Chapter XXVIII. Domenic #2
He found Kumar’s lungs bristled with frostmaul, so solid he could barely expand and compress his ribs. Yet his body still fought, still lived, and instantly, Domenic could tell why. Kumar’s magic shined so bright it was blinding, so bright Domenic needed to squint his own eyes against its radiance.
Like Ravfiri’s.
No sooner had Domenic had the thought than the cold exploded, and Kumar screamed as frostmaul sheathed his neck, sealed the crevices between his knuckles. His fingers swelled. Black splotches bloomed wherever his skin met ice.
“What happened?” Ellery called out. She now knelt beside Demelza, casting a healing spell. Her friend’s head lolled back, then she coughed, her eyes blinking open. Trails of makeup ran down her cheeks. She touched a hand to her ice-encrusted neck, then stared at Ellery in horror.
“I-I think it’s my fault,” Domenic stammered. “Maltherius felt my excitement. Because it’s him, El. Kumar is Ravfiri’s wielder.”
Ellery sucked in a breath. “I’ll go get the wand. I’ll bring it to him.” To Demelza, she asked, “Will you be all right if I go?”
Demelza nodded, curling her knees to her chest.
While Ellery bolted into the vigil chamber, Domenic’s grip on Valmordion trembled. Already, he felt Kumar’s magic dimming, his pulse slowing. And so Domenic swallowed his own urge to vomit, and he unleashed more magic.
The effect was instantaneous. Kumar’s heart jolted into acceleration. His blood ignited as his veins flooded with fire. Smoke leaked out from his nostrils.
“Please don’t die,” Domenic begged him, unsure Kumar could even hear. And yet he repeated it as his skin blistered. As the room reeked of scorched hair.
Until at last, Domenic burned every trace of Maltherius out.
Kumar spasmed, and frost escaped from his mouth like a dying breath.
It whirled upward, and before it could disperse, Domenic’s enchantment seized hold of it.
Each crystal of ice fused into an awful skeletal shape—so tall it scraped the ceiling.
But most nauseating was the monster’s head.
Every inch of it was covered in eyes. They rolled and blinked and roamed, none of them in sync.
A clangorous noise pierced through the room, high-pitched and deafening, and Domenic felt the awful static of it shoot down the entire length of him. Deliriously, he realized it was Maltherius’s screech, though so far as he could tell, it bore no mouth.
Gold lanced from Valmordion’s tip and speared straight through the ghast. Its scream silenced. The pressure vanished. And it shattered.
Domenic panted. His gaze flitted to Kumar, then he clutched his stomach.
Ellery skidded to a halt beside him. In her left hand, she held Ravfiri in its sheath.
“Is he still alive?” she whispered.
“He has to be.” Domenic dropped to his knees beside Kumar and fixed Valmordion toward his chest. Subtly, his heart beat. “Give me Ravfiri. Now.”
Ellery thrust the sheath toward him, then rushed to cast a healing spell while the magicians outside stampeded into the room. Voices shouted. Footsteps thundered. Around the room, students roused as Maltherius’s magic faded.
Yet Domenic barely registered the havoc. With a levitation enchantment, he pulled Ravfiri from its sheath and rested it atop Kumar’s mangled, limp hand. Ravfiri’s heat sizzled across Domenic’s exposed skin.
“It’s not working,” Domenic rasped. “He has to be awake.”
“I’m trying,” Ellery said dismally. “But h-his wounds are…”
Domenic twisted to one of the magicians behind him. “You, go get Hanna Mayes.”
The magician paled. “But our healers here—”
“No, it has to be the best. Go. Go.”
Once the magician sprinted away, Domenic and Ellery both fought to keep Kumar alive.
But it was as if remnants of Domenic’s magic still smoldered inside him.
Each time Ellery healed one of his burns, new blisters bulged across his skin.
And while Domenic worked on his internal injuries, Kumar’s pulse sputtered, faint like a candle flame about to snuff out.
If he dies, Domenic thought, it’ll be me who killed him. Not Maltherius. It’ll be me who—
In a rush, Domenic cast an illusion over himself. Then he puked directly where Kumar had earlier.
When he returned to healing, Ellery’s free hand drifted toward his shoulder. She squeezed.
Someone cursed behind them, and Ellery jerked her hand away.
When Domenic peeked up, Syarthis stared back.
No matter how much Syarthis revolted him, this close, Domenic couldn’t quite look away.
Valmordion’s core brightened into the purest, most dazzling of golds, and Domenic felt the heat of Syarthis’s magic flare in response, feverishly hot.
“What the fuck happened here?” Hanna hissed. “Why is this kid torched?”
“Can you save him?” Domenic asked desperately. “He’s Ravfiri’s wielder, Hanna.”
Hanna took in Kumar and hesitated. Her grip tightened on Syarthis.
“Yeah,” she answered finally. “I can.” She knelt between them and aimed Syarthis at Kumar’s sternum. A soft gold light shined beneath his eyelids, and the worst of his blisters at last stilled their smoldering.
Ellery cursed in relief. “How soon will he wake?”
“I’ve got no clue. Magic boosts the body’s healing process, but the body has limits. Even for Syarthis.”
What matters most is that he’s alive, Domenic told himself. But if Kumar doesn’t wake by midnight … If he can’t bond with Ravfiri …
“What about Iseul?” Hanna asked. “The rest of the Council was in the audience, weren’t they?”
“They were unconscious when I went into the vigil chamber, but they didn’t look injured. I wanted to check on them, but there wasn’t time…” Ellery paused. Then she rose and scooped something off the floor several feet away—a frozen blue stone.
“It’s another one,” Domenic breathed. “Just like Decibel.”
“The Council should know about this, about all this. Hanna, if I leave to wake them, will you be able to get him to the infirmary?”
“We’ll be fine,” Hanna muttered. “Go.”
After Ellery left, Hanna glanced at Domenic from the corner of her eyes. “How are you holding up? The magician who fetched me told me what ghast you fought.”
“Oh, I’m peachy.”
“So it’s not your puke I’m kneeling in right now?”
“That depends. Would it be less disgusting if it were mine?”
“Nope, it still is,” she grumbled.
Around them, the Order magicians tended to the wounded. Yet even with the threat gone, they gawked anxiously at Syarthis, all but shoving the students in their haste toward the exits.
“You get out of here, too,” Hanna told Domenic. “I mean it. Take a breath.”
“I can still help you.”
“You’re not. And the reminder’s worse when we’re with each other. Look at all these grown Order magicians, fleeing like they’re the ones who just faced one of the Dire Three. By the time you get back, it’ll just be me and Flambé here.”
“It’s Kumar.”
“Don’t tell me that. Not until after I save him.”
And Hanna did save him. An hour later, Kumar stabilized enough to be transported to the infirmary. But he still didn’t wake. And so, just as one of the greatest wands of Summer had finally found a wielder, midnight arrived. And Ravfiri’s window closed.