Page 32 of Fortress of Ambrose
More Darkbearer attacks.
I swallow. The Darkbearers’ existence iswhythe brotherhood formed forever ago.
“Everyone’s out for themselves. Why shouldn’t we be?”
“Jordan’s different. Check your rumor sources, he absorbed the Sphere’s magic to keep Beaulah Perl from getting it. Willam, he needs a Healer to look at himsoon. Or there won’t be any Order left to build because magic will be gone. This is an opportunity like no other. Youhave tobe able to see that.”
I’ve never cared about the Order before. I’m not sure I care about it now. But Willam needs to be convinced. My mother’s face flutters to mind, blanketing the conversation in a sudden wave of grief. She is all I cared about. Her, my toushana, and Jordan. She slipped through my fingers. And now the rest is trying to.
“If you don’t trust him, bet on me.”
“I’ll say this, the safe houses are hungry for change, Quell.” He glances over his shoulder at the swinging door separating us from the living room where the others are. “Who could stop us from creatingour ownHouses?” He straightens his collar. A tattoo peeks from his top button,hardly visible, with pointed rays or something over where his scar used to be. It must be some kind of new sigil.
“You’ve started your own allegiance?”
“Us and three other safe houses. So far.” And here I thought I could inspire vision as a way to regain his trust. He already has vision. He needs help executing. I’m speechless, proud of them fighting for a place in the magical world to come. And terrified—because Houses breed power. And power breeds monsters.
“I want to know more. If these are to be magical Houses, you’ll need help.”
“Later.” He leans forward. “I want to tell Knox my own way, in my own time. I’m asking you to be discreet.”
“Fine. But youwillhelp me get a Healer for Jordan.”
He doesn’t speak for several moments. “I’ll think about it and give you an answer this evening.”
He doesn’t fully trust me. But it’s a start.
Fourteen
Jordan
The world is falling apart, and I’m hiding in a barn. Coming here might have been a mistake.
The stench of this place makes me dizzy. I walk the length of the metal building, past a dozen stalls. And in the last one there is a broody mare. Black and sleek with eyes the color of the ocean at night. A Fresian.It’s been years.The horse stares.
Yags and I were boys when we did the circuit. He jumped, and I failed miserably at dressage. My father insisted a man could keep even the unruliest horse in hand. Yags said something at the time that got him backhanded. I broke my arm after a bad fall, trying to show Father I could do just as he expected. That I could be the son he wanted. That was the last time I rode as a boy.
I spit on the ground and turn my back to the horse. She whinnies, but I keep walking until the sound grows distant. There is no sign of Quell. I clench my fist. Then pound it into the wall.
It blackens under my touch.
Toushana moves through me swifter than instinct.
I glare at my hands and assault the wall again. But the faint toushana bleeding from them dissolves. So I beat my fists raw. Remembering how toushana bled out of me suddenly, hurting Quell.I’ll never hold her again.I reach for the feel of warmth blustering around inside me, looking forthe magic I was born with. But the thread of heat that livens in my body is heavier and stronger than anything I’ve ever felt.
The magic that made me who I am is gone.
My heart turns like a stone in my chest. Then it thrums as a grainy sensation races underneath my skin, buzzing through me, gathering near my heart, then spreading to my limbs as the Sphere’s proper magic answers fiercely. With my eyes closed, I focus on the sounds in the air. The gentle sensation of Audior magic, reminiscent of how my own magic used to feel, grows hotter until the hum of magic burns my ears.
Faint whinnies morph into the soft crash of rushing waves. I release the magic, and the scalding feeling that has spread to my face begins to cool. But I smile at the Sphere’s proper magic answering at first call. Maybe I’m not completely done for.
My side aches where the flesh has begun to waste away. Despite it, I pull at the jolt of magic again, wondering if I can use the Sphere’s magic to do the kinds of magic I used to have. It answers. I urge the earthy feeling up through my chest and into my head, holding my breath, until I feel like an inflated balloon. My lips lose feeling first. Then the Anatomer magic sends a rush of heat across my cheeks, and they numb.
My hands find my face, following the curve of my shifting cheekbones, then my hairline. The pain in my body intensifies. Despite the loss, this is the most I’ve felt like myself in months. I tighten my fist and dig harder for the parts of myself that feel familiar. My eyes shift farther apart and thin as my Anatomer magic takes over. When I’ve transformed, I exhale.
When the numbness fades, I collapse against the barn wall, half-worried using magic is making things worse and half-relieved I can still reach proper magic, despite the toushana feeling so much stronger.
An idea strikes me, and it twists like a dagger in my gut. I was an Audior, an Anatomer, and a Shifter.But with the Sphere’s magic, could I do any magic?I peel myself off the wall. Retentor magic requires an imbued stone, which I don’t have. But I could try the other one: Cultivating.Cultivators augment magic in others, using rings with stones full of magic.I shouldn’t need rings. The magic is inside me. I am the stone. I stare again at my hands, blinking.
