“Then I suppose we’d better hope we were wrong about the solstice. Otherwise, we’ll have to wait another year.”
Ellery and Domenic exchanged panicked glances. Each time in history Valmordion had thawed, it had never been clear precisely when the cataclysm would descend. Although it always occurred during Winter, sometimes it arrived the year Valmordion thawed, while sometimes it waited several winters more. But even if theycouldtry again at the next solstice, the risk was astronomical. They couldn’t fail. They couldn’t.
“No, we’re not waiting,” Ellery said. “We’ll figure this out. There must be something we missed.”
“Well, given the solstice’s significance, its history, where else could the prophecy be leading?” Glynn asked. “Mayes? Any thoughts?”
Hanna’s gaze hovered on an aimless point on the floral wallpaper, her finger resting atop Syarthis’s sheath within her jacket. She wore a full burgundy tuxedo, and a black satin cummerbund accentuated her wide hips.
“Hanna?” Domenic pressed.
Hanna cursed, and her eyes rolled as they righted. “I’m trying to focus. This gala is the largest solstice celebration in the country, and I didnotjust spend an hour small-talking to some pompous prick about his second yacht for this all to have been bullshit.”
Domenic gestured at the logo on his candle snidely. “Oh, I’m pretty sure this has been bullshit either way.”
Something in Ellery snagged on that word. The sponsorships, the electric candles…
“I’ve got an idea,” she gasped. “Glynn, you know about the student solstice party, don’t you?”
“Oh, goodness, the fire hazard?” His brow furrowed. “You think the prophecy could be referring tothat?”
“I do. It might be silly, but it derives from ancient tradition, right?”
Glynn absently adjusted his tie in a way Ellery knew meant he was thinking. “Mayes, how long would it take you to verify the tradition’s history in Syarthis’s Archives?”
“Um, considering I have no idea what party you’re even talking about,” Hanna said flatly. “A while.”
Glynn turned to Ellery. “And how long would it take you to check?”
“I’m not sure. An hour or two?”
“Then in the meantime, we’ll speak to the rest of the Council and prepare some alternatives, just in case.” Glynn paused, and Ellery sensed there was something else he wanted to say. Then he grimaced and urged, “What are you waiting for?Go.”
The siren above their car wailed as Ellery sank into the backseat beside Domenic and slammed the door.
“How long until we reach the Citadel?” Ellery asked their driver.
“Normally with the siren on I’d say fifteen minutes,” he answered. “But with the holiday traffic and road closures, we’re talking twenty minutes at best. Maybe more.”
“Thanks.” Ellery wrenched up the partition and cast a soundproofing enchantment. Then she hissed out a long, vicious string of profanities.
“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Domenic muttered, drumming his fingers against his kneecap. “Tell me about this student solstice party. I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s an informal tradition. There’s this creepy cave on the north side of campus. Everyone builds a fire pit inside it and lights candles, and there’s always a bit of a pissing contest over who can enchant the strongest graffiti on the walls.”
Ellery and Julian had gone every Winter. The previous year, he’d mended a few burns from overeager NDC groupies who’d brought fireworks instead of candles. She’d accidentally won the graffiti contest after Demelza cajoled her into participating. They’d all talked about how excited they were to be done with school, how their first wand vigils were fast approaching.
Three weeks had passed since she and Julian had last spoken. He still wasn’t taking her calls.
“So we’re about to, what,” Domenic said, “burst in and shut down the party early?”
“It’ll probably be done by the time we show up. The real fun starts at the after-party in someone’s dorm room.”
Domenic uttered a quiet laugh and stared out the window. “Huh. I really missed a lot, didn’t I?”
Ellery thought of the Domenic Barrow she’d known only as the occasional ghost in the back of a classroom. Whenever his name was mentioned, it was either to whisper about his tragic backstory or the rumors of which students were bold enough to “go there.” And so Ellery could understand why he preferred to live off-campus and avoid it all. But she couldn’t deny that he’d lost something he couldn’t get back.
“And if it’s not this party, if the Council doesn’t think of an alternative, what then?” Domenic asked tightly. “Just because there hasn’t been another scurge doesn’t mean there won’t ever be.”
