Page 51 of House of Marionne

“Did you hear something?” he asks.

“No, did you?”

“No, but I sense—” Jordan’s shoes click on the stone in my direction. He stops. “Hmph. I guess not. Go on, then. Show me where it is.” Shoes shuffle. Fabric rips through the air like it’s being unfurled.

“There’s what you were looking for,” the other says. “Over there. See. Safe and tucked away.” Heavy wood groans as it’s dragged across the floor. “Right where I said it was.”

My pulse ticks faster.

“No word to anyone about this,” Jordan orders.

“What’s your aunt up to anyway?”

“That’s Headmistress Perl. And none of your business.”

“Right, my apologies.”

Footsteps are faint until the door clicks shut. I pull the drape of fabric off me and fall into an old velvet chair, trying to calm my racing heart. The room’s changed some, furniture uncovered, but there is no indication of what Jordan wanted to make sure was down here. His sneaking under Grandmom’s nose for his Headmistress doesn’t sit right with me, but I don’t need another reason for him to be on my case.

The stone. Octos.

Dining tables, chaises, armchairs with broken legs and ripped seats surround me. I remove cover after cover but find nothing that could house stones. I sift aisles of bureaus and storage furniture, but each is empty. Until I spot a cabinet on curved legs with rows upon rows of tiny drawers inconspicuously hanging out in a corner on its own.

I tug one open, and polished stone shines back at me. Lumen Enhancer is inscribed on the inside of the drawer. I close it and pull out another. This one is greenish yellow. Decibel Enhancer. I hastily open others, several at a time, peering for some glimpse of pale blue, and my thoughts drift to Jordan. I file away seeing him snooping for later use in case I need it and force myself to focus on the dilemma at hand—the blackened metal growing out of my head.

The enhancer chest’s rows are endless, but by about the fiftieth drawer I open, I finally find a powder blue stone. Location Enhancer. I grab it and hurry out of the room.

I take the stairs two at a time, the stone clutched in my fist. I push the door open to the floor above, and the ground trembles. What in the world—I steady myself on the wall as a chandelier above rattles, its crystal baubles slipping off and shattering against the polished floor. The stone slips from my grasp, rolling away, and my heart skips a beat. I cling to the wall for footing to gird myself against the shaking ground.

Then I dash for the stone when the quaking stops. Commotion spills into the hall as bleary-eyed students pour out of their beds with questions. With it tight in my fist I cinch my scarf tight and rush to the grand foyer and through the broom closet, ignoring the earthquake. I have bigger problems.

Please let Octos be true to his word.

I push open the door and step into the thick forest air.

SIXTEEN

“Octos?”

I tighten my fist on the stolen bauble and skim every shadowed corner of the forest for some glimpse of him.

“Here.” He comes out of the bramble.

“I have what you asked for. Now do what you promised.” I smooth my clothes and press my shoulders back, then open my hand. He looks at the stone, stare alight with veneration. I close my fist.

“What does this mean to you?”

“Questions weren’t a part of the bargain.”

He’s right. But his expression drips with yearning. It’s a Location Enhancer; what is he trying to find?

“If you know anything about Location Enhancers, you know that it takes a dozen of them at least to do anything.”

“I only have one.”

“Which is all I asked for.” He holds out his hand and I place the stone in his open palm. “We still have a deal or—”

“Yes, but let’s be clear, whatever trouble you’re trying to get into with this, leave me out of it.”

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