Page 164 of Fortress of Ambrose
They created enemies to erase their humanity.
Was I not tempted to do the same thing?Fear made me forget the joy of seeing laughter in Stryker’s eyes. The affections between Kedd and Dimara. The terror of being thrown into a world without knowing the rules.
In trying to save the girl I love, I destroyed everyone else’s hope.
And yet it’s hope that I see in Quell’s brown eyes. It’s hope that made me come to House of Marionne in the first place. Hope made me believe that I could save her. Hope does more good than any one person can.
With hope, we are never truly powerless.
It’s hope that sparkles in the black gems of Quell’s diadem. Defiant, rebellious hope. I glare again at my bruises. Hope is how the world changes, not by the power in one person’s hands.
Who am I to make a new world everyone has to live in? How does that make me any different from the monsters I’m trying to escape?
The truth unsteadies me. I curl up on the ground, my heart heavy.
“Jordan?” Quell crosses the damp ground and kneels beside me. She strokes my hair. The tears come harder, and it feels like a rotted dam finally buckling. She pulls my head into her lap and slips something into my hand. A bag of candy. She plucks a green one and offers it to me. I take it with shaky hands.
I don’t have answers.
I don’t have plans.
I’m not sure I have a future.
But I can’t help but feel like this is where true healing begins. I settle my head against her, letting her hold me. And I cry until there are no tears left.
Then I cry some more.
Part Four
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 haveso muchleft 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 theDragunhead 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 givemea 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.
