Page 24 of Fortress of Ambrose (House of Marionne #3)

Nineteen

Quell

Willam pulls the doors to the den closed.

He and Knox have to understand everything depends on keeping magic safe.

Jordan sits beside me on a love seat. The distance between us rattles my already-frayed nerves.

Recklessly, I cross the bridge with my arm, running my fingertips across the cushion for a brief graze of his skin.

His magic doesn’t disturb mine instantly.

A fleeting moment of comfort has to be okay.

But he shakes his head and doesn’t come closer.

Knox and Willam are across a coffee table from us with untouched drinks. Willam’s fingers drum on the table, and I can feel their thump in my chest. He isn’t going to let Jordan stay.

“I think it would be helpful to get a better understanding of what you want, Quell,” Knox says, jumping right in.

“What I want?”

Jordan doesn’t look at me, and somehow that makes it easier to answer.

“I want my magic intact.”

“Are you only concerned for yourself in all this?” she asks.

After all I’ve been through, don’t I deserve to focus on me? Why is it my job to fix everyone’s burdens? “If I say yes, then what?”

“I just don’t believe Rhea’s daughter—” Willam starts.

Jordan’s grip tightens on the seat.

“Leave my mother out of this,” I say.

“Tell us what you want.” Jordan folds his arms. “What do you picture the Order looking like, if you had a say?”

“To be clear, the offer was that we would have a say if we helped you.” Willam’s finger stabs the table.

“That’s not an answer to my question,” Jordan retorts, and I shift in my seat. This is going sideways.

“Clarity is important,” Willam says.

“It was just an idea I threw out,” I say.

“Which is my choice to refuse or accept,” Willam says. “And I am still chewing on it all.”

“She can’t offer things that are not hers to give,” Jordan says.

I glare at Jordan. The tension in the room is sharper than a knife. Knox whispers something to Willam.

“We are no longer willing to be hunted,” Willam says.

“That’s a brotherhood decision,” Jordan says.

“Aren’t you the face of the brotherhood?” Knox says.

“Hardly,” Jordan says.

“Regardless”—Willam leans forward—“we expect this new version of the Order will grant safe houses the right to form our own Houses.”

“I don’t see why you being allowed to have official Houses is our concern at all,” I say. “Jordan, we don’t care. Tell them we don’t care what they do.” I smile tightly. We need some kind of support, and right now they’re the only ones open to helping us.

“I don’t care what you do,” Jordan says. “Or Knox. Or the others here. But I can’t give you a blanket pass for anyone in a safe house. That goes against everything I believe is right.”

Willam slaps the table. “I guess we have our answer!”

“No, hear me out,” he goes on. “There are dangerous people in safe houses. You can’t deny that.

People who make a sport of hurting others.

For centuries, Darkbearer descendants have hidden in safe houses.

And now, some of them are resurfacing, committing crimes like their predecessors.

The Sixth Ward. The others in the papers. ”

Willam glares. Knox purses her lips.

“He’s saying we trust you,” I say. “But we can’t trust everyone because we trust you.” I try to sit straighter and realize my hand is cemented to the edge of the coffee table.

Jordan goes on. “The Dragunhead is out there somewhere. He tried to kill me. I know my aunt is plotting to turn this chaos in her favor somehow. I can only do so much with the Order when its old leaders are still in power.”

He isn’t wrong. The Houses have been silent.

Only Isla Ambrose issued a formal statement after the Sphere was destroyed.

The front page headline heralded her House for their “deep commitment and pioneering intellect” as they study up on new uses of magic that could be helpful in finding the guilty culprit or aiding in restoring magic to a safe location.

“I’ll need time to act on any of this after I’m healed.”

“You possess all of magic—you can do whatever you want whenever you want,” Willam says.

“That’s not leadership. Which is precisely why I am in charge and you are not.”

The tension in the room grates. This bargaining isn’t working.

Willam doesn’t trust me. And he isn’t going to start trusting Jordan if he doesn’t fully trust me, because I brought Jordan here and am vouching for him.

The only way to prove I’m trustworthy is to put something on the line.

I shoot up from my seat. “Look—the way magic exists isn’t equitable or fair.

I spent most of my life on the run. You’ve been forced to live the same way.

Saving dark magic is a shift from the way things have been done.

It’s a change in a good direction for both of us. Can we all agree on that?”

Heads nod around the table.

“Bringing Jordan here was a risk. If Yani could follow us, others could.” A question burns in Jordan’s eyes, but I ignore it. I know what I have to do. “We need to get everyone here behind the walls of an estate with more protections in place. It’s more secure.”

Knox sits up, her eyes widening.

“You’re saying, relocate to…”

“Chateau Soleil. Kedd, Rein, the twins, you all are welcome at House of Marionne.” It’s technically my House. Willam’s jaw dangles open. Jordan stares, stoic, but I can feel his anger burning in my heart.

“You would take us there, breaking how many rules?”

“Didn’t you just say we make the rules now?”

No one living in a safe house has set foot in an ancestral magical House.

Safe houses are a refuge for those running from the Order.

Going to Chateau Soleil isn’t just giving them safe haven; it’s defying history.

Jordan hasn’t moved, but he is silent, which I appreciate.

I’m doing this for him, for me, for all of us.

“Once we arrive, you will summon a Healer to tend to his wound. That’s all I ask for the safe haven.”

“When would we have to leave?” Willam asks.

“Whenever you want. Even Dimara, if she’ll come.”

They are speechless. And I have my answer.

“I guess I’ll go tell everyone.” Willam’s mouth is thin when he tips his hat, excusing himself.

Jordan sinks deeper in his seat, stroking his chin.

Knox pulls me aside. “I had to be in line. Willam’s lead now. But I do believe in what you’re doing. It’s very courageous, Quell.”

I’m not sure what to say. I’m not concerned with bravery or anything like that. I just want to live in a real way.

“And you’re sure you’re not interested in leadership?” She squeezes my shoulder affectionately. “You did good, Quell. I won’t say exactly what I’m thinking, but I’m sure you can imagine.”

My mother would be proud.