Page 20 of Fortress of Ambrose
“I have seen worse days. It’s actually been quiet the last several weeks.”
The brotherhood just left them here to die. My stomach turns. I search my pockets for some morsel of food orsomethingbut realize I have nothing.
“We have to get you out of here.”
“Mm, not so sure that’s in my best interest.” Knox turns her attention to Jordan, who is hovering near the door. “Mr.Wexton, am I correct that you’ve finally accepted your fate?”
“We need your help.” Jordan tucks his dagger away. “We can talk about my fate later.” The strain in his voice rattles my pulse. “You have to come with us.”
“Please,” I add.
She moves closer to Jordan and grabs a fistful of his shirt before he can resist. He swallows hard, and I can’t tell if it’s irritation or fear. Her chilly blue stare roves his chest.
“You foolish boy!What have you done?” She looks at me. “You went along with this?”
“There was no other choice.” I explain the chaos that happened at Dlaminaugh months ago. But the concern carved around Knox’s eyes doesn’t change. “I didn’t expect you to care what happens to magic.”
“I don’t care about magic. I care about what the threat of its loss will make peopledo.”
Jordan’s gaze hits the ground. “It’s carnage out there.”
Knox exhales sharply. “If one person can steal all of magic, anyone will think they can. The world is after you, boy. You betterrun.”
“We have a plan,” I say. “Show her.”
Jordan lifts his shirt, showing her the wound. She inhales sharply but doesn’t flinch.
“We want to have a safe house Healer heal it. After that we plan to get the magicoutof him and into something else.”
“I couldn’t let Beaulah win,” Jordan says.
“We came here because there is no one else I trust more,” I say.
A clang somewhere on the floor above us shatters the silence.
“Will you come?” Jordan asks.“Please.”
She gazes between us and sighs. “We should get moving.”
Jordan grabs the handles of Knox’s chair and rolls her quickly toward the elevator. We rush inside and up.
Still haunted by what we saw earlier, I whisper, “Whathappened to Maei?”
He tightens his mouth.
“Stop protecting me,” I tell him. “We’re a team.”
When the doors open to the lobby, he says, “Her soul’s been ripped from her body. She was an Ambroser. They’ve advanced magic somehow to allow them to roam postmortem in spectral bodies, the academic texts say. I’ve read they look like shadows to the untrained eye. Whoever killed Maei killed her bodyandher soul so that she can’t come back as one of their ancestors. So that whatever she knows is gone forever.”
I gasp. “How do you kill someone’ssoul?”
“No idea.”
“Who could do that kind of magic?” I ask.
“Someone playing a game we are still learning the rules to.”
Ten
