Page 38 of Fortress of Ambrose
Her hood fell when she turned to leave, exposing the bone behind her ear, where there was a tiny mark: the cracked column for House of Perl.
But this sigil was wrapped in a vine of thorny roses.
She turned and caught him staring. “All that was broken by Mother’s reign will bloom again under mine.” She hurried off.
Sixteen
Nore
The sky darkened outside the library as Nore stood near its doors looking for Yagrin. Adola exited without a glance in her direction. Nore followed her out, at a distance. But despite her suspicions, the girl walked alone down the street for several blocks before disappearing around a corner. The sidewalk filled with people carrying umbrellas, but not a drop of rain fell from the sky. And it wouldn’t because this wasn’t bad weather. The dead were coming.
Yagrin.
Just as she thought his name, he burst through the doors of the library. She waved him over.
“Hurry.”
They rushed down the steps, when the sight of dark, shadowed figures curdled her blood. Yagrin froze beside her.
“What? What is it?”
But she was speechless as darkness billowed above her, separating from itself like storm clouds being ripped apart. Her ancestors descended like an army from the sky, shards of black slamming into the street like roadblocks. She’d never seen so many before.
Is Ellery doing this? Getting more of them to come after me?
Yagrin tugged at her sleeve, but his words were drowned by a car crashing into a shadow of nothing. The vehicle’s front was crushed on impact.The dead didn’t move as people rushed to pull the driver out. Cars swerved around the accident. Screams tore at her ears. Shattered glass covered the asphalt, and shadows drew a message in the wreckage.
Soon
“There are so many more of them,” she said.
“Who?”
She couldn’t keep this secret anymore. Not when they were so good at finding them. She blew out a sharp breath and explained how some ancestors were able to die in their natural bodies but allow their souls to roam as spectral spirits around the estate, tethered to life.
She didn’t mention the Pact. Or the glass box, where the Headmistress’s heart was kept. She didn’t want to give him any reason to be suspicious of her helping him.
“Why are they looking foryou?” he asked.
When her mother died, it would be her turn to honor the Pact by putting her heart in the glass box.
When the dead realize it is magicless…
That I can’t fulfill the Pact…
I am dead.
It’ll be quick and painless, like falling asleep. I’ll bring you back immediately, I swear.Her brother’s words as they stood over the grave still felt like a sword through her chest. He wanted her to let him kill her so he could then murder their mother. Headship would pass to him, and he promised to bring her back with the Scroll. When she refused him, he turned on her.
Fear thickened Nore’s throat.Will it hurt to die?Her eyes stung. But she clenched her fist. She had no intention of finding out anytime soon.
But she couldn’t tell Yagrin any of this. He already suspected her of being dishonest. Giving him any clue she had a motive to steal the Scroll for herself would ruin everything.
“What is it?” he pressed as emergency response wailed in the distance.
“I”—she patted her pockets—“thought I left something. But I have it.” She bit her lip. The throng of dead still hadn’t moved, voids of darkness with the loose shape of a person were scattered eerily on the street like soldiers standing sentry. “I hope that person in that car is okay.” She turned and rushed off.
Yagrin stuck with her pace. She led him around a corner, then another, but the storm streamed behind them. She couldn’t outrun the dead. She clawed at her skin, wishing she could peel it off as she picked up to a run. When they crossed an intersection, Yagrin threw his hand in the air, and a driver came to a swerving stop. He opened the door and they slid inside.
