“This was our fifth piece. That means there’s a chance the next one could be … the final one.”
They stared at each other in mirrored shock. Then, as one, they broke into celebration. Ellery laughed into her palm. Domenic spun, glass shattering beneath him, before hollering so loud the sound of it reverberated across the cave.
“Careful,” Ellery teased. “If someone hears us, we really might get detention.”
He halted, his smile mischievous. “Oh no, can you imagine the scandal?”
Even as their laughter ebbed, the word lingered between them, growing all the more substantial in the silence.
Again, her gaze caught his.
“I can think of a better one,” Ellery said.
Then she kissed him.
Domenic kissed her back, so immediately and so fervently that there was no question this want had ever just been hers.
He clutched her hips, pulling her closer, while she snaked her arms around his neck.
And although Ellery had kissed boys before, she knew in an instant that this, he, was different.
Domenic was pure Summer even now, on the darkest night of the year.
His lips were soft and honeyed, and he smelled of moss and wildflowers.
His magic sang against hers, sizzling heat against shocking cold.
Power pooled in her stomach, her throat, sluicing through her in an intoxicating rush of adrenaline.
Yet as their initial frantic touches faded, in their place something deeper unfurled, a tenderness that Ellery had never known, had never thought to dream of.
His every touch felt laden with intention, as if trying not just to savor her but to memorize her.
Each kiss was reverent and raptured; his lips trailed down her jaw while his fingers traced her spine, taking full advantage of her dress’s daring silhouette.
She buried a hand in his hair, mussing it from its sleek part into the disheveled style that better suited him.
They sank blissfully into the rhythm of their mouths, their hands, their bodies.
Until Ellery forgot why she’d ever denied this of herself, of either of them.
When something was right, it wasn’t a distraction. It couldn’t be. And nothing and no one had ever felt more right to her than Domenic Barrow. For all she’d wanted, for all she’d wished, she’d never wanted anything the way she wanted this.