Page 81 of Fortress of Ambrose (House of Marionne #3)

Sixty-Five

Quell

It takes every single person in the House with any kind of Shifting magic two full days, sunup to sundown, to repair the damage to the dormitories.

Jordan does his part by hand, without rest or magic.

In the meantime, the entire private family floor has been fully opened up for anyone.

The rooms are furnished with double-stacked beds so that there is plenty of space.

I still have the Sphere’s magic to deal with, and I need to figure out the best way to move forward. This is on my shoulders now, but that’s my choice. So it feels different.

After Jordan addressed the group, apologizing profusely, I did as well—for not taking the lead sooner. I told everyone they’re welcome to stay and help save the House and join it officially, magic or not. Or they can leave. No one will stop them.

Ultimately, people have a choice to make.

How do I covet freedom for myself but not fight for it for everyone?

I can’t anymore. We have so much left to do, but if freedom is my legacy, it won’t be just for me.

Maybe that’s why my grandmother did what she did.

Maybe that’s why my mother serves where she serves: to give others choices they wouldn’t otherwise have.

I have the power to give everyone here a choice. So I did.

I’d expected most to bolt the minute I undid their cuffs. But only a few left. Everyone was so shaken up and unsure where to go with the Dragunhead on the loose. There was also a fair amount of relief that Dexler’s attacker is out of the house. Many have stayed, deciding to give me a chance.

While the House worked on repairs, I spent that time listening to the concerns of those who are still here to better understand how a new Order could serve wider needs that include everyone.

It was interesting to hear that some of them have no desire for magic at all.

Others are very curious and enjoyed the magic classes Dexler had put together.

We spent last night drumming up all kinds of ideas about safe houses.

Willam even attended the meeting. Though he sat in the back and just listened, it felt like a step in the right direction.

We haven’t spoken since everything happened.

My first order of business today is to talk to Willam and Knox about my plans to save magic. I need their help. And their forgiveness.

Jordan has a ticking time clock on his life.

And the Scroll is a dud.

I stroll the hall toward the stairs. If someone on their deathbed got the Immortality Scroll, they used it.

And if they used it, they are still alive somewhere.

The only way to defeat death is immortality.

And if the immortal is findable, maybe their blood would do the trick?

A transfusion, perhaps, with Jordan’s blood at the same time as we run an extraction?

I rub my clammy hands on my clothes. I can’t help but see all the glaring holes and potential problems in my plan.

It feels like holding on to a balloon with too much air.

I have more questions than answers. But this time at Chateau Soleil has made me realize, we are stronger together.

If we can focus on what unites us, we just might survive.

For the first time in a while, it feels like magic, and Jordan, might actually have a chance.

When I reach the first floor, I spot him. He walks beside me so close our arms brush.

“Ready?” he asks, and I smile tightly.

“How is today?” I ask him, as I have each morning the last couple of days.

“Yellow with some blues.” Between repairing the estate, he’s been spending time alone, sifting through the wreckage of his past, looking for ways it’s still on his back.

I’ve started asking how he is doing instead of assuming.

And he’s started digging deep for an honest answer, even when it’s not pretty.

He uses colors to describe his mood. It is easier for him to be vulnerable that way.

“Yellow is good.”

He laces his fingers between mine. We walk in silence toward my office, where Willam and Knox are waiting.

“Don’t be nervous.” He can feel it. “You’ll know the right thing to say.

” He doesn’t offer another word of advice.

He didn’t even ask for the details of my plan when I mentioned this to him yesterday.

He only knows that I asked him to be with me when I unveiled it to Knox and Willam.

I hold his hand tighter, grateful for his complete trust, which only makes me determined to trust myself more.

“How is your pain level?”

He grimaces. His heart might be repairing, but after the damage he did to the dormitories in a rage, the magic rotting the side of his body has spread to his limbs. When we reach my office door, Jordan squeezes my hand.

“Do you mind if I say something first?”

“Sure.”

Willam folds his arms over his chest when Jordan enters the room. I wouldn’t blame Willam if he never wanted to talk to Jordan again. I’m surprised he didn’t haul out of here the first chance he got. Dimara did. But he, Knox, Kedd, and the twins stayed.

We take our seats across from Willam and Knox.

Jordan jumps right in. “Before anything, I want to apologize to you both, face-to-face. Especially you.” He looks right at Willam. “I’ve put everyone through a lot, but I’ve put Willam through hell. I won’t make an excuse for it. I just hope I’ll have the chance to earn your trust again.”

Willam pulls at the collar of his shirt, which is unbuttoned, the Darkbearer tattoo mark not hidden anymore. “You’re one determined bastard. I’m not sure we’ll ever see eye to eye. But you were right, there was a very dangerous traitor among us. I hope your maezre is alright.”

“Still unconscious,” I say.

“You both have a lot on your shoulders,” Willam goes on.

“I could have been more understanding of that. I am grateful Yaniselle was found out before she hurt anyone else. But the one thing we can agree on, Jordan, is that girl right there.” He points at me.

“I’m sorry, Quell, again, for not being up front about our Darkbearer allies.

I realize this is complicated, and it wasn’t right for me to act like it’s simple.

None of this is simple. I believe you want to set things right. And that’s what matters most.”

Knox rubs his knee. “We talked, and we want to see it through.”

“See you through,” Willam adds. “If you’re steering the ship, we’re on board.”

Their trust makes a lump rise in my throat, and no amount of swallowing shoves it down.

“Well,” I say. “That’s a relief, because I need you both. I’m drawing up a declaration. Our House is marching to Dlaminaugh. We need to work more closely with House of Ambrose.” They’re the ones who understand immortality magic better than anyone. I explain my plan.

“Is a magical artifact still needed? We know a Trader who can procure anything. Her name is Lady Ruby.”

Jordan and I share a look.

“We can write to her and ask her to bring what she has to House of Ambrose. She knows us well. She’ll do us this favor.”

We agree on it. It feels good to be on the same side, fully, for once.

“We’re a team,” Knox says, reaching across the table to shake my hand. “I was tough on you at the end. But Rhea’s daughter came through.”

“Quell, call me Quell, please.”

She smiles. “What about everyone left here during the march? This place hasn’t felt like a home for too long.”

“Because the wrong person was leading them,” Jordan says. “It’s your decision, Quell, but could Knox be left in charge, officially, while we’re gone?”

“Exactly what I was thinking. I’ll draw up an addendum to the declaration. Knox Molaudi of the West Coast Molaudis, in my absence, you are acting Headmistress and beneficiary of House of Marionne.”