Page 71 of Fortress of Ambrose
Beside the stone statues is a sparkling fountain shooting water in the air. I check the card again and sit on the fountain’s edge. A few minutes pass, and when the bells ring, I set the card in the water. It dissolves, sinking below the surface. Then a ghost of Zecky’s face appears where the card vanished.
“Bay Hill Church, front steps.”
I hustle out of the square, toward an ornate stone building surrounded by hedges. I climb the steps about halfway and busy myself reading its plaques. Someone clears their throat behind me.
“Are you feeling alright?” Zecky asks, pretending to admire the carved detailing in the stonework. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
“I came for assistance with another matter,” I say, keeping my back to him.
“Yes, your situation is precarious,” he says.
“You can do all kinds of things that are out of the ordinary?”
“Extraordinary, you mean.”
“I want it out.”
He traces his jaw. A beat of silence passes between us. “And what are you going to put the Sphere’s magic into?”
My heart ticks faster. Trust is a risk.Sovereign, don’t let this be a mistake. “Your great-great-however-many-greats-grandfather made the Sphere once. I don’t see why his successor can’t make another one.”
Wind shuffles the trees. Somewhere birds chirp. But Zecky doesn’t respond.
“We can assemble a team, like they did before,” I add.
Zecky still doesn’t respond. I face him.
“And in exchange?” he asks.
“Working on the new Sphere isn’t glory enough for you?”
“Glory doesn’t ease hunger pangs.”
“Name your price.”
Zecky walks up the church stairs and strolls along the promenade beside a lush green courtyard. “I want a House.”
“You’re making your own houses, I’ve heard.”
Zecky scoffs. “Willam and his friends are idealists. I’m a realist. I want anancestralHouse. Something with roots. Something proven. I hear one could be available. That someone close to you might be willing to abandon their post.”
House of Marionne.His words slice like a knife between my ribs.
He could never. Unless Quell wanted to. But Zecky didn’t have to know that. “Get this magic out of me without any issues, and all things are on the table.”
“You should follow me.” He quickens his pace, and I hustle to keep up.
But as I disappear down the steps, I spot a familiar face patrolling the fountain, the same I thought I saw at the airport, that guy who used to hang around Abby.Mynick.I hurry behind Zecky.
Deep underground below Bay Hill Church is a maze of stone hallways. The church is actually a hollowed-out locked building concealing a safe house beneath. Zecky guides me through a main room with two ornate doors on either side. We enter the northernmost one, which opens up to winding, dimly lit halls. The air has a biting chill, so cold it causes the toushana inside me to stir. Wailing groans behind each door we pass send bumps up my arms.
“This side is a healing clinic. We’re used by every safe house in a thousand-mile radius. Churches get traffic all the time. It’s a good cover. The southern entrance is where we’ve made our home.”
“You don’t sound very mobile. That’s a risk.”
“We’re nimbler than you think. Evading the brotherhood has become much easier thanks to you.” He smiles, and I feel sick. “I’ve collected some of the ripest, most lethal minds in magic you’ll ever meet. Who should we fear, Mr.Wexton?You, our newest patient?”
When we stop at a small room with an examination table, toushana lurches in my chest. My feet are frozen. In a new Order, labs like this wouldn’t have to be underground.
