Page 45 of Fortress of Ambrose
“Leavemy mother out of this,” I say.
“Telluswhat you want.” Jordan folds his arms. “What do you picture the Order looking like, if you had a say?”
“To be clear, the offer was that wewouldhave a say if we helped you.” Willam’s finger stabs the table.
“That’s not an answer to my question,” Jordan retorts, and I shift in my seat.This is going sideways.
“Clarity is important,” Willam says.
“It was just an idea I threw out,” I say.
“Which is my choice to refuse or accept,” Willam says. “And I am still chewing on it all.”
“She can’t offer things that are not hers to give,” Jordan says.
I glare at Jordan. The tension in the room is sharper than a knife. Knox whispers something to Willam.
“We are no longer willing to be hunted,” Willam says.
“That’s a brotherhood decision,” Jordan says.
“Aren’t you the face of the brotherhood?” Knox says.
“Hardly,” Jordan says.
“Regardless”—Willam leans forward—“we expect this new version of the Order will grant safe houses the right to form our own Houses.”
“I don’t see why you being allowed to have official Houses is our concern at all,” I say. “Jordan, we don’t care. Tell them we don’t care what they do.” I smile tightly. We need some kind of support, and right now they’re the only ones open to helping us.
“I don’t care what you do,” Jordan says. “Or Knox. Or the others here. But I can’t give you a blanket pass for anyone in a safe house. That goes against everything I believe is right.”
Willam slaps the table. “I guess we have our answer!”
“No, hear me out,” he goes on. “There are dangerous people in safe houses. You can’t deny that. People who make a sport of hurting others. For centuries, Darkbearer descendants have hidden in safe houses. And now, some of them are resurfacing, committing crimes like their predecessors. The Sixth Ward. The others in the papers.”
Willam glares. Knox purses her lips.
“He’s saying we trust you,” I say. “But we can’t trust everyone because we trust you.” I try to sit straighter and realize my hand is cemented to the edge of the coffee table.
Jordan goes on. “The Dragunheadisout there somewhere. He tried to kill me. Iknowmy aunt is plotting to turn this chaos in her favor somehow. I can only do so much with the Order when its old leaders are still in power.”
He isn’t wrong. The Houses have been silent. Only Isla Ambrose issued a formal statement after the Sphere was destroyed. The front page headline heralded her House for their “deep commitment and pioneering intellect” as they study up on new uses of magic that could be helpful in finding the guilty culprit or aiding in restoring magic to a safe location.
“I’ll need time to act on any of thisafterI’m healed.”
“You possessallof magic—you can do whatever you want whenever you want,” Willam says.
“That’s not leadership. Which is precisely why I am in charge and you are not.”
The tension in the room grates. This bargaining isn’t working. Willam doesn’t trust me. And he isn’t going to start trusting Jordan if he doesn’t fully trust me, because I brought Jordan here and am vouching for him. The only way to prove I’m trustworthy is to put something on the line. I shoot up from my seat. “Look—the way magic exists isn’t equitable or fair. I spent most of my life on the run. You’ve been forced to live the same way. Saving dark magic is a shift from the way things have been done. It’s a change in a good direction for both of us. Can we all agree on that?”
Heads nod around the table.
“Bringing Jordan here was a risk. If Yani could follow us, others could.” A question burns in Jordan’s eyes, but I ignore it. I know what I have to do. “We need to get everyone here behind the walls of an estate with more protections in place. It’s more secure.”
Knox sits up, her eyes widening.
“You’re saying, relocate to…”
