Page 57 of Fortress of Ambrose
“We don’t even know whatyou thinkabout us having our own House,” Willam says. “I mentioned that to you, Quell, and you haven’t evenbrought it up.” He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “You bring us here for safe haven, but now you’re questioning how useful we can be.”
“And you think I’m overstepping,” Jordan mutters.
“We don’t want to beabsorbedby your House.” Willam stands. “We want a real say. Otherwise, we will leave. We have other safe houses ready to help.”
“Sit down, Willam,” Knox says impatiently. But he pounds his fists on the desk.
“Sit.”Knox rubs her temples.
He does, fuming. “I meant what I said.”
“You’re nervous about trusting us,” Jordan says.
“People who have persecuted us ourentirelives,” Willam spits.“Yeah.”
“I am growing tired of him,” Jordan tells me, shadows behind his eyes. “What have you done to showusyou’re trustworthy? The one thing we’ve asked of you, you haven’t done.” Jordan’s hand moves to his side, and he flinches slightly. He huffs, exasperated, and storms out.
Now it’s my fist pounding the desk. I understand Willam’s hesitation. I didn’t love Jordan’s delivery. But Willam’s resistance to healing Jordan and saving magic makes no sense. This has gone far enough. “Houses or no Houses, none of it matters if magic islost. Jordan isdying.Will you really do nothing?”
Knox is on the edge of her seat. All eyes are on me.
I stand and shove my chair to the table. “A relationship starts with a step,” I say. “I’ve made one. It’s your turn. Summon your Healer. Until then, there’s nothing to discuss.”
I leave them there. I have to stick to my convictions. We need a Healer. And fast. If that makes me a bad person in Willam’s eyes, so be it.
Twenty-Four
Jordan
It’s been an entire day since I stormed out of the meeting with Willam, and I’m still on edge. My side is bothering me, so I haven’t left my room, haven’t seen Quell. And Abby hasn’t shown up either. I hope she’s alright.
The sun sets outside my window as cold moves through me, scratching my bones. I adjust the way I’m sitting, but it doesn’t help. So I get up and pace. Each step makes the space beneath my ribs ache more. When I pull up my shirt, a rancid smell hits my nose. The rotted flesh has spread. The skin around the wound is healthy and smooth. But it bleeds to black around my stomach, running down my side over my ribs.
Quell said to use it to control it.Is controlling it how I stop it from spreading?
I swallow a dry breath.
There’s a stretch of splintered paneling alongside the window in my room. Carefully, I inspect it.Here goes nothing.Unsure how to control toushanainsidethe body, I roll the tension out of my shoulders and focus on the hum of magic inside, like I would with proper magic. Warm granules flutter inside me like blustered leaves. Then a pressure shifts, and cold billows through my sternum.
Toushana wades through me, rippling through my limbs into my hands.
Visualize to mobilize.As much as I hate her, I can’t get the ring of my aunt’s words out of my head.Magic responds to our intentions.I hold an image in my mind of magic bleeding through my hands.
The chill inside me stirs violently.
I hold on to the sensation, tugging it to my palms. Fingers stretch between my ribs. My hands tingle. Then suddenly, in my palm awaits a whiff of darkness.Magic is nothing without its wielder. Command it without hesitation.
The shadows swell.
Numbness slinks up each notch of my spine, chasing away every warm feeling. I press the writhing magic against the wall beside my window, and it blackens, decaying on the spot. Magic pulses through me with an aching, icy bite. Rot spreads, racing up the wall like hungry flames. Toushana licks my insides.
Destroy it all.
My heart pumps faster as toushana coils inside me like a snake. I tremble, a deathly cold wrapping around me.
My vision blurs.
Fog forms at my lips, my body buzzing with a power like I’ve never felt.
