Page 27 of Fortress of Ambrose
“I thought you wanted to get out of here without ruffling feathers.”
“I don’t care how we get out of here. I just want that Scroll.” Fire burned in her gray eyes. They were the kind of gray that only existed on rainy days or in a storm. Where the shade changed depending on how long he looked. She could be fearless. In fact, the only time he’d seen her look remotely afraid was when dark clouds rolled in nearby.
“Do you care about this place or something?” She quirked a brow.
“I care about one thing. The Scroll.”
“Well, then, get to it.” She took a few steps backward as he approached.
“Out of the way.” He drew on the magic, still hovering in the air, and thin rivulets of black dripped from his hands. He ran toushana across the wall, and the paneling began to peel like molting skin. He kicked the damaged wall in and found himself in Darragh Marionne’s bathroom. He held out his hand to help Nore through the wall. She eyed it warily and didn’t take it. But she stepped inside, beaming.
Darragh Marionne’s bathroom was stark white and utterly spotless. A bouquet of wilted flowers sat on her vanity. Nore hurried out of the bathroom, and he followed her into a grand bedroom with a generous sitting area. He spotted a row of drawers beneath a bookshelf and tugged on each. Inside were small luggage items. Nore pulled through shelves, knocking books on the floor, overturning whatever she found. Her fingers grazed jewelry laid out on the counter. She took a piece and stuck it in her pocket.
The heir, a petty thief?He chuckled.
“Maybe she has a proper office.” He pushed open the double doors to the room, and it opened up to a sitting room with prim, proper furniture and a fireplace. There were leather-bound books and delicate vases everywhere. Gold-inlaid maps lined the floral-papered walls. Even Darragh Marionne’s curtains sparkled with a glamour and elegance that he’d never seen at Hartsboro.
“There!”
Across the room was a writing desk. He rummaged through the open drawers and tried his magic on a locked one. It wouldn’t budge.
“It’s not here,” Nore said.
“How are you sure?”
Nore pulled a diamond necklace with chunky stones from her pocket. “This is the Fon’t Le Mai. And Darragh just left itouton her table.”
“The phone le what?”
Her mouth puckered to stifle a laugh, but her cheeks rose and he grinned. She handed him the necklace. Their fingertips brushed, and Nore flinched. “This piece was the first replica made of the Regent.”
Yagrin’s brow quirked.
“A one-hundred-forty-carat brilliant-cut diamond owned by the French Crown. Nita Nobu, ancestor ofthisHouse, snuck into a party to get a look at it. She ended up getting in a world of trouble and sprouting the Order’s first diadem. But she did get a look at the necklace, used Shifter magic to make a replica, and sold it. That was the Order’s first source of wealth. A few generations later, one of her successors shiftedanotherreplica as a trophy keepsake. This is pure history. And it was just out on a desk.”
He turned the sparkly jewel in his hands. From what his brother had mentioned during his years as Ward, Darragh was a woman who trusted few. Someone so incredibly full of pride wouldn’t hide things in their personal space. Nore was right: Something from another House, of only legendary value, wouldn’t behiddenhere.
“Has that massive brain of yours figured out where it actually could be?” He handed her the necklace back, careful to not brush her skin this time. She watched his methodical movement, and their eyes met. The air in the room seemed to rise several degrees as they stood there, frozen, watching the closeness of their hands. Yagrin’s throat was dry.
Suddenly, a whoosh ripped the air, prickling his Dragun senses. Yagrin snatched Nore out of the way, pulling her against him just as metal zipped past her face. She gasped.
“Excuseme!” Dexler spat. The maezre held another dagger raised high. Behind her were a half dozen glaring House members. “Put down the Le Mai and step away!”
Yagrin moved backward, pushing Nore behind him. But her nails dug into his arm.
She elbowed him aside. “I am so sick and tired of people trying to kill me!”
“Nore.”He lowered his voice but kept it firm. “Don’t be rash. Too much is on the line.”
“I ought to lock you up!”
“Careful with the threats, old woman.” He pulled on darkness, and though it churned weakly in his grip, Dexler swallowed hard. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he would if she moved that blade an inch closer to either one of them.
“You parade in here pretending to be on our side!”
“I am doing what Quell asked,” Nore said. Yagrin’s ears pricked at the subtle twist of truth. Jordan wanted to save Quell’s life with the Scroll; that’s presumably why they were here. Yagrin had built the deception; she was just driving the nail into the hole. If it took the heat off them in this moment, he couldn’t blame her for it. She marched up to Dexler. “Excuse us for not telling you every single detail. But I’ll have you know what we’re looking for here could save lives.” She set the necklace down. “I was going to give this to Quell.”
Dexler lowered the blade an inch. Yagrin held on to his feeble magic.
