Page 136 of Fortress of Ambrose
“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.Withher, 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. Thevictorswrite 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.
Fifty-Four
Nore
Nore ripped her covers off in the middle of the night. She pulled her robe on and walked to the window. The gate was closed. There were no fresh footprints in the snow. Yagrin still hadn’t returned.
