Page 176 of Fortress of Ambrose
“Areya Paru is the Mother of Magic.”
“That’s what they called her for trying to protect her ancestors’ legacy. A legacy that she didn’t understand and never asked for. I always found her honorable.”
Cold writhes in me. “And do you always find yourself that way?” I bite my tongue too late.
“I am sorry, Quell. I am very sorry.”
My next thought abandons me, and I manage a feeble “Thank you.” I clear my throat. It is small. It is probably a lie. But it is something. Andfor everything I’ve been through, my mother’s been through, Jordan’s been through, an apology is nice. Even a fake one.
“Your mother wouldn’t hear a word about your name. It was Raquell. Period.” He smiles, and I stare at the ground. He is good at pretending. Practiced at it for centuries. None of his sentiment is real.
“So then, tell me, what should I call you?”
He steeples his hands. “You can call me whatever you like. I was born Yaque Paru, eldest son of Noriana Paru and eldest grandson of Areya Paru. I was born on Daughter’s Den Isle and lived there, escaping by pirate ship with the magic my mother managed to save by seeking asylum there. The island was a graveyard when I left. Cut off from the rest of the world, your books call it the—”
“Den of Bones.”
“Yes. I have lived through horrors you cannot imagine.”
I swallow my sharp retort and instead angle my body away from Nore to face out toward the empty concrete seats, hoping he maneuvers to stand beside me. “It’s a beautiful ceremony, don’t you think?”
“You are the spitting image of your mother.” He stares at my profile, unmoved. “I was deeply sorry to hear about what happened to her.”
I can see my mother’s face, the real tears in her eyes over cherished lies.
“You should have told her. It’s very hard for me to act like you didn’t break her heart.”
“You don’t have to pretend, Quell. Be angry. I am angry at many things I’ve done in my time. Do you know how many mistakes a person makes in a hundred lifetimes? They will haunt me forever.” He pulls a bauble out of his pocket, a gold chain with two dangling hearts. One with anNand one withQ.
I look away.
“I deserve nothing but your contempt. But can I at least tell you how we got to this point?”
Unable to think of a single reason to not listen, I gesture for him to go on.
“It started as a plan to fix things. Magic was never good or bad. It was its own power with a diversity of uses. Both magics had a role and place, and they exist besttogether. Ever since the secret of magic leaked, greed burned hot in people. Misa rose. The Uppers were established, which came with more regulations about what magic was and who could use it. People and governments alike were consumed by the power magic could give them. I watched it all. Can you imagine the responsibility I felt? Knowing it wasmygrandmother who fled to protect magic. It was her direct ancestor who had found magic in the first place. I had to fix it. I know you’ve felt that pressure before.”
I don’t respond. But I also can’t move, taking all of this in. He is not who I thought he would be. Much of what he says makes so much sense.
“When Misa fell,” he goes on, “people were murdered by the thousands. Families fled into hiding. I helped set up the House system, picking the families who I trusted to have a House in their name. Making good on promises I’d made to their ancestors centuries before. Some Houses were to be instituted right away; others, for the sake of the appearance of democracy, would need to be established in time. But even the House system grew unwieldy. And toushana became more shamed. So I thought of a scheme, I’ll be honest, toforcemagic to exist in balance.”
I watch him, still unable to move, not believing my ears.
“I remember the glory of ancient magic, the magic my family died for. That power lives in me. And magic is in the blood now, so to pass it on I had to have a child. I decided there would be two. One with a ferocious toushana. And another with brilliant mwertae magic—its ancient name—like the world has never seen. But genetics are not as easily controlled as magic. My first daughter never showed magic.” He again looks at Nore, whose lips are now slightly parted.
Breath sticks in my chest.
“And my second,” he continues, seeming not to notice, “was caught in a system that wanted to kill her. It tookquitethe scheming to make sure I was selected to be in charge of the brotherhood to oversee things.”
“Manyhave died or lived their lives in fear because of your command.”
“In the grand scheme of centuries, what are a few hundred? I can save those who matter. And I did. I became Dragunhead to makesureyou and Norelived.”
“Youwant credit for saving me? No, my grandmother and mother did that.”
“That is fair. But can’t you see? I want what you want, a world where toushana is free.”
I meet his eyes, overcome with a feeling I don’t know what to do with. “So what do you want now? Because you’re working with your son, who tried to kill your daughter.”
