Page 63 of House of Marionne

“Tell me what you’ve done to prepare for honing.”

I bite down, trying to hide my disappointment.

“Honing is difficult, Quell. I hope you’re focused.”

He’s definitely evading telling me what I want to know. But he’s opened up a bit.

“I bet I could be a Dragun.” I scrunch my face in the meanest expression I can muster and push my lips out. “Watch me brood.” I wrinkle my forehead and narrow my eyes before lunging a punch into his arm.

“That actually hurt.”

“Told you.”

“That’s all you think we do is brood and fight?”

“That’s all you show me.”

He shifts on his feet. “So you think that’s all that’s there?”

“I don’t know. But I’ve got those two parts of it down.” I punch him again, and he reaches for my wrist to try to stop me. But I twist away. “Ooo and I’m faster, apparently!”

He reaches for me, but I dart out of his reach in the nick of time. “Would you calm down already? You’re going to draw attention.” He plants his feet, determined not to run.

“Make me.”

He snatches at the air for me again and misses. I run back toward the Tavern, gasping with laughter, and then a cloud of black swallows me. I chill down to my bones as Jordan reappears right in front of my face.

His hand wraps around my wrist. “I win.”

My laughs settle into breathless panting as I realize how little space there is between us. He stares, and it’s like standing too close to a flame.

“Still.” I step back. “I had you for a minute.”

Moonlight illuminates the rigid angles in his face. Each chiseled with absolute precision, rhythmically carved, a work of living art. Suddenly I notice the tiniest scar on his eyelid. And that his nose is ever so slightly crooked. A smile tugs at my lips.

“We should get you some water.”

We walk back to the Tavern in comfortable silence, and I smile the whole way. His lips brush the back of my hand when he tells me good night, and I hold on to the feeling until I’m back in bed.

It feels a bit like playing with fire.

But, more than anything, it feels good.

TWENTY

I wake and there is a gong inside my head. Bang. I steady myself against the dregs of kiziloxer before standing to shake off my deliriousness. Bang. Something flicks at my window. I hurry over, and there is Mom, two stories below in a dark coat, her hair pulled back.

“Mom!”

Abby stirs as I stumble into my shoes and out the door. How did she know where my—the key chain.

Downstairs, the night’s air bites at my heels as I rush to the courtyard below my window. I weave around the maze of tables and chairs to the gate where Mom was just standing. But there is no one there. My heart ticks faster.

“Mom?” The night is silent. Empty. Tears burn my eyes. “Mom!” A dog howls somewhere far away, followed by a chorus of snarls and barking. In the distance I see her, and my heart leaps. She’s a dot against the forest’s edge, sprinting away.

“Mom, wait!” I say, dashing her way.

“No, Quell,” she shouts in a strained voice. She waves her arms, gesturing for me to turn around and not follow her. I don’t understand. I shake my head, unlatching the iron gate to run after her, and a letter with my name tucked between its rods tumbles to the ground.