Chapter XXIII. Domenic #2
“Now, we don’t know what tasks the future prophecy pieces will ask of you,” Peak went on.
“But it’s our job to anticipate. All these rumors of the Dire Three, they only go back so many years—ten or eleven, so we think.
And given how powerful they are, how soon after that we lost the fallen territory, these ghasts are significant.
And we’ve got a hunch that we’ll need to slay all three of them to make sure this cataclysm doesn’t come to pass. ”
Domenic rested his finger upon Valmordion’s handle at his side, focusing on his limitless expanse of power. However daunting this invasion seemed, they’d never lost. They never would.
They never would.
“Whatever it takes,” he murmured, “we’ll end this.”
Peak grimaced, so quick and imperceptible that Domenic wouldn’t have caught it if the expression didn’t look so alien on him.
And just like that, Peak was smiling again. “So whaddya say, Dom, El? You up for hunting a couple monsters?”
As Domenic and Ellery exited the command center, Domenic squinted into the fluorescent lights of the facility hallways, the harsh cast of reality. He clasped his sweaty hands together so as not to reach for her. For however much he’d reassured himself, he needed fantasy. He needed distraction.
“Hey, Dom!” Peak called, jogging up behind them. Domenic halted, and Peak clapped him hard on the shoulder. “What would you say to the two of us having a little talk, man-to-man?”
Immediately, Domenic and Ellery exchanged a stricken look. Peak knew. He knew they’d crossed the line.
“Oh. Uh, yeah,” Domenic answered weakly. “Why not?”
Peak beamed. “Come on. I’ll give you the tour.”
Domenic followed him into an officer lounge, which proved little more than several couches, a pool table, and a bleak kitchenette with a poster of some presumably famous, scantily-clad woman duct taped to the fridge. Several magicians saluted as they entered.
“At ease, all of you,” Peak told them jovially.
Then he procured two beers and steered Domenic toward a couch in the corner, beside a radio whose jazz music crackled over the long-distance airwaves.
Peak stretched out wide, his arm draped over the back cushions. Domenic leaned his elbows on his knees.
Then a sudden warmth radiated against Domenic as Peak drew Targath. He flicked it, and his bottle cap popped off and plunked against the linoleum floor, slightly singed.
Why not? Domenic repeated to himself, training his own historical magical artifact on his beer. The cap crumpled and fell onto his lap.
“Well, cheers,” Peak said, and they clinked bottles. Peak took a hefty swig. Domenic tilted his bottle back but didn’t let any liquid pass his lips. He could control Valmordion, but he still wasn’t about to drunkenly wave around a weapon that could raze mountains.
He did still have a few lines.
“I know Toddy Lite isn’t anything fancy,” Peak said, “but I’m fond of it. Me and a buddy used to sneak them into our dorm room. Got ourselves into some real trouble back in the day, if you can believe it.”
“Trouble?” Domenic echoed hoarsely, still bracing himself. “Yeah, I think I can see it.”
“I miss those days. Your whole time at the academy, all you’re told to think about is getting your Living Wand.
They don’t tell you how your life changes”—he snapped his fingers—“just like that. The second I bonded with Targath, all of a sudden, I had a uniform. A rank higher than anyone in my class, even those who joined the NDC before me. People saluting when I walked into a room. I don’t think I ever got used to it, to be honest. I’m sure you know the feeling. ”
Domenic laughed darkly. “Yeah. I do.” Then, tentatively, he relaxed. Though if Peak didn’t intend to scold him, Domenic had zero idea where this man-to-man talk was going. “But if you weren’t ready, why did you sign up for Targath’s vigil in the first place?”
“Oh, the same reason every student had their eyes on it from the moment my predecessor dropped dead. It guaranteed a future, glory. But after Hoover and Smith were killed before Calynia’s vigil—and Iseul just about—my roommate and I used up almost all our training wands enchanting our locks at night. ”
Domenic shuddered to imagine what the academy must’ve been like before sabotaging competition was punishable by expulsion.
“Besides,” Peak went on, “I never doubted I could handle Targath’s power. But the responsibility? I had no idea what I was getting into.”
“What changed?”
“Well, a few months later, that buddy of mine followed me to the NDC. He bonded with Fellis, which—don’t get me wrong—it’s a respectable wand.
But that first time we went into a scurge together, technically, I was his commanding officer.
It’s the duty of Targath’s wielder to lead, their destiny to protect their men.
And I didn’t grasp that.” Peak blew out a breath.
“Fellis has passed through a few hands at this point. It’s with one of our cadets, now.
I’ve never met her, but I’ve seen her from a distance. She’s real dependable, I’m told.”
Domenic winced. For however ridiculous Peak’s lopsided smiles were, carrying around a burden like that, it was impressive he could smile at all.
“Can I ask you something?” Domenic ventured.
Peak tipped his beer toward him. “Ask away.”
“Why were you so sure about me before you even knew me? Was it just destiny?”
Across the lounge, billiard balls smacked together. One of the officers whooped. Others laughed.
“I’ll admit,” Peak answered, “when Iseul first told me she was taking you and Hanna in, I was pretty surprised. Worried, even. Neither of us had ever wanted kids, and the pair of you, after what you’d been through …
it seemed a daunting task. But Iseul’s a smart judge of character, and she saw something in you two.
And watching Hanna grow up all these years, that something was obvious.
That girl’s a force. Too stubborn and clever for her own good, mind you, but you gotta be, to make it to the Order from factory towns like Danmere—let alone to wield Syarthis.
Now that’s a responsibility I never would’ve asked for. ”
Domenic examined Targath’s calcified sheath jutting out from one of Peak’s pockets. He’d never considered the similarities between Targath and Syarthis before: both the most powerful of their class of magic, both accompanied by inherent expectations.
But there was more than that. Syarthis, Targath, Ravfiri … Domenic felt the heat of every Living Wand, but none compared to theirs. And when Peak drew Targath, when Hanna drew Syarthis, Domenic could always tell, instinctively. They each bore a presence of significance.
Domenic’s stomach sank. “So you were only sure about me because of Iseul and Hanna?”
“No, that was only part of it. The bigger reason was when I first met you, when the Council visited you in the hospital. You were real quiet, real shaken up—understandably, of course. Anyone else would’ve dropped out.
But you chose to stay. And I know the whole country’s had a lot to say about your grades, your attendance.
Even Iseul worried you were squandering your potential.
But me, I always thought what you did achieve was pretty remarkable. Special, even.”
Domenic fixed his gaze on the cinder-block wall. “Oh, um…” He cleared his throat. “That’s nice of you to say.”
“I mean it! And look at you now! Three weeks ago, you were so sick you were green on that train to Oldermere. You ought to be real proud of how much you’ve grown. I know I am.”
“I mean…” Domenic shifted awkwardly. “It’s not like I had a choice. It was that or fail … everyone.”
This time when Peak grimaced, it lingered. And even though Domenic knew it was his imagination, he swore the radio’s static sharpened, that the lounge’s laughter dimmed as if moving farther and farther away.
Peak gulped his beer.
“Listen to me, Dom. Because there’s something I’ve …
I’ve really been wanting to say. Whatever choices you’ve got ahead, they’re not gonna be easy.
” He rubbed the empty fourth finger of his left hand.
“And yeah, wands like Targath and Valmordion, wands with the power to save a whole lotta lives, sometimes it feels like you don’t have a choice but to put other people’s well-being before your own.
But there’s real honor in sacrifice. And that sacrifice is always worth it. ”
Domenic unlocked his sleeping quarters to find Ellery sitting in his desk chair, one leg crossed atop the other.
He hastily slipped inside and shut the door. “How did you get in here?”
“Believe it or not, I’ve done this before,” she said slyly, repeating his same words from when he’d climbed through her dormitory window. Domenic raised a brow, dangerously curious despite having no right to be.
Then Ellery’s voice went worried. “So what happened with Peak? Were we too obvious?”
“No, if anything, Peak thinks too highly of me.” Domenic paced as he struggled to find the words for their conversation. His chest felt oddly tight. “Peak said some things that sort of freaked me out, though.”
“Like what?”
“All this stuff about duty, sacrifice. I don’t think he meant to sound so dark. But…” He trailed off as Ellery’s anxious expression began to mirror his own. “Actually, never mind. It was probably all in my head.” He didn’t trust himself when he was like this.
“I’ve been nervous since our briefing, too,” she said softly.
For once, Domenic didn’t know if it was better or worse that they felt the same.
He managed a smile. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had my fill of duty for today.”
He grabbed her wrists and tugged her to standing. Swiftly, she slid her arms around his shoulders, pressed against him until their every slope and angle seemed to slot together.
“So have I,” she whispered.
Finally, finally, he kissed her again, and as soon as their lips met, he felt as if he was resurfacing from beneath an undertow, as if he hadn’t breathed since the air he’d last drawn from her.
And even as he braced for it, he still gasped as the chill of her magic jetted through his core.
It felt like a blast of wind from a thousand feet of free fall.
It felt like a meteoric plunge into ice water.
His own magic flared, but he didn’t dare break away.
Because now that he knew how it felt to kiss Ellery Caldwell, his survival instincts had been rewritten.
Ellery’s hips moved against his, and Domenic was grateful to have her to lean against, otherwise his legs might’ve given out beneath him.
Her mouth traced his jaw until she found the pulse point below his ear, pounding with adrenaline.
Her nails skimmed the grooves of his spine, the strip of exposed skin above his waistband, the hook of his belt loop—
Without reason, his panic kindled again, and Domenic cursed himself.
For weeks, he’d been better, and he refused to ruin this.
Not just because of how long he’d fantasized about Ellery Caldwell, but because none of the girls he’d kissed had ever looked at him like she did.
Like she saw him, all of him. And yet she wanted him anyway.
She guided him to the bed, and Domenic lay atop her, one hand propped against the mattress while the other wove into her hair.
It took restraint not to rush, but he wanted to savor this.
All the more, he didn’t want to give her the wrong idea.
She knew his reputation, and even if that version of himself had died the moment he’d grasped Valmordion, he didn’t want her to think he expected anything, that he hurried because it all meant so little to him.
Ellery, however, had no such qualms. Her mouth barely broke for air. Her touches barely lingered on one place of him before reaching for the next.
She was afraid, too.
But he didn’t acknowledge it. Not until her hands pressed against his bare stomach, and he could no longer stop himself. He paused, shivering, his forehead against hers.
“Swear to me you believe in us,” he gasped.
Ellery panted as she clutched him tight. “I already have.”
“Then swear it again. And I’ll swear it to you.”
Domenic tried not to count the seconds of her silence.
“I swear it,” she rasped finally. “We’ll survive this together. Just like we’ve survived everything else.”
“We’ll thwart it.” He snaked his arm around her waist and crushed her against him. “We’ll save each other. We’ll save everyone. And I swear, we’ll make our own destiny when this one is through.”
He’d meant their words to steady them both, and indeed, the weight of their future lifted slightly.
But the promise was so exorbitant as to have a weight of its own, and soon, there was no restraint from either of them.
Ellery hitched her breath as he squeezed her thigh.
Her hands roamed under his shirt, and wherever she touched, his magic scorched beneath his skin, so hot he almost swore he could taste smoke.
Then, outside, a siren blared.