Page 70 of Fortress of Ambrose
“That’s not your concern.”
“I want to help.”
“Busy yourself with cleaning up around here, help Dexler, or learn to knit for all I care.” I keep walking.
“I know he healed you of something. Is the Sphere’s magic hurting you? I heard you screaming.”
I stop.
“I know you think you can’t trust me. But you can.”
My blood writhes. “Eavesdropping on me doesn’t help your case. Spend your time getting in good with Willam. Maybe he’ll take you under his wing once this is all said and done. I’m a lost cause, Yaniselle.”
“Then I’ll prove it to you. I’llshowyou.”
I don’t bother with a response. Before I round the corner, she says, “Willam’s in the library.”
When I reach the library, he is sifting through books on the shelves with Knox.
“What are you looking for?”
Willam drops his book. Knox is much more cool and collected. “We’re looking for historical texts on House organization, land acquisition. Those sorts of things.”
“I came to talkandthank you.” Maybe niceness helps. “Zecky did a solid job.”
“So then, you’ve come with your answer about our House.”
“I’ve come to say I’ll consider it. But I’m still recovering. Quell is dealing with a lot being back here. Give us more time. That’s all I ask.”
“That’s reasonable,” Knox says before Willam can respond. The shirt he wears today dips below his throat, and I notice some kind of sprawling tattoo across it. But he tucks his chin down, adjusting his collar before I can make out what it is.
“Was there anything else?” he asks.
“Tell me more about Zecky. What’s he like?”
“Brilliant. A bit arrogant, but the really smart ones usually are. He plays it too fast and loose opening up his safe house to new people. But I wouldn’t trust anyone else with the lives of my family.”
Knox studies me. “Jordan, you’re not alright.”
“I will be.” I leave them and read Zecky’s card again. If he can help me,I can start rebuilding. He proved himself once. Feeling out trusting him with this is at least worth a shot. What other options do I have?
Cold magic hums in my chest as I slip out of House of Marionne under a dimming blue sky. Toushana tugs sharply in me as I glare back at the estate. Quell won’t be happy about me doing this behind her back. But I hurry out of the property’s gate into open acreage, where I can cloak. I reread the card.
The chorus of bells chime.
There, never brighter, has the Sovereign shined.
The well listens, the well sees, the well knows how to find me.
I pull at the shadows, hoping my cloak works as it should. A prickle of cold claws at the underside of my skin.Tippets Square.
To my relief, the world disappears.
It’s not dawn, and the Minneapolis streets are full of people. I steady myself, waiting for the cloaking magic to wear off. That’s when I notice a patch of fabric from my coat is missing, severed nearly at its seams. Not all of me made it with the cloak.
Magic is weakening.
I slip into the crowd with my collar pulled, careful to stick to shadows. With a quick stride I cross an intersection to enter Tippets Square. The entire block is home to dozens of churches, attracting tourists from all over. At dawn, the church bells chime a special melody all at once. At the center of the square is a courtyard with stone statues—each an artistic interpretation of what Sola Sfenti would have looked like when he roamed the earth centuries ago. The plaques at their feet label them as mythical gods from some kind of Unmarked lore. I pass a couple trying to stop their child from decorating a statue with chewing gum.
