Page 169 of Fortress of Ambrose
Jordan looked like death. And Quell was haggard, along with another of those traveling with them. The crowd of Ambrose in the entryway corridor of the estate swelled with débutants gawking at the guests.
“It’s him,” someone whispered.
Nore elbowed her way through the crowd. She heard her brother’s name shouted. Someone stumbled into her as she tried to get to Quell and Jordan. Glass hit the ground and shattered.
“Headmistress, should we lock him up?” someone yelled as she passed. Nore clenched her fists. “If the rumors are true—”
“Arethe rumors true, Headmistress?” another asked. “Did he steal magic? Ishethe reason our magic is intermittent?”
The building rocked with voices and people. The walls felt like they were closing in.
She screamed, “Eyeshere!” She wouldn’t live a lie anymore. The deception had to stop, and it could, right now, with her. “I have an announcement you’re going to want to hear!” Nore climbed halfway up the stairs for a better view of the foyer teeming with a hundred or more.
“This House has been steeped in deception and secrecy since its inception.”
Every voice was silent.
“The Headmistress of this House has a Pact with the dead ancestors.They get to channel our magic to keep themselves in spirit form. And we get to channel their magic to enhance our House members’ born-magic, making our magical intellect sharper than the rest.” She wanted many things. But more than anything, she wanted to bedoneliving in secret. She held up her hands. “That Pact should have killed me. Because I don’t have magic.”
A gasp swept across the foyer.
“That is why you never saw me in your classes. That is why I was whisked away to my cottage and on sabbatical. That is why I have hated this place.” Her voice broke. “But these last few weeks it has grown on me. We are in crisis, my fellow Ambrosers. And I can get us out of this mess. I know I can. But I need you to trust meand our guests.”
Stares shifted to Quell, Jordan, and now Yagrin, who’d joined them. He stood beside Nore.
“Ellery is killing our ancestors, which is a threat to all our highly developed magic. And he’s trying to kill me to take this House for himself. I have no intention of letting him. If you don’t like that, there’s the door. But if you turn your back on me now, you are never welcome to return.”
At first, no one moved.
Then a few shoved their way through the crowd, muttering to themselves, before storming out into the snow.
“Anyone else?” she asked. She spotted Lauren in the crowd, who pressed a palm with knotted fingers to her heart. Nore felt something strange bite at her lips. A smile. She drew strength from her mother’s words, who watched from across the crowd.
The audience parted, allowing their guests through.
“About the other matter. We will need to be careful,” Yagrin muttered to her. “My brother is a naturally suspicious person. And nothing gets past Quell. Are you with me?”
“If it’s the only way, yes, I am.” She was going to get her heart back. Whatever it took.
Sixty-Eight
Quell
The halls of Dlaminaugh reek of death. Dead rove the halls. Most of the walls are the color of cement, and the whole place is frigidly cold. I sit down in a chair in Nore’s office as close to the fire as I can, holding the metal box with the diadem of proper magic. Jordan lingers behind me, standing, refusing a seat at the table. Erla is beside me, pulling at the hem of her dress. We wait for some time.
“I hear they are very smart,” she says when maezres enter the room in drab gray linen with stoic stares. Isla Ambrose, Nore’s mother, is on their heels in a deep blue gown with silver stitching. Her plain diadem arced over her head is ornamented with a single gemstone.
I hold my own fidgety hands still and say, “Youare smarter.” I whisper to Jordan, “Maybe we should have brought some more of our own.”
“No second-guessing yourself.” He returns to his post just as his brother enters with Nore. The brothers share a hard glare. A wall of ice can be felt between them all across the room. Nore, too, is in a bright blue gown with gold buttons and capped sleeves. A rust sash is sloped across her chest. Nore takes a seat at the head of the long meeting table with Yagrin beside her. Jordan crosses the room, sticking to the perimeter, giving his brother a wide berth. I straighten in my seat as Nore updates everyone and makes formal introductions.
“I’ve invited our lead maezres and priests. They are some of the brightest magical minds, House loyalties aside, I’m sure we all agree.”
“What is the plan here?” One of their maezres jumps right in, addressing Isla. But Nore’s mother only has eyes for her daughter. “Will the Sphere be re-created?”
Nore gestures at me.
“The Sphere’s proper magic is secure at the moment. It’s the other magic that needs to be preserved. Toushana. It will be held in rings.” I explain my version of Jordan’s plan. Thirty times more rings than he’d originally planned, so we can make suremanyhave access to toushana. I still don’t like the idea of dark magic only being given to a finite number of people, but rings are efficient to make, and we are short on time. “If the rings work well enough for the toushana, we may move the proper magic to rings in the future to prevent the vessel it’s currently in being stolen. If magic is housed in many places, it can’t easily be stolen.”
