“Do you really think Winter’s Chosen is meant to destroy it?”
Ellery recoiled and fell silent. In all their interviews, Domenic had never seen her at a loss for words. He touched her sleeve. But as he prepared to jump in, it was Wilder who rescued her.
“How ’bout that, folks! Looks like it’s already time to say goodbye. On behalf of myself, everyone here at Capital Broadcasting Studios, and—if I may—the whole country, we thank you both for giving us a chance to get to know the real Chosen Two. Next, a word from our sponsors: Humphrey & Lee’s menthol cigarettes—they’ll soothe your throat and keep your breath minty fresh. There’s no better way to finish off a meal! And our second sponsor,Foretold.Now that’s a blockbuster you won’t want to miss. It follows the story of Alice Rhodes…”
Domenic and Ellery shut the door of the recording studio as they fled.
“What was that about?” he asked Ellery. “Are you all right?”
Ellery smoothed down where her dress cinched into her belt. “There’s never been a magician like me before. We can’t expect the whole country to understand how it works.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Iseul said kindly. “Still, it might be prudent to start limiting public questions at future events.”
Ellery nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”
“And Domenic, I wanted to say I was very impressed by how gracefully you handled that second caller asking about destiny. I know you still have complicated feelings about it, but your answer really did sound believable.”
Domenic held tight to his grin, knowing Iseul had truly meant her words. She just had no idea that he’d meant his, too.
“No, you’re right. It’s been years. I figured it was a long shot. I… Yeah. Well, guess we’ll talk again soon. Tell Dad, Robby, and Oliver hi from—Oh. Sorry. Yeah, I know it’s late. Right. Goodbye.”
Domenic hung up the phone on his nightstand and slumped onto the edge of his bed. He should’ve known that’d be bullshit.
All day, Domenic had simmered over the call-in question from the interview that morning, asking if he’d always known he was different from everyone else. And if he couldn’t get answers from his family…
He snatched Valmordion from atop his quilt and slid it from its sheath. Immediately, a cool draft kissed the back of his neck.
The phone rang.
He answered it.
“I was starting to think you’d fallen asleep on me.”
He grinned. “Says the one who’s usually dozing off. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
“Yeah, I… I can’t sleep.”
Domenic fell back on his mattress, Valmordion clutched in his hand, the phone propped between his shoulder and ear. Twenty-seven blocks separated Iseul’s home from Ellery’s new Order-provided apartment, but when they both held their wands, distance was meaningless. She was here. And he was there.
“So which of this week’s PR events takes the cake?” he asked. “The one where someone asked for locks of our hair, or the voice like a winterghast asking you about your fifty-year plan?”
“Oh, definitely the hair thing.” Then her voice went soft and unsure, so different from how confident she’d sounded on the radio. A voice Domenic only ever heard her use when it was just her and him. “Do you think that caller had a point?WouldWinter’s Chosen be meant to destroy it?”
“That caller had no idea what they were talking about.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Look at the prophecy. Look at our track record. This time last Winter, there’d beenfivescurges. But we haven’t had a single one since Oldermere. If that isn’t peace, I don’t know what is.”
“You’re right. Of course you’re right.” She let out a sigh, andit was one thing to hear it. It was quite another to feel it shudder across his room.
“To be honest, I’ve been dwelling on the interview, too,” Domenic admitted. “Specifically, the question Basil from Enmere asked about destiny.”
“I thought we had a standing agreement not to bring up thedword.”
He laughed. But he was only stalling. Not because he didn’t trust Ellery, but becausethiswas what got him through day after day of asinine, cartoonish bravado. Knowing that when the curtain closed, they’d shirk off their costumes, one of them would call the other, and for hours, they’d joke about work, about everything, about nothing. But so far, this conversation didn’t feel like joking at all.
“It’s just you and me right now,” she said gently.
