Page 48 of Fortress of Ambrose (House of Marionne #3)

Forty

Quell

As I storm across the lawn of Chateau Soleil, my mother’s words ring in my ear like a song I hate that won’t leave.

The Dragunhead is after me. And while the walls of Chateau Soleil have my grandmother’s prickly roses, I’m not sure that’s enough to stop the leader of an army of Darkbearers if he decides to show up here.

Jordan said he saw the Dragunhead…

If that’s true, why isn’t he pursuing us…

What if the enemy is already inside?

Willam has made his desires plain—he wants his own House.

He’s already started making moves. But he was hesitant to say with whom.

He’s been at odds with Jordan since day one, but he was willing to come here with us.

And then there’s his shirt, which is always buttoned to the collar, over his new tattoo.

From what I recall it has sprawling lines stretched in every direction.

Like a sun.

Is it a shaded-in one?

Willam stands on the colonnade with a hand shading his brow, watching a throng of Marked from safe houses descend upon the estate.

“Quell, what’s the meaning of this?” Knox says as she exits the Chateau.

Jordan catches up to me. “Quell?”

“Unbutton your shirt, Willam.”

He gazes in both directions before arriving at the obvious conclusion I’m talking to him. He has always been nice to me, and he received me warmly. Maybe I’m wrong. Please let me be wrong. His skin reddens. Knox glances between us, perplexed.

“What are you talking about?” Willam looks down when he talks. I can’t see the rays or the edge of his scar.

“I want to see the tattoo you have over your scar.”

“We don’t need to do this here, Quell,” he says.

“Willam?” Knox’s curiosity deepens.

“What better place than in front of everyone else that will be staying here with us for a while?” I gesture at the group. Dexler joins us outside and clutches her chest.

“Goodness,” she says. “Do we need rooms for all of them?” she asks no one in particular. But my eyes don’t leave Willam.

I allow the cold to bleed through my fingers. “Shirt. Off.”

He exhales sharply through his nostrils, rips his buttons open. On his neck is a sun with curved rays.

And a shaded-in center.

A freshly inked Darkbearer mark.

The same marks on the bodies in the Sixth Ward.

Has he been feeding the Dragunhead information on us all this time?

Toushana bites my bones. I ball my fists, resisting the urge to unleash on him.

Knox helps Dexler order the others inside the House.

A few give her strange stares before streaming inside.

When the doors to the Chateau close, Knox grabs a fistful of her clothes, staring at Willam. I can’t tell what she knows.

“This is not how I wanted them to find out,” Willam says to Knox. She is stone. “It’s not what you think. Let me explain.” He takes a step toward me.

Toushana unfurls from Jordan in an explosion of shadows, forming a wall of darkness between us and Willam. “Your breath is a gift.”

Willam’s complexion drains of color.

“There are massacres with that symbol left as a signature,” I say.

“People who are trying to rob Jordan of the world’s magic and do who knows what to me.

And you have the audacity to stand here!

” People who have such a horrible reputation for carnage that I couldn’t live my life freely.

I was born judged by their actions. And he has struck up an alliance with them?

He is on their side? Jordan is beside me, and the nearness of him calms the rage hammering my heart.

All this time. The lies. The pretending to understand my plight.

The offering me a place while supporting the very people who give toushana a bad name.

“It would delight me to rot his bones,” Jordan says.

“I want his answer. I want to know how he looked my mother in the face; how he smiled when he told me he was glad that I was back. I want to hear how that person decides to betray me!”

“Willam,” Knox says. “I told you we couldn’t hold this secret. Out with it, all of it.”

Jordan pulls his toushana back inside himself and puts more space between us and them.

After a heavy breath, Willam says, “Knox can see if a person’s heart is pure.

That’s a branch of toushana magic that died generations ago.

It felt like an erasure of her legacy to let it go, so in our safe house, we made the exception that her magic, which is very useful, could be used.

” He lowers his voice. “The others don’t know. ”

They’re lying to Dimara, Kedd, and the others about using magic…

“And there are more like Knox who are Darkbearers, technically speaking, bound to toushana, but who want nothing to do with the carnage you’re seeing in the papers!

They are just like the rest of us, trying to find a place in the new world that won’t villainize them.

” He stands straighter. “So I agreed to ally and help them. Officially. This is our mark.” He raises his chin to let me see the tattoo fully.

It’s a sprawling sun with curved rays wrapped around the side of Willam’s neck.

My heart rends. “These people are signing this mark on bodies.”

“The Darkbearers doing that are not with us. I swear. The Dragunhead must be having them do that to frame us.”

“How could I believe anything you say? You said you’d allied with other safe houses. You meant you’ve allied with Darkbearers.”

Willam’s chin hits his chest. “I shouldn’t have lied.”

“And what do you do for them?” My gut swims.

“For the good Darkbearers, I host meetings, connect them with others in our network. Help when needed.”

Jordan folds his arms. “And how can you be absolutely sure that the Darkbearers you’re helping aren’t the ones ransacking Unmarked neighborhoods?”

“I know these people. I’m careful.”

Jordan tsks.

“You knew about this?” I ask Knox.

“She knew I’d considered it. But she didn’t know I signed on until she came back.”

“I’m sorry, Quell.” There are actual tears in Knox’s eyes now. So glistening and large I feel a pang of grief.

Beside me, Jordan fumes.

“Technically speaking, you’re a Darkbearer, too,” Willam says.

I never labeled myself or joined anyone’s cause.

All I did was bind with my toushana because it is part of me.

But I remember studying Darkbearers at Hartsboro.

How Beaulah tried to make me embrace being one, which had nothing to do with appreciating who I am and everything to do with manipulating me for control.

“Just because the world calls me a name,” I say, “that doesn’t make me a monster.”

“Exactly, Quell. Isn’t it the same for others?” Knox dabs her tears from her cheek.

“Of course it is.” I slip my hand in hers and squeeze.

Jordan stiffens beside me.

“But you should have told me up front. We have to be careful. Where are these good Darkbearers?”

“Around,” Willam says. “Hiding.” Willam touches the spot above his tattoo, and I notice a tiny stenciled star drawn there. “A beacon in the dark.”

“No more communication with them. For now.”

Willam nods.

“Speak up,” Jordan says.

Willam scowls. “No communication. Understood.”

“And it’s not my business, but it seems like you should tell Dimara and the others the truth that Knox uses magic,” I say. If some of them can still reach magic, they deserve to know that’s an option.

“I don’t like this,” Jordan mutters. As I’m about to respond, Dexler bursts through the doors of the Chateau with cracked glasses on her face and her dress’s skirt singed.

“You’re needed inside, Quell. There’s some serious disagreement among everyone over rooms. It’s getting heated.”

“We need to be very careful with these two,” Jordan whispers to me, and I hardly hear what Dexler is saying. “They lied to you. Convincingly.”

“You can see remorse all over Knox’s face.”

“I see regret for getting caught,” Jordan says. There’s something that’s hardened even more in him in the last day. And I can’t put my finger on it.

“That is heartless, and you know it.”

Knox at least is sorry. That I know for sure. But sorry doesn’t erase the damaged trust. With the world in pieces, trust is the only thing we have. And ours has been cracked. That has to be rebuilt. “We’re not arguing about this here in front of everyone.”

“Quell?” Dexler blinks, waiting for a response, but my heart races as I try to fend off panic.

What if Willam has trusted someone who is as good at lying as he is?

If Willam has worked with Darkbearers, did Zecky?

We can’t get toushana out of Jordan or save magic without help. We have to trust someone.

“I’m sorry, Maezre, Jordan and I have a lot to discuss. Things just got far more complicated. I’m sure you can sort out the issue. Maybe Knox can help.” I rush past all of them, to a side entrance of the estate, with Jordan on my heels and Willam’s confession still burning my ears.

When Jordan and I are alone in the dorm I’ve been using, I burst into tears.

“What are we doing?” I say. “All these people are here. We don’t know who we can trust. The two people we thought we could trust have been keeping this major secret. And—my mother is alive, Jordan.”

He stills. And I tell him everything my mother and I discussed: how the Dragunhead wants both of us and how my grandmother actually hid the débutants she accidentally gave dark magic to. My heart rams in my chest harder, and Jordan touches his chest.

“Is she okay? Are they all okay? Does she want to come here?”

“She vowed to my grandmother, before she died, that she’d protect Nova Misa for the rest of her life. They both agreed the House was my—” The walls suddenly feel like they’re closing in. I sit in the nearest chair.

“Quell, breathe.” His hand hovers near me, and I would give anything to nestle against it. Words fail me. I need his comfort. I need him to hold me. I need something buzzing through my body besides anxiety.

He is hardly breathing when he dries a tear from my cheek. “Is this okay? Do you feel anything?”