Page 182 of Fortress of Ambrose
“It’s working.”
The Dragunhead grunts. It morphs to a moan. Then he thrashes on the bed, trying to sit up. He claws at the tubes. I throw my body across his, pressing him down to the table.
“Hurry! Help me pin him down.”
He groans louder this time, clawing at anything he can reach as Abby and Yagrin hold down his ankles. Isla grabs him by the hair. He howls in pain.
“Jordan,moremagic. As much as you can!” I anchor my body down across my father, holding on to the underside of his bed.
The Dragunhead grabs my throat. His grip is iron.
“You!”His speech slurs, the magic taking hold. I can’t breathe. I claw at his wrists. My eyes burn, and my throat begs for air. He squeezes so tight the world darkens. I dig my nails deeper into his wrists, tearing at his skin. If I am dying, I am taking as much of him with me as I can.
Yagrin drives his elbow into the Dragunhead’s throat. He wails, his grip on my neck slipping, and I gasp for air. I blink the world back into focus.
Shadow Cell magic still rushes through the tube toward him. When a gush of magic siphons into him, he bucks on the table, trying to fight it.
“Hold him tight!” I choke out, my lungs refilling as I pin down one of his arms. Nore grits her teeth. Isla double-wraps his hair around her arm.
The Dragunhead tries to resist my hold, but his movements grow clunky. After several moments, I can feel his muscles relax beneath me. He exhales and sinks into the table, his arms dangle at his sides, then their swaying grows stiff. Until they stop moving completey. His mouth sags as the last bit of fight goes out of him.
“Now!”
Erla rushes over. She widens the opening of the tube so his blood flows faster into Jordan. Abby dribbles a clear liquid down the Dragunhead’s open mouth.
“It’s a sleeping draught,” she says. “I don’t know how long it will work or if it will work at all. But it can’t hurt.”
Foam bubbles at his lips. We release him. And to my great relief the monster doesn’t move. His chest rises shallowly, but the rest of him is as rigid as death. Nore exhales. Then she spits in his face before collapsing in her mother’s hug.
“Jordan,” I say, noticing his face has nearly drained of all color.
“He doesn’t have long,” Abby shouts. “This excess toushana needs to go somewhere before it forces its way into his bones.”
Erla grabs me. “There are no rings.”
I take the dagger from Abby but freeze. All toushana inonething makes it too easy to steal.
It sounds like a thousand voices in the room talking at the same time.
“Quiet!”I can figure this out. I can get us out of this mess. If only I could>— Isla shakes Nore by the arm, trying to get her to think of something.
And it hits me.
As long as magic is in one thing or one person, it will be coveted.
The Sphere’s magic—the locus of control ofallmagic—has to be ineveryone.
That’s the only way to level the playing field and give everyone a fighting chance. First, we need to distribute the Sphere’s toushana. Giving it to everyone in the Order sounds impossible…
But Isla Ambrose did it.
And Darragh Marionne used it as a cover story because she knew it was possible. I pace in a circle, tuning out the rising arguments. Winkel is trying to convince Nore to bring Kimper in.
“Isla!” I pull Nore’s mother aside, who is still wiping away grief from her cheeks. “I need to know exactlyhowyou poisoned Nore by accident. What did you do?”
She sniffles. “I, um, I folded enhancer stones into a dagger that were supposed to awaken magic. I used a dagger because they can hold large amounts of magic. We fold hundreds of enhancers into them. It seemed like the best choice. The enhancers folded in nicely enough. But then Ilet the blade touch her blood, and I—I knew something was wrong right away. Magic drained from the metal like a sieve into Nore. In seconds, black dripped from her fingers.”
“And now, because magic is in the blood,” I say, realizing this is the key, “it can pass down genetically.” This is how we share the Sphere’s magic nowandkeep it alive in all Marked for generations to come. “This isgreatnews!”
