Page 29 of Fortress of Ambrose
He swipes at his red eyes and folds over her in a hug.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
He hugs her tighter, and Jordan stuffs his hands in his pockets, looking away.
“What did they do to you?” Willam inspects her.
“I’m fine.”
He glares at Jordan, who sticks out his hand. “I’m Jordan Wexton, thirteenth—”
“We can explain everything,” I say. “Inside.”
“He’s not coming in, Quell,” Willam says, eyes pinned on Jordan, who has taken his hand back.
“Let him in. Put him in the safe room,” Knox says. “The way we’d do any visitors.”
“Respectfully, in your absence, this safe house is run by me now,” he tells Knox before turning to Jordan. “Your kind aren’t welcome here.”
“This is ridiculous,” Jordan says. “I’m no longer your enemy. Ibroughtyou Knox. That has to count for something.”
“You’re also the soulless monster who captured her.”
Jordan’s nostrils flare.
“There is only so much I can do,” Knox says to me, and my heart sinks. “I’ve been out too long.” She heads inside, and with her goes any hope I had of this going smoothly.
“Youmustlisten. Jordan has absorbed the entire Sphere’s magic. It’s inside him.Mymagic. Everyone’s! But it’s killing him. We have to get it out.”
“Is your memory that short, girl? I don’t care about the Order, the brotherhood’s prize pony, ormagic. I care about the people between the walls of that house. You can come in. But he stays out.”
“Sir—” Jordan starts.
Willam raises his gun.
“Shut up, Jordan,” I say. “Please, we have nowhere else we can go. You can’t just leave us out here to die. The magic is killing him. Isn’t this a place where people—”
“It’s not personal, Quell.”
“Itispersonal!”
“I’m sorry, Willam,” Jordan says.
“You were doing your job; I’m doing mine.” He turns his back on us and disappears inside with Knox.
I march toward the stables at the back of the property. “Come on.” When we’re alone and out of sight, I tell Jordan, “They have no reason to let you in.”
“I understand that. But I loathe the Order just as much as they do now. Our interests align.”
“To know so much, you know so very little about some things. Jordan, you could never hate the Order as much as they do. Look around.”
He walks the rest of the way in silence. We reach the barn, where two horses graze.
“You have to show them who you are. Tell them about what happened to you at Hartsboro.”
He’s silent.
“People learn a lot about a person by their battle scars.”
