And Ellery had.
Even if destiny did bear the blame, it’d been her hands that had held Iskarius. Her magic that had cast the killing blow.
“Who else is gone?” she asked.
Julian grimaced and rubbed the scar on his brow. “They’re still working on the final count, but several hundred civilians at least, including some hedge magicians. A few… a few students. And around fifty from the Order, including Councilor Peak.”
Ellery stiffened, stricken. All those people she’d failed to protect. And Peak—she hadn’t known him the way Domenic had, but the man had been kind to her.
“But you saved countless more lives than the ones that were lost. If you hadn’t stopped the cataclysm, it would have destroyed the country. Not to mention, you single-handedly tamed an army of winterghasts. And ended a thousand years of war.”
“Still, savior or not, Alderland must despise me,” she said wretchedly. “I destroyed Summer’s wands.”
Julian shook his head. “No one hates you. No one blames you for that.”
“But how? Why?”
He hesitated. Then he shuffled through some odds and ends on a nearby table before pulling out a copy of theGallamere Gazette. Ellery snatched the paper from him and gazed at the headline.
A CHOSENONEMOURNED
Domenic’s obituary was peppered with photographs of his funeral, which had taken place the week prior in Danmere, organized by his family—how he would’ve hated that. His body hadn’t yet been recovered, but Ellery knew there was no body left to find.
She skimmed the article, growing more distressed with every word. The spin was clear: he and Ellery had faced the cataclysm together, yet where she’d triumphed, he’d perished, and thus theSummer wands had perished with him. The scales of Alderland had tipped in the aftermath, leaving it suspended in a new, peaceful Winter.
As far as the obituary was concerned, he hadn’t died a hero. He’d died a martyr at best, a failure at worst.
“None of this is true,” Ellery choked. “This is awful. Why would the Order let this happen?”
“The Council will explain, as soon as you’re able to meet with—”
“Oh, fuck that. I’m going to meet with them right now.”
“You can barely sit up.”
In response, Ellery reached for Iskarius. As soon as she touched it, strength surged through her. The aches in her body didn’t vanish, but they eased. She exhaled, frost twinkling into the air, and pushed aside the bedcovers.
“Is there anything better to wear around here than my hospital gown?” she asked.
“Yeah, in the wardrobe. Although you should probably shower first.”
Ellery glared at him, then touched a strand of greasy hair. He was right. But no sooner had she stomped to the adjoining bathroom and shut the door than he called, “I should warn you—”
“What else could you possibly have to warn me about?”
She heard his sigh through the door. “I couldn’t heal everything. Even Maltherius has its limits.”
Slowly, Ellery opened her hospital gown. Bandages crisscrossed her torso. She peeled back one on her chest, above her heart. The skin was blistered and raw, just like in her dreams.
“They’ll scar,” Julian continued. “But aside from that, you should make a full recovery.”
Ellery bit back a terrible laugh. “Right.”
As she pressed the bandage back down, her fingers grazed the edge of the wound. Instantly, an image of roots veined withinher eyelids. She saw a flash of a familiar alban tree. Her handprint gleamed upon its white bark.
Nordmere.
She blinked, and it was gone.
