And then her magic steeled itself, frost hardening in her veins, in her blood. A furious slice of cold against Valmordion’s unceasing heat. Her grip loosened—just enough to free her.
Ellery Caldwell screamed, and dropped the wand, and ran.
IXDOMENICSUMMER
Domenic felt as though he was burning.
Sweat dappled atop his brow and above his lips. He wrenched at his collar, gasping as quietly as he could without drawing more attention. But the remaining candidates hardly paid him any mind now. One girl hugged her knees to her chest. A boy to Domenic’s right sat rigid, his face dipped low, his fingers intertwined behind his head. Someone else muttered to themself, and the noise of it all, the battering of his heart, the reek of burnt flesh, the heat scorching like a fever across his skin, made Domenic teeter on the edge of a breakdown.
Hanna,he reminded himself.I’m doing this for—
Caldwell’s scream rang out like a death knell, startling Domenic so much he lurched to his feet.
No.Caldwell was an incredible magician. She couldn’t be hurt. She couldn’t be…
He collapsed back into his seat.
Finally, Glynn returned. His clipboard trembled in his grasp.
“El—Caldwell is fine,” Glynn assured them, and the horror in the room eased.
Until Glynn summoned the next candidate.
As more and more students filed into the vigil chamber, gradually, Domenic became aware of the stares he was attracting. At first he avoided them out of habit. But then he realized it wasn’t pity on their faces—it was curiosity. Caldwell had already failed. So what of him, the supposed second hero?
He retrieved a withered dandelion from his pocket and worried at its stem.
All too soon, Glynn called, “Barrow?”
Domenic didn’t move. Those same roots of dread tightened around his heart.
“Domenic Barrow?” Glynn repeated, even as he shook his head and his wand struck through Domenic’s name on the clipboard. He hadn’t so much as glanced around the room, assuming Domenic had joined those who’d fled.
Domenic crushed the flower in his fist.
“Haruto—”
“I’m here,” Domenic heaved. “I’m coming.”
Ignoring the surprise on Glynn’s face, Domenic brushed the ruined petals from his palms and followed Glynn through the door. His footfalls echoed on the ancient stone floor, and for several torturous seconds, his gaze ricocheted around the audience. Iseul paled but offered him a comforting nod. Hanna cringed. She mouthed something, but he couldn’t make it out.
Then his eyes fell upon Valmordion.
From that moment on, he couldn’t look away even if he’d wanted to. Power emanated from the legendary wand, so oppressive that his every step felt like walking into the embrace of a wildfire. The room around him faded as if swathed in smoke. He saw nothing else, heard no noise other than the calamitous sputter of his breaths.
And then he stood before it.
Now that Valmordion had thawed from its icy slumber, Domenic beheld its appearance in all its devastating glory. Scarlet thorns bristled like fangs along its shaft. The fingerprints that adorned the alban wood seemed to unspool the longer he stared at them, the threads of destiny swirling and knotting together.
A bead of sweat traced down Domenic’s cheek.
It wasn’t too late to run.
But the thought was fleeting, replaced by ones far more potent.He thought of Hanna, who’d sacrificed so much to save him—too much. He thought of Iseul, who’d loved them both from the moment she’d met them, simply because she understood. And most of all, he thought of a boy he used to know, who dreamed about stretching his magic to its furthest limits—if he even had any.
As Domenic reached out, something stirred inside him, something he’d long thought lost.
His fingers closed over the handle.
