“Then you find it. And I’ll take it down.”
“Perfect.” She grasped Iskarius with both hands.
Sounds sharpened; colors muted. Ellery caught the smallest of details: glimmers of frost in her exhales; blades of frozen grass crunching beneath her feet. Power spilled from her as the world melted into a harsh chiaroscuro.
She heard it then, faint but unmistakable. Athudinside her chest, beside her own. Another heartbeat. Another source of Winter magic.
A silver outline shimmered to their right, studded with spikes.
“Found it,” she said triumphantly, then tore apart the monster’s cloaking enchantment as easily as paper.
The ghast let out a whine of panicked static as it reappeared. Its spikes glinted; its eyes rolled wildly, blue beams darting like searchlights through the clearing.
Immediately, a ray like a solar flare detonated from Valmordion and lanced through the monster’s chest. Decibel collapsed, writhing and howling as it melted from within. Throughout the clearing, snow dissolved from Valmordion’s heat. Yet even as Domenic’s arms trembled from exertion, the spell never diminished, only strengthened.
Until at last, Decibel was gone.
Domenic lowered Valmordion and braced his hands on his knees, cursing with every heaving breath.
“We’re not dead,” Ellery croaked, sheathing Iskarius.
“Speak for… yourself,” Domenic panted. “I might… keel over here.” Yet the moment he straightened, he laughed. “Fuck, we really pulled it off.”
Ellery laughed too, spinning dizzily as she basked in the sunlight that seemed to drench them both, dreamlike. There was no more dread. No more fear.
“The Council will have to take us seriously when they hear about this,” Domenic babbled. “I mean, poking around the Barren might’ve not gone down exactly the way we thought, but if the superstitions about the Dire Three are real, then maybe they’re what will lead us to the next prophecy piece—”
“I already have the next prophecy piece.”
Domenic balked. “You… really?”
“Yes.” Ellery craned her neck up at him, grinning. “I heard it during the fight. I-I guess that means, um…”
Her throat clogged, and she sniffled. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried because she was happy.
“You—we—were right,” she told Domenic. “I’m a Chosen One. We both are.”
With a delirious, victorious holler, Domenic pulled her into a hug.
Ellery gasped at the suddenness of it, of him. His arms folded tightly around her back. Her face pressed against his chest. His touch felt familiar, as though they’d known each other for years instead of days. An incredulous giddiness bubbled in her as she wrapped her arms around him, too, and as they leaned in to each other, his fingers brushed against the back of her neck. Immediately, Ellery’s magic roared in response. As if it had been utterly diverted to this one point in the universe, to the pads of his fingertips against her skin. They broke away from each other, gasping. Heat radiated down her back. Her stunned expression mirrored his own.
“I…” Domenic’s mouth hung open, but he seemed to have forgotten how to speak.
Ellery flushed and wiped away a final stray tear, searching desperately for something to say. Her gaze settled on an odd rock behind him. It shimmered blue amid the debris of the fight, like a gemstone.
“What’s that?” she asked, hastily changing the subject.
Looking similarly relieved, Domenic turned. “Is that from the winterghast?”
“I don’t know.” Ellery walked over and knelt beside it. It was about the size of her fist, unnaturally smooth and spherical, glowing with a faint cerulean sheen that reminded her of Decibel’s eyes. She drew Iskarius and pointed it at it, just in case. “There’s nothing left of ghasts after they’re destroyed. But you knew this one was different. How have you heard of Decibel before?”
“From some NDC superstitions. So, get this…” Domenic explained what he’d learned about the so-called Dire Three, finishing with, “But the rookies never mentioned them leaving pieces behind. I don’t think any of them have ever been defeated.”
Ellery tentatively touched the stone. It was cold, but seemingly harmless. She rose, clutching it.
“We should probably take it with us,” Domenic said. “The Council will want to see it.”
Ellery’s excitement ebbed, reality flooding back in. “Oh. The Council.”
