Page 28 of Fortress of Ambrose
“We’re looking for—”
“Careful,” he warned, recognizing that truth was about to slip from her lips.
Nore’s menacing glare was fixed on Dexler. “You can help us, or we can roll the dice to see whose magic is going to win.”
Dexler fidgeted.
Yagrin held tighter to his magic, hoping Nore knew what she was doing.
“We’re looking for a piece of a very important historical Scroll,” she said. “One that was entrusted to you by my House generations ago.”
Dexler lowered the blade before shooing the others outside. “A member in the Headmistress bloodline has finally arrived to collect. You should have told me. We have the piece.” She ran her hand along the edge of one of the framed maps on Darragh’s wall, the lavender stone on her finger glowing. The glass front of the map vanished, and she reached through the gaping hole where it had been into a hidden safe behind the portrait. Inside was a tear of old paper. She handed Nore the brittle parchment.
Nore clutched her chest as she studied it, feeling the paper, turning it on both sides.
“Well?” Yagrin said.
“It’s it.” She nodded, biting the smile at her lips.
Yagrin tried his hardest but couldn’t help but smile, too. “Well done,” he said under his breath. His heart thundered in the best way. As long as she kept her word to him, and he kept his head clear about her, they would make a good team.
“Don’t doubt me, Yagrin,” she said. “I’m playing to win.”
That she was. It both inspired and unsettled him.
Thirteen
Quell
The address from Audubon takes us to a winding cement drive in the middle of nowhere. Jordan surveys the surroundings before pushing the stable gate open. Knox leads us inside. High noon sun beats down overhead, and by the time we spot an actual house, I’m dripping with sweat. The boarded-up shack is a ranch-style one-story with a dilapidated roof and a horse stable and barn behind it.
The address matches the rusted numbers beside the door. Knox stops several feet from it, and I do, too. Jordan starts to approach, but I urge him away.
“Stand here, beside me.” I point to the windows with their curtains pulled. “They’re watching.”
Nothing happens for some time. But Knox doesn’t move, so neither do I. Finally, the door opens, and out steps Willam, all nearly seven feet of him, in worn jeans and a plaid shirt buttoned all the way to his neck.
“Willam!” I start toward him but realize his eyes are narrowed beneath his wide-brim hat. He hangs a shotgun, barrels open, across his forearm, slipping a bullet into each hole.
“Willam, it’s Knox. I’ve gotten her out.” I clear my throat and give Jordan a warning glance to not even look his way. But Willam’s hard glare doesn’t leave Knox. If he doesn’t let us in, if we don’t get access to their Healers, if this doesn’t work, Jordan is out of options. The Sphere’s toushana is out of options.Iam out of options. “Willam—”
“Hush,girl,” Knox says, sitting taller in her chair. “She is telling the truth. They got me out of the Cells.” She moves toward him.
Willam snaps the shotgun closed and points the barrel at her head. Then mine. Then Jordan’s. When the gun is back on Knox’s face, I notice the windows on the front of the house have jutted open and gun barrels are pointed at each of us.
“Willam, follow protocol,” Knox says.
He flinches, and I’ve never seen the tall, stoic giant look so mean. “Where were you for the last equinox?” he asks her.
“I was with you in the kitchen after one of the twins had just broken their ankle.” Knox leans toward the gun barrel.
The knot at Willam’s throat bobs.
“We spent the whole night icing it down and trying to calm the hounds,” she says. “When the sun rose, we realized the hounds weren’t yelling because they were worried about the twins.”
He lowers the gun.
“They were hollering because a nasty badger had gotten ahold of one of the puppies.”
