Page 21 of Fortress of Ambrose (House of Marionne #3)

Sixteen

Nore

The sky darkened outside the library as Nore stood near its doors looking for Yagrin.

Adola exited without a glance in her direction.

Nore followed her out, at a distance. But despite her suspicions, the girl walked alone down the street for several blocks before disappearing around a corner.

The sidewalk filled with people carrying umbrellas, but not a drop of rain fell from the sky.

And it wouldn’t because this wasn’t bad weather. The dead were coming.

Yagrin.

Just as she thought his name, he burst through the doors of the library. She waved him over.

“Hurry.”

They rushed down the steps, when the sight of dark, shadowed figures curdled her blood. Yagrin froze beside her.

“What? What is it?”

But she was speechless as darkness billowed above her, separating from itself like storm clouds being ripped apart. Her ancestors descended like an army from the sky, shards of black slamming into the street like roadblocks. She’d never seen so many before.

Is Ellery doing this? Getting more of them to come after me?

Yagrin tugged at her sleeve, but his words were drowned by a car crashing into a shadow of nothing.

The vehicle’s front was crushed on impact.

The dead didn’t move as people rushed to pull the driver out.

Cars swerved around the accident. Screams tore at her ears.

Shattered glass covered the asphalt, and shadows drew a message in the wreckage.

Soon

“There are so many more of them,” she said.

“Who?”

She couldn’t keep this secret anymore. Not when they were so good at finding them. She blew out a sharp breath and explained how some ancestors were able to die in their natural bodies but allow their souls to roam as spectral spirits around the estate, tethered to life.

She didn’t mention the Pact. Or the glass box, where the Headmistress’s heart was kept. She didn’t want to give him any reason to be suspicious of her helping him.

“Why are they looking for you?” he asked.

When her mother died, it would be her turn to honor the Pact by putting her heart in the glass box.

When the dead realize it is magicless…

That I can’t fulfill the Pact…

I am dead.

It’ll be quick and painless, like falling asleep.

I’ll bring you back immediately, I swear.

Her brother’s words as they stood over the grave still felt like a sword through her chest. He wanted her to let him kill her so he could then murder their mother.

Headship would pass to him, and he promised to bring her back with the Scroll. When she refused him, he turned on her.

Fear thickened Nore’s throat. Will it hurt to die? Her eyes stung. But she clenched her fist. She had no intention of finding out anytime soon.

But she couldn’t tell Yagrin any of this. He already suspected her of being dishonest. Giving him any clue she had a motive to steal the Scroll for herself would ruin everything.

“What is it?” he pressed as emergency response wailed in the distance.

“I”—she patted her pockets—“thought I left something. But I have it.” She bit her lip.

The throng of dead still hadn’t moved, voids of darkness with the loose shape of a person were scattered eerily on the street like soldiers standing sentry.

“I hope that person in that car is okay.” She turned and rushed off.

Yagrin stuck with her pace. She led him around a corner, then another, but the storm streamed behind them.

She couldn’t outrun the dead. She clawed at her skin, wishing she could peel it off as she picked up to a run.

When they crossed an intersection, Yagrin threw his hand in the air, and a driver came to a swerving stop.

He opened the door and they slid inside.

“Where to?”

“Park Hot—”

“Logan International!” They needed to get to Begonia Terrace, home to House of Oralia. “Our flight, remember?”

Yagrin’s brows dented, but he sat back in his seat. “I’d almost forgotten.”

The car zoomed off, but the dead followed.

At least the car was moving faster. They’d said soon.

Was her mother dying? Nore’s nails carved moons into her arms. They would get inside the huge airport and hopefully lose the ancestors that way.

The dead didn’t cross thresholds that weren’t their own.

She tried to sit back, but her grip dug into the driver’s leather.

“Did your cousin say yes?” she asked.

Yagrin’s posture sagged. She braced herself, unsure how much more bad news she could take at the moment. Everything was going wrong.

“Your brother was with my aunt.”

Nore’s nails sank deeper in the seat.

“We’re too late. He got what we needed from her.”

“No.” Her eyes burned with tears. Ellery, too, had figured out that there was a piece of the Scroll in each House. He already had half of the Ambrose piece. Now he had another. Suddenly their progress at Chateau Soleil felt like nothing. They were tied. Which meant she and Yagrin were behind.

They rode in silence the rest of the way. She had more questions, but she wanted to get down to specifics, and speaking in code was only infuriating her further.

Once they were at the airport, Yagrin tried to shift their tickets out of a scrap of paper, but the paper only rippled, his magic malfunctioning. Everything truly is falling apart.

They hustled to the counter to buy tickets the old-fashioned way. She presented her identification, but when the counter attendant grabbed it, Nore couldn’t let go. All this, the dead showing up at the library, traveling with her real name, her brother being ahead of them, set her teeth on edge.

“Ma’am, is there a problem?”

Nore released her ID. “No, sorry. Here you go.”

Once they were through security, waiting for the plane, she noticed the sky outside wasn’t as dim. Maybe they’d managed to lose them. Yet her shoulders wouldn’t uncinch.

“What else did your cousin say? Any rumors about my mother’s health?” She had to be alive, the more Nore thought about it.

Nore’s brother wouldn’t let that happen.

If he was going to steal Headship, he had to have Nore in place before their mother died.

So that her heart could be handed over to the ancestors right away.

Had he sent the ancestors to capture her?

They never got too close, but their presence was enough to make her flee.

“I didn’t get into that with her,” Yagrin said.

“Well, I need you to get into that. Getting my mother from my brother is the second half of our agreement, unless you’ve forgotten.”

“I’ve forgotten nothing, alright?” Yagrin smoothed his pants with his hands. “Look, all I know is that your brother practically skipped out of my home. Adola doesn’t trust you or any Ambroser.”

Nore huffed, frustrated.

“We were going to face him eventually. I’d hoped when we did we would have more of an upper hand. But nothing’s changed. We’re doing fine.”

Her stomach twisted. How was she going to out-clever the most brilliant magical person she knew? Her jaw ticked. She’d avoided thinking about it, but the time was growing close.

“Do you know if he’s on his way to Begonia Terrace as well?”

“We’re about to find out.”

“I don’t like this.”

“No kidding.”

“Have you been there before? Do you have a relationship with Headmistress Oralia?”

“I don’t. You’ve met Drew, I’m sure.”

“I have, but barely.” At the tea in Darragh Marionne’s rose garden, Drew and Adola had played a trick on Quell with a saltshaker. It was lighthearted, but it had made Nore uncomfortable. She didn’t know or trust either of them.

“You’re going to have to get us into her good graces,” she said.

“Do I strike you as someone who does well with people’s good graces?”

A strangled laugh escaped her.

“Somehow it’s going to be alright,” he said, turning to look at her.

“How do you know?”

“Because we have you.”

She waited for a smirk. But Yagrin’s deadpan expression did something to her insides.

It felt like the pressure of a warm, tight hug.

She scooted closer to him and leaned on their shared armrest. His body was stiff against her, but he didn’t move.

She was too nervous about everything else to smile, but it felt nice.

Maybe she could win him over as herself after all.