“Hey, we’ve got our proof now,” Domenic said firmly. “They have to believe us.”
Ellery swallowed. “I really hope you’re right.”
XVIIDOMENICWINTER
Domenic sauntered out of Iseul’s study and halted at the kitchen’s edge, marveling at the image of Ellery Caldwell rooting through the cabinets. Twin mugs of coffee steamed atop the counter.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
“Um, sugar.”
Domenic unsheathed the greatest wand in history and gave it a flick. The pantry door opened, and the jar floated out and set itself neatly beside the mugs.
“Thanks,” Ellery said. Then, as a teaspoon sailed from the silverware drawer to join it, she smirked and added, “Wow. What manners.”
“Yes, I’m a man of many facets.” Ignoring the sugar, Domenic snatched one of the mugs and downed it. He was the kind of exhausted where just to stand was to strain against gravity, yet his thoughts whirled, delirious and drunken and jumbling together like crashing traffic. His hands shook as he lowered the mug.
“How’d the call go?” she asked.
“I think I gave Sharpe’s secretary a heart attack. I said my name and she made this sort of shocked squeaky sound, like a rabbit. Do rabbits make sounds? Actually, never mind. That’s not important. I told her I wanted the Council here as soon as possible. She mentioned Sharpe had another call with the Prime Minister in an hour, and you know what I said? I said, ‘Cancel it.’ Just like that.”
Ellery Caldwell quirked a brow. Ellery Caldwell standingin his kitchen. Ellery Caldwell barely a foot away from him, spooning far too much sugar into her mug.
Then her amusement dissipated, like the steam wafting off her coffee. “So the Council’s really coming here, then.”
“Yeah, they are. I didn’t tell them that you’re here or what we have planned, but I’m done letting them bully us. We’re the Chosen Ones, for shit’s sake! And we’ve fulfilled two prophecy pieces in twenty-four hours. From now on,theycome tous.”
Ellery chewed on her lip, an expression Domenic already knew to mean she was worried. “I think we did the right thing. But the most powerful people in the country won’t appreciate being strong-armed.”
“Actually, breaking news,we’renow the most powerful people in the country. I mean, one day, this place will probably be a museum.” He gestured around grandly. “Welcome to the residence of Domenic Barrow, Chosen One. Also Councilors Iseul Seong and Hanna Mayes. It’s within this humble abode that our great story began.”
Ellery studied him as she sipped her coffee, and he feared she disapproved of joking about such dire circumstances—but Domenic couldn’t fathom treating them any other way.
Then a smile crept across her face.
“Because a full set of electric appliances and expensive antique furniture really screams humble,” she drawled, then pointed at the breakfast nook. “Don’t tell me—is this really it?Thetable where the Chosen One ate his morning toast?”
“What an eye you have! Indeed, that is the very one! And here, come on.” He bounced through the dining room and into the parlor. “It’s on this settee where he had many a breakdown. And this! The powder room he once slept in during that week last Winter when all three of the house’s occupants had the flu and he, ever the gentleman, claimed the only toilet downstairs.”
“How chivalrous of you.”
“Howheroic,you could even say.”
Ellery snorted lightly and examined the small portrait of Domenic along the stairwell, the one Iseul had insisted on commissioning for his and Hanna’s fourteenth birthdays, less than a month apart. Then her gaze strayed to the second-floor landing. “What’s upstairs?”
“Our bedrooms.” When she moved to pass him, he leapt up and braced one hand against the wall and another on the railing, blocking her path. The room tipped rather excessively sideways as he did so. He tallied how much coffee he’d consumed in the last forty-eight hours, but either math was beyond him at the moment or he wasn’t remembering right, as that number couldn’t be correct. Unless he wasinvinciblenow. Perhaps he was.
“Oh, you expect an invitation?” he asked.
“I thought I was getting a grand tour,” she said dryly. “Besides, you barged intomybedroom this morning. It seems only fair.”
“I, uh…” He hoped he was invincible. Otherwise, should Ellery Caldwell enter his bedroom, he might actually die.
Rather than test it—or even answer—Domenic spun and bolted up the stairs.
“Are you cleaning it ahead of time?” she called, charging after him. “That ischeating!”
“I’d never!” He slammed his door behind him and frantically drew Valmordion, cursing himself for ignoring Iseul’s frequent prods to tidy his space. With an intended swish that was more like a jerk, enchantments exploded across the room. The window curtains yanked aside so violently that Domenic ducked for cover as a rod shot toward his head like a javelin. The dresser drawers hurled open, and dirty clothes crammed into them with such force that the whole structure toppled over, scattering the mountain atop it—loose coins and crinkled gum wrappers, emptied training wands and used subway tickets—across the carpet in an avalanche of trash. The singular pictureframe crashed down. The hoard of empty glasses and mugs on his nightstand teetered into each other with calamitous clatters, spilling stale dregs of water and orange juice. Only the bed (thank everything) obeyed him: the quilt tucked itself beneath the mattress, the pillows arranged themselves upright—though they did belch out a loose feather or two.
