Page 75 of Fortress of Ambrose (House of Marionne #3)

Fifty-Nine

Jordan

I gape at shadows dripping from my fingertips as the veil settles against the wooden doors to the ballroom. Everyone’s stares burn my skin. But all I can see is the house where I grew up in a heap of ash.

My father is dead.

And my mother is—

The thought chokes me. My brother is as good as gone.

And now Dexler’s been caught up in this mess.

Worst of all, the life I wanted for Quell is slipping through my hands.

Toushana pumps so steadily in my veins, the world’s colors dull.

The Dragunhead was in Tippets Square that day, watching, delighted because he knew. He must be stopped.

“Jordan, what are you doing?” Quell rushes over.

“Someone in this room is working with the Dragunhead. They’re cornered now.”

“Some of these people we know weren’t—” she starts, but my voice booms above hers as cold cracks in my chest.

“Maezre Dexler has been attacked, and a precious artifact full of the Sphere’s proper magic has been stolen from Quell’s room.

” The room gasps. “No one is leaving until we find the thief!” The widening eyes speed up the thud of my heart.

If they fear, they will cooperate. If they cooperate, we will find the traitor. I won’t take risks with Quell’s life.

“Form a line, shoulder to shoulder. Children, too.”

Ube shoves himself between a mother and her son.

The liar, backstabber, dead man. I know he’s behind this.

Make a memorable example, and no one will forget it.

I can hear my aunt’s voice, and cold hums in me.

He should die in the most painful way. I never trusted him, but I didn’t expect him to outsmart me right under my nose.

Because you’re weak. My father’s chastising haunts me.

I try to push away the dark thoughts, but there is truth to them. I am weak. I should have known to keep a close eye on him. On everyone. I was too merciful at the start. Mercy is best used as a weapon. My aunt’s rearing scrapes at my skull, and the toushana billowing around me thickens.

I glare at Ube. Fairness is a perception.

A powerful one. We still have to run a successful extraction with these people, and it’s important to Quell to smooth things over.

Instead of marching right up to him and ripping his head off his neck, I start at the beginning of the line and take my time, approaching the first person, a middle-aged woman in a mint-green dress with silver stitching and a big, fluffy skirt.

“Empty your pockets.”

“My gown does not have pockets.”

“I thought all dresses have pockets.”

“They should, but they do not.”

“Strange. Lift your arms.”

She does, and her dress bust is fitted to her so tightly, there is no place she could hide a jeweled headband.

“You.” I indicate to a girl with thin, long braids beside her. “What is your name?”

“Imalia.”

“Imalia, pat her down.”

She hesitates but hurries over. What happened to Dexler can’t happen to anyone else, especially Quell.

“I didn’t steal anything, I swear,” the lady says, turning red as fat tears roll down her cheeks. I believe you, I want to say.

“Underskirt off. She could be hiding a dozen diadems under there.”

People shuffle, muttering under their breath.

“No moving! No speaking!”

“Jordan, no,” Quell says.

The ballroom is silent. Imalia reaches under the woman’s gown and unties her pettiskirt.

It falls to her feet. She kicks it away, and I decay it down to ash to be sure there is nothing there.

She pulls off the outer layers of her dress, checking each one, until she’s in a thin undergown. “Spread your legs. Now pat.”

“She doesn’t have anything,” Imalia says. The woman holds her face, sobbing. I offer her my handkerchief.

“Jordan, stop this, right now!”

“Quell, you understand how serious this is. Stand aside.”

“Search Yaniselle.” She pulls her from the lineup. “Don’t harass these people for nothing when we both know who the liar is here!”

“You stupid girl,” Yani spits. “Ube was missing for twenty minutes during the ball. He came down the stairs from the third floor, then to Sunrise Corridor.”

“Which you only know because you snuck out there, too!”

Ube steps out of the line. “I was checking on the extraction lab to make sure everything was okay. What were you doing out there?”

“The lab doesn’t require you to go to the third floor, liar.” Yani tries to wrestle herself from Quell’s grip. But she shakes her still.

“Imalia, keep checking down the line.” I snatch Ube by the collar, relieved he just made this painful process more efficient.

“Imalia, you will not!” Quell yells. The girl hooks her hands. The dark magic around us grows with my agitation. Shadows spill from Quell’s hands as she marches up to me.

“They already feel like prisoners!” I can feel her frustration tangled like a nest inside me, and it feels like my heart being ripped in two.

“The traitor may not be working alone. How clever would the thief be if they hid the diadem on themself? We have to pull out roots with the weeds. Or this place is not safe. You are not safe. There’s no other way now.

Don’t you see? The only way to protect you is to find the thief!

There’s no Scroll to save your life, Quell.

I can’t”—my voice cracks—“lose another—”

She holds her chest, where she feels the storm raging inside me. “What do you mean?”

“The Scroll pieces were collected centuries ago by someone on their deathbed. They’ve probably used it, for all we know. It’s a lost cause. The history books are a lie. It’s all a lie.”

All eyes in the room are on me. My side throbs so hard it unsteadies me. I hold the spot where it hurts. “Everyone is searched. If you’re innocent, you have nothing to fear.”

When Willam steps forward, my thread of patience breaks.

“Get back in line!”

But Willam gestures for Knox to join his side, and she does. Dimara and Kedd follow, along with the twins. “We had nothing to do with this.” He circles them up, putting himself between me and them. “We want no part in any Order you’re building.”

Quell still holds on to Yani, but glares at me with disappointment I haven’t seen on her face in a long time. It threatens to knock my knees from under me. But she is not safe, people are getting hurt, and time is ticking on my life. Someone has to make the hard decisions, even if it’s unpopular.

“Leave here and I will hunt you down myself,” I tell Willam before releasing Ube and approaching Yani.

If Yani’s the culprit, which I doubt, Willam’s crew have nothing to do with the theft.

They hate each other. But if Ube’s guilty, as I suspect, he could have gotten his claws into Willam. Especially Willam.

I search Yani myself as Quell insists. But she has nothing on her.

I finally move back to Ube, and to my great surprise he has nothing on him either.

When Imalia and I finish checking the entire line, everyone stares at me, the raging fool.

I glare at the ground. All this and the diadem isn’t even here.

Cold seizes in me.

Worthless. Inept. Useless.

The world is falling apart because it’s in my hands.

One of them did this! I ask Yani directly, “What were you doing in the Sunrise Corridor?” I watch for her tells of dishonesty.

“When I left the ballroom, I saw Ube heading that way, so I followed him.” She answers without a flinch or touching her hair.

Toushana stalks through me.

End him.

Prove you’re not a failure.

“I didn’t see anything in his hands,” Yani says. “But he probably had it hidden under his clothes or something. And now he’s put it somewhere.”

“Why were you on the third floor?” I ask him. He looks beyond me, at his sister. “I saw Yani go upstairs, so I followed her. But I lost sight of her and was looking for where she’d gone. I assumed the lab.”

“Erla, what do you know?”

His sister joins our interrogation circle.

She tugs at the sleeve of the bright blue dress she’s wearing. “I saw them both leave the ballroom. That’s all.”

“Who left first?”

She hesitates. But her eyes sweep in the direction of her brother.

“He did.”

I knew it. That lying snake. Ube shouts something at her in Latin that I miss.

“I will not lie,” she says to him, and my mind is made up. He will die for stealing the Sphere’s magic and nearly killing a maezre. I pull Erla away from the line of guests, out of earshot of her brother. “How savvy are you on the extraction procedure?”

“I’ve worked side by side with my brother.”

“Leave here, go straight to the lab, alone. I will meet you there. You will lead the extraction from now on.” I grab my fire dagger and tear through the icy barrier at the door.

She shares a wordless, forlorn look with her brother before departing.

“And me, sir?” Ube asks.

“Just another moment,” I tell him before taking Yani aside, dark magic curling inside, nestling beneath my withering ribs. Each day we put this procedure off lessens my chances of surviving.

“You will go to Triveyna and search for the ring stones we need. You have forty-eight hours. Any longer, I’ll assume you’ve betrayed me.”

She’s not trustworthy in all things, but with this she’s desperate to prove herself. I can allow her this errand. We’re out of options and low on time.

“Everyone line up at the north door to be taken to your rooms. No one leaves for any reason until the culprit is found.”

I shred the veil as the line shuffles to form at the door. Willam shoves past me with his people, hurrying out. I’ll have to deal with him later. Quell is with Ube, waiting for me.

“Jordan, I’d like to question him,” she says.

“No use. He lied to me. He’s a dead man.”

Ube breaks out in a sweat. He stares, terrified. “Okay! I took it, alright?” His hands fly up in surrender. “I figured you might search us, so I hid it in the lab beneath the supplies. Dexler was there already. I made her tell me where to look.”

Quell gasps.

“The Dragunhead told Zecky he wanted that diadem, and I—”

I grab him by the throat. “The Dragunhead’s eyes aren’t welcome inside these walls.

” Shadows bite at my fists, begging to rip through my hands.

“Ube, by the authority of the New Order, I sentence you to die for stealing the world’s magic with ill intent.

For assaulting an innocent and leaving them to die.

And for aiding and abetting the Dragunhead, who is working against the Headmistress of the House you’re standing in. ”

He’s as rigid as a fish on a hook. Quell’s heart rams in both our chests as she stares, speechless.

“He will sleep in confinement and be executed at sunrise to honor Sola Sfenti. A symbol to all who are watching. Including the Dragunhead.”

I lock Ube in the basement, restrained with a cuff harness that keeps his hands pinned to his sides. Then I meet Erla in the lab alone, as I instructed. By the time I arrive, the deadly toushana inside me has settled. She works fusing together a circle of metal with a murky brown stone.

“What are you making?”

“I mentioned to my brother some time ago that we should test the procedure on metal and gems. The mix of the substances is a good model for an ancient relic.”

“Yaniselle will return with something soon.”

Erla purses her lips.

“Why’d you rat out your brother?”

“I didn’t squeal on anyone. I just don’t agree with lying. Zecky was very dishonest, and my brother admires that sort of thing. I do not.”

“Is that why you don’t like Yani?”

She looks up from her work. But she doesn’t say anything before returning to what she was doing.

“She is retrieving the stones from Triveyna. If there’s something I need to know about Yani or your brother, now is the time to tell me.”

“She’s had it out for me since we met, trying to get close to my brother. I see right through her. You know everything I know about Yani. I find your choice to trust her risky.”

“My options are slim. Another question. What do you know about ring forging?”

“Rings? Like Cultivator rings?”

“Precisely. Yani will be retrieving ring stones, not a relic.” With no way to reach Lady Ruby, rings are our best bet. Housing toushana inside rings will make it easier to manage access to it. Once it’s in trustworthy hands, it’ll be impossible for one person to steal or possess all of it.

“An ancient relic would be much more secure because of how old the magic is.” She sets a hand on her hip. “We can try rings. I forged a few with Zecky. But spreading the magic equally doesn’t work if the stones are not all the same. And you’ll need dozens. There’s a lot of power inside you.”

The list of those I’d give toushana to is short. “When the procedure is done, if I’m—er, uhm, unavailable, give five rings to Quell. Bury the rest securely somewhere.”

She nods. “I will do as you said.”

Because she is painfully honest, my heart thuds easier. “Also, we won’t be extracting all the magic. I want to remain bound to toushana.” If I survive. “But just enough for a single person.”

“You’d like to keep as much as a Darkbearer would have?”

I shift on my feet. “I guess so.” If by some twist of luck I survive, I can deal with the Dragunhead. If I die, dark magic dies with me. And while I hate that Quell would lose her magic, the Dragunhead and Darkbearers would lose theirs, too.

She will be safe.

“You need to fly on your own more often,” I tell Erla.

She tries to hide a smile.

“Now run trial extractions moving dark magic from one stone to another, increasing the amount of dark magic each time. Use whatever you have. Do it over and over until it doesn’t implode.

Ideally, none would be lost. No one should get hurt.

It needs to be perfect. Do it fifty times if you must. We need the procedure ready to go the minute Yani returns. ”

She swallows. “That could take all night.”

“You better get started.” I find a seat at a table in the corner.

Quell won’t like me deciding on the rings without her.

But time is running out. I try but fail to get more comfortable in the metal chair, thanks to the persistent pain in my side.

Once I have found a position that works, I pull out an envelope and paper.

My pencil hits the paper, but I’m not sure what to write.

When a tear breaks free, rolling down my face, the words begin to flow.

Dear Mother,

I hope this letter reaches you and that you got away somehow.

I just have been meaning to say that I’m sorry we don’t talk much.

Father’s shadow always loomed like a storm cloud.

It was hard to do anything other than hide from the next boom of thunder.

I have failed you as a son. But I’d like to start being a better son now, if you think that’s okay. I understand if not.

Please write back and just let me know that you’re okay. If there is anything I can do to help you, I want to.

Yours,

“Jordy”