Page 67 of Fortress of Ambrose (House of Marionne #3)

Fifty-Three

Yagrin

Yagrin double-checked the address on the note in his pocket as he neared the downtown San Diego Tavern.

The Duncan family had been invisible since their House was destroyed decades ago.

He promised information about Shelby’s death and just hoped it was enough to get Titus Duncan to show.

He didn’t know another soul in the Duncan family.

This guy was his only chance to get the Scroll.

Yagrin took off his thick wool socks and heavy coat and shoved them into a dumpster before stepping through a trick wall between condominium high-rises.

He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and rolled his sleeves as he followed the long corridor up several flights of stairs.

He reshouldered the strap of his bag, which was digging into him.

When he reached the top floor, a cloud of chatter greeted him.

This Tavern was like any other but with palms and lots of open air.

Empty gambling tables overlooked soaring views of the harbor.

Drink and peckle trays on tables were untouched.

It is still early. He didn’t see his brother.

He’d told him to meet him here. Facing Titus together would be more convincing.

Head down, he walked straight to the bar and set his bag on the ground between his feet.

Copper and something worse stung his nose.

He tugged at the zippers on the duffel before turning in his seat to scan the place.

Titus Duncan was a behemoth of a man in both attitude and stature, he’d heard.

Notorious for his boisterous, booming voice and heavy hands.

Yagrin counted twelve people. None of them Titus Duncan. All of them Traders.

“What are you drinking?” the barkeep asked.

Something was off. This was where Titus’s note said to meet.

Yagrin pulled his coin from his pocket and turned it in his hand, clearly enough to ensure the bartender got a glimpse of its face but discreetly enough to make sure no one else saw.

The bartender rang out a towel, throwing a glance over his shoulder toward a door behind the bar.

Yagrin hesitated, checking the Tavern entrance once again before reluctantly following the bartender to a back room, where a dark-haired fellow sat with his meaty arms folded across his chest.

“It’s about time you showed.” Titus rose from his seat, towering over Yagrin, and clapped him on the back with an iron slap. Yagrin swallowed, hoping his plan would work. Because he couldn’t overpower this guy with his shoddy magic. Not by himself, if it came to blows.

Yagrin set his bag on the table, and it landed with a thud.

“Look at you. Brother to the keeper of the world.”

Yagrin leaned across the table. “What?”

“Your brother stole the Sphere’s magic. And he’s putting together a whole new Order.”

Yagrin shifted in his seat. Was that why Titus agreed to meet with him? To get favors from Jordan?

“I’m not here to talk about my brother.” Jordan either wasn’t there yet or wasn’t coming. He thought of how much Nore was counting on him. “I’ll get straight to it. I want a meeting with the Duncan Elder.”

Titus’s thick fingers circled his chin. “Demisse is dead. It’s Rajna now.”

“Where is she?”

“Around. You said you wanted to talk about Shelby. Are you here on behalf of your brother?”

“No.”

“Because that bastard has some explaining to do if the rumors are true that he’s mixed up with the Marionne girl.”

There it was. Family rivalries were like weeds, impossible to kill. The rule was House blood for House blood. But Darragh Marionne didn’t kill Shelby.

Felix did. At Beaulah’s order.

Yagrin sat back in his seat. This was playing right into his hand. The desperate were the easiest people to exploit.

“Have you heard from House of Perl lately?” Yagrin asked.

Titus flinched. “No. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I’m sorry for what happened to your daughter. I must be frank. My aunt used you. Just as she uses everyone.”

“She gave us a shot at Darragh Marionne. That toushana-spawn killed my baby girl.”

Yagrin shoved the bag across the table at Titus. “A gift. Open it.”

He peeled the zipper back to reveal a rotting head with bloody slicked hair.

“Shelby’s actual murderer. You’re welcome.”

Titus pushed back from the table, holding his nose in disgust. “I don’t understand.”

“My aunt ordered Felix to keep Shelby on a leash while she worked her way up in the House of Marionne ranks. If she got in the way, she was to be killed. At the time Shelby died, Darragh Marionne was facilitating Cotillion. Quell Marionne was there as well. You might have heard about it? The whole world has. Follow the timeline. It’s not hard to see between my aunt’s lies when you really think about it.

She hasn’t been in touch since the Sphere shattered.

You lost more people than she did. I saw with my own eyes.

And when it came down to taking the Sphere’s magic, she had her Draguns around her, not any of your people.

She doesn’t care about you or your House.

She doesn’t care about me either. She cares about power. ”

Titus gaped.

“I’m very sorry about Shelby,” he added again, for good measure.

Titus’s fist batted the head against the wall. He pounded the table and stood, kicking over his chair. When he settled, his back was to Yagrin, who couldn’t breathe. He’d played all his cards. He hoped it would be enough.

“Wait here.” Titus slammed the door.

Yagrin ducked his head out. There was no sign of Jordan. So he sat back in the chair, hoping he would actually make it back to Dlaminaugh after upsetting Titus so much.

Yagrin almost left multiple times, but after a long while, the door flew open, and Titus returned, holding a phone. His expression had changed. There were actual tears in his eyes.

“Rajna is on the line.” The big fellow swallowed hard, and it moved Yagrin’s heart.

He wasn’t sure it was compassion or relief, but either way it was one step closer to getting the answers Nore needed.

“She’s hesitant to meet in person with anyone right now.

Until things in the world shake out a bit more. ”

Hedging their bets, like Oralia.

Titus held the phone in one hand and pinched his leaking eyes with the other between sniffles.

“Yagrin Wexton, son of Richard Wexton, nephew to none other than Beaulah Perl. Thank you for connecting dots that have haunted our family for some time.” Rajna’s voice was raspy with age. “What is it you’d like to discuss?”

Yagrin slid forward on his chair closer to the speaker. “I am helping Nore Ambrose retrieve a piece of parchment that was entrusted to each House a long time ago. My understanding is that the Duncan piece was given to someone in your family after it was disbanded.”

“Did you say Ambrose?”

“Yes.”

“This isn’t about Perl business?”

“I’m no longer affiliated with House of Perl.”

Rajna was silent for a beat too long.

Yagrin’s grip tightened on the edge of his seat. “You know the piece I’m speaking of?”

“I do, but it’s strange having a Perl come around asking.”

“I’m with Nore Ambrose. With her, if you get my gist.”

“It’s true,” Titus said. “Heard all about the Wexton brother who fled House of Oralia. Ghosts and attempted murder in front of a live audience.”

“I see,” Rajna said. “What about it?”

“Where is it?” He went for it. “Nore is Headmistress now and would like it returned.”

“Oh dear. I wish I had better news, especially after you’ve been so generous with us. The Living Scroll is what I’ve heard it called. And that was lifetimes ago. It is gone. It’s been gone.”

Yagrin lost feeling in his hands. “I don’t understand. We’ve found the other pieces. All we need is yours.”

“Yes, we’ve heard this before. Listen, I’m sorry, kid.”

Maybe she was wrong. “What do you know? Start from the beginning.”

Rajna’s voice was muffled a moment as she said something to someone trying to interrupt the call.

“I need to wrap this up. Look, it’s a farce, alright?

” She sighed. “When Sola Sfenti stumbled upon the glowing stones in the dirt in the ancient days, he sent his apprentice back to their village to retrieve help to excavate them. Sfenti was dead by the time the boy returned with help. From then on, the boy made it his life’s work to discover the secrets the glowing stones held.

Generations later, that boy’s descendant assembled a group of five.

Surnames Marionne, Cantion, later changed to Ambrose, Perl, Oralia, and my ancestor, a Duncan. ”

Yagrin’s heart stuttered.

“He told them his ancestor discovered magic and did all kinds of tricks to win their trust. Then he asked them each to keep a piece of a Living Scroll safe, and in exchange, he promised legacy and glory as future leaders in the magic world someday.”

“The House leaders were chosen by popular vote by the Upper Cabinet in the nineteenth century.”

“You think democracy runs the world? Naive for a Perl. Fate is puppet-mastered by those who hold all the power. The victors write history.”

Yagrin shook his head but didn’t dare interrupt again.

“They all agreed and made the deal. Only, the boy called them back together years later, when he was deathly ill, to demand the return of their pieces. He said he needed more time to make good on his promises to create a magical world. This was lifetimes ago. The Houses hadn’t even yet been formed.

Most didn’t even believe magic was real.

The group refused him. He unleashed a dark magic on them, forcing them to agree. ”

“What happened to him?”

“Who knows? But I can assure you the Scroll you’re hunting down on the word of the inaugural Ambrose Headmistress is a fake. The original Scroll was written on goatskin. Not parchment.”

The world blackened at its edges.

“I’d bet you’re collecting replicas.”

“Everyone in the House believes—” But Yagrin’s experience in his aunt’s House shut his mouth.

If enough people believed a lie, it didn’t matter if it wasn’t real.

Yagrin’s mind burned with questions. But his curiosity was snuffed out by the slosh in his gut.

Every House had its own smoke and mirrors to unveil, it seemed.

If this was true, the Scroll was a dead end.

And the only way to save Nore was breaking the Pact with the dead.