Page 90 of Fortress of Ambrose
Ellery grumbled. “I want to hear more about your plan to get rid of Nore. How are we going to get to her with the ancestors determined to keep her obedient to the Pact? Where do we even start looking for the Duncan piece of the Scroll?”
Ellery intended to lead his House through this chaos of the Sphere breaking. Ambrose could chart that course like no one else. But how could they focus on stretching their intellect when their Head had no magic at all? His sister was really clever, but that wasn’t the same as knowing how to do thingsmagically. He ground his jaw every time he thought of it.Hewas the natural choice. But as a child he’d always been overlooked by his mother and ignored by his father, who was focused on trying again for an heir. He’d proven himself eventually. But he was done doing that.
He would take what he wanted.
“Don’t worry about the Duncan piece of the Scroll. That was never the best use of anyone’s time. I told you that before. Now you believe me?”
“I guess so.”
“I have a better plan. Trust that I have my hand inmanyplaces.” The Dragunhead set a hand on Ellery’s shoulder. “Saving the world is not for the impatient. Are you still up to the task?”
“I am,” Ellery said between gritted teeth. He didn’t care about the world unless it threatened to rip magic away from him. That was the only reason he was willing to put any energy into the Dragunhead’s plans for Jordan and Quell.
“On second thought, the rain is slacking, and the soil will be nice and soft.” The Dragunhead set down the wooden animal and tossed Ellery a shovel.
Ellery balled his fists, but he followed him out the door.
Thirty-Eight
Nore
Marching toward Dlaminaugh across the bitter winter snow felt like being escorted to prison. She’d never been safe between the walls of her House, but especially now.
Her brother’s plan to shove her heart in the ancestors’ glass box had failed to kill her.
But Ellery still wanted her dead.
Somehow he’d manipulated magic to allow the ancestors to cross other thresholds. She needed the Duncan piece of that Scroll more than ever now. At least she and Yagrin would be on the same page about that.
The ancestors glided along before her as if charting her course. As if they knew if she had a moment to decide her future for herself, she would turn around and run. She was several steps faster than her mother and Yagrin, despite her hesitation to come back to this glass-and-concrete estate of horrors. The box with her heart was covered in a dark fabric and wedged in the grip of one of the shadowy figures, hardly perceptible, blending together like a half-told truth.
Drew’s bravery haunted Nore. The way they stood up to her brother. The way they dared to stand for something even if it defied everyone’s expectation. She was marching back into her home as a fraud. If they knew, they’d probablyturn her overto her brother.
Draguns stood sentry on either side of Dlaminaugh’s concrete gate. With the rumors she’d heard about the brotherhood, she was surprisedthey hadn’t abandoned their posts. Their stares slid to her mother first, then to her before hitting the ground. She had to believe there was some way out of this mess—stuckin the exact role she’d been avoiding her entire life. If she had a heart, it would have cracked.
She spotted the gravel path that wound around the estate to her cottage. She veered toward it, and the world darkened. Her body hit solid air as the ancestors blocked her detour. The only path that was clear was the path forward—to the shiny, opening glass doors of House of Ambrose.
She marched inside, where a long line of House members, students, maezres, and staff waited rigidly to receive her. She stopped. And Yagrin nearly stumbled into the back of her.How did they know?
Maezre Tutom, her governess when she was small who was determined to help her acclimate to magical studies the last time she was here, waved at her. But Nore couldn’t move. Another woman who was older than Nore but not quite as old as her mother approached. Her dark hair, pinned under a servant’s cap and dull silver diadem, fell beside her face as she curtsied. She quickly shoved it back in place. Nore recognized her as one of the maids always at her mother’s beck and call. She couldn’t recall her name. Caisely or Paisely or something. But she realized this maid would now behershadow.
“Headmistress,” she said. “I’m Ainsley, and I’m here for whatever you need. Head Maid Maura Shoom retired, so I’m lead now. I trained closely under her, serving your mother for the last ten years. And before me, my mother served your mother and the late Porsha, your grandmother.”
“How—” Nore’s voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “How did you know I am to become Headmistress?”
Ainsley blinked. “Mr.Ambrose.”
“My brother?”
“He told us that he and Headmistress Isla were leaving to change House leadership. He instructed us to wait for their return. Thenyouarrived. Is your brother alright, ma’am?”
Her heart fluttered. Her brother could rot in the deepest pits of hell.She didn’t want this. She didn’t want any of this. Her entire life, she’d never been good enough for this role—magiclessher. Now the whole House watched her arrival, staring with expectation gleaming in their eyes. She still didn’t have magic they would find admirable.Whenwould she be done living a lie? She bit the inside of her cheek just to feel something.
“They’ll only know you’re terrified if you hesitate,” Yagrin whispered into her ear.
She shrugged him away, with her eyes forward. The ancestors slipped inside the building, billowing along the ceilings like smoke. She took a step. They inched along. She took another step, then kept going, her fists full of the skirt of her dress. She avoided every face she passed as the long corridor took her wherever the ancestors intended her to go.
Ainsley stayed close. The shadows shifted when they rounded on the Hall of Discovery, and it hit her.My heart has to go into the vault, sealing my fate.She’d almost been foolish enough to be comforted by the ancestors’ presence guiding her home. But they weren’t protecting her; they were keeping her accountable to her word.
