Chapter Forty-Three Jordan
Forty-Three
Jordan
Quell shrieks again and I’m at her side, trying to pry her hand from the stones on the ground. They appear to be sucking the toushana and life out of her. I then grab her by the wrist, tugging her arm backward. But the harder I pull, the louder she wails.
“Please, it hurts. I—” Tears bead in the corners of her bright eyes. I position myself behind her to hold her upright. She burns with fever.
“Quell?”
But she doesn’t respond. Her head bobs and her lashes dip.
“Think of arresting Beaulah and how good that’s going to feel.”
Her heart races and I feel it inside. The pulsing stone is swelling in size, as is the darkness within it. My mind races. Raw materials are more potent than refined enhancers. Once an enhancer is attached to something, it cannot be separated. Enhancers bind to surfaces because of their need to exist in balance. Like the Sphere. The stone is feeding on her toushana, trying to equalize the magic disparity between it and her. And she’s resisting, which only makes the enhancer work harder. She writhes against my chest.
“You have to overwhelm it. Get it to work to de tach from you.”
“What?” She pants, growing heavier in my arms. Holding on to her is like cuddling a furnace. She claws at me. And that’s when I notice the unnatural color of her tethered hand. It’s the color of dried blood.
“Jordan, ple— ”
“Push toushana into the stone, faster than it can take it.”
“I don’t under—” She blinks slowly and I feel her heart’s cadence slow.
“ Use your toushana. As hard as you can, now. ” I tighten my hold on her frail body. She oscillates between cold and hot. Moaning in pain, she grits her teeth. Black gushes out of her tethered hand into the stone. It swells at first, the rock growing faster.
“More.”
“I can’t—”
“You can .”
Her curled body lunges forward.
The flow of black gushes out, swallowing the red stone.
Toushana bleeds all over her fingers.
The stone shatters.
Rivers of darkness crawl across the ground, pooling together before rushing back inside her.
Quell collapses in my arms.
I dab her scorching forehead with my sleeve and pour a bit of my water in her mouth. She doesn’t move, and the heart in my chest feels like stone. Then she nestles against me, her head cradled in my arm, and my heart races. She blinks, dazed, and everything else in the cave ceases to exist for me.
“Are you alright?”
She tries to get up. I help her, steadying her with an arm around her waist. She holds on to me, her fingers wrapped around mine, until she’s back up on her feet. When she sees our hands intertwined, she snatches hers away. I clear my throat.
“What just happened?” she asks.
“I think that stone was sucking the life out of you. First, your magic; then the rest of you.”
She hugs herself, staring at the charred bed of red stones still gleaming on the ground.
“How do you feel?”
“Hot. And tired.” She inspects her hands. Their color has mostly returned, but they’re dry, cracked, and blotchy with bruises.
“What were you doing in here?”
“I thought I might take one of those red gems.”
“For?”
She shifts on her feet, jaw ticked with irritation.
“Forget it. Let’s just get out of here.” Trusting her was always a risk. Once Quell can stand without much swaying, I offer her a hand to help guide her over the uneven ground. She reluctantly slips her hand into mine. The rest of her body boils, but her fingers are still ice. I rub them between my hands to warm them. She watches me curiously.
“The mission. We need you fully recovered.”
“I told you, I’m alright,” she retorts, but doesn’t pull away. As we traverse the cave’s narrower passages back toward the entrance, I keep a close eye on her. My heart races; I’m still a bit worked up.
“There you are!” A tour guide approaches. His gaze snaps to the pendant on my necklace. “Good evening, Dragunheart, sir. Aronya sends its warmest greetings to the brotherhood.”
“Pleasure. I should be getting her back.” I try to move past him, bringing Quell along. He steps in our way, eyeing her hands.
“What happened?”
She laces them behind her back. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“The mines are inspected for any abnormalities, chemical or otherwise, and—”
“There’s no need for an interrogation. I found her trying to steal. But I’ve apprehended her, and I assure you she will receive consequence for her infraction. It’s been handled.”
Quell grumbles an exhausted groan.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m required to search her person in a case like this. I must insist.” He grabs her and I see red.
I heave him away from her and flatten him against the wall. “You don’t have the authority to insist.” I straighten his disheveled clothes. “On the honor of my position, you’ll find everything in there in good order. Are we understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Sweat beads on his forehead. “Forgive me if I—”
“It’s forgotten. Like our visit here tonight.” I gesture for him to lead the way to the exit. I usher Quell with a hand on her waist to steady her, and her skin is still fire.
“It’s good for morale to have you here on the island, sir, with everything going on.”
I clench my teeth.
“What do you make of the latest gossip?”
I ignore him, helping Quell over the uneven ground.
“I hear a House is marching from the east in search of the Sphere.”
Beaulah.
“And another House has joined the search.”
I stop.
Quell and I meet eyes.
“Tell me everything you know.”
Beaulah isn’t working alone. Logs crackle in the fire. Quell stares into it, in a daze. We’ve been here for an entire day and she hasn’t counted a single sun spot. Nor is she in any shape to. Beaulah has help. I know she’s done research on how to manipulate the innards of the Sphere. What we discovered in that safe house is clearly only a piece of a larger plan. And if I know anything about Beaulah, it’s that she is loyal to one person—herself. This is not good. My brother turns a stick with some kind of bug on the end over the flames.
“Which House do you think is marching to help her?” I ask.
“How do you know they’re an ally?” Liam asks. “Couldn’t they be marching against her?”
I sit back. I hadn’t considered that.
“When you say marching , what do you mean?” It’s the first time Quell has spoken since we left the cave. She refused food and has only been sipping water.
“Their residence is formally closed,” I say. “Security protocols are in place for an extended time away. By the books it means that sixty percent or more of a House’s staff is on the move with the lady of the House.”
“Is that unusual?” she asks. “Has it been done before?”
“Twice.” Liam gently strums his guitar.
“When Misa fell,” I say. “The early days of the Houses were violent. House of Marionne, actually, feared that families of those who were cast out would want revenge. The Headmistress left when rumor of a serious attack reached her.”
“And the other time?” she asks.
My brother and I share a glance. “The Order wasn’t always run by Council of Mothers. A cabinet of twelve used to run it: the Upper Cabinet. The Council was supposed to attend an annual meeting with them. Before attending, Beaulah marched—closing her House down and taking mostly everyone with her.”
“She was scared of something,” Quell says. “What happened at the meeting?”
“Tragic accident,” Liam jumps in. “The Uppers went into the hotel where the meeting was held but never came out. No bodies were ever discovered. The Headmistresses and the Dragunhead were the only leadership the Order had left.”
I nudge the logs in the fire, and the flames swell. I don’t have proof that Beaulah conspired to kill the Uppers, so I’ve never said anything. But it’s one more reason she needs to finally be brought to justice, with evidence.
“Do you have eyes on Beaulah, reporting back to you?” Quell asks. “We can’t rely on random tidbits we pick up while out here.”
“You’re asking if I’m spying on her?”
“You said she’s onto us somehow. She is most certainly spying on you. Are there any Draguns from her House that you could turn your way?”
Yani comes to mind. When we were…close she used to listen to me. But the dark gleam in her eye at Headquarters suggests she will do the opposite of what I say just to spite me.
“You don’t understand the reach of Mother’s indoctrination if you think they can be turned,” my brother says.
“You two broke away,” she says.
“You sure he’s broken away?” A smirk very unlike Liam’s plays on his lips.
“Funny, brother.”
“How are you two even related?” Quell asks, fanning herself.
“Can you feel your magic?” I ask, ignoring the dig. She’s right: we couldn’t be more different. And I’m not sure who to blame for that anymore.
She holds her side. “It’s there. I’ll be fine.”
“If you can’t reach it, you’re not fine.” I can’t believe this has devolved to me counseling her on how to take care of her illegal magic!
“This makes me think of a story,” Liam starts, but I douse the fire before he can get started.
“Off to bed, both of you,” I say.
Quell stands, still unsteady on her feet. I get up to help her and press the back of my hand against her neck. “You’re still scorching.”
“I’m going to sleep it off,” she says, shrugging away from my touch before sauntering toward the tent. I follow her, leaving Liam behind. She disappears through the flaps and shouts, “I intend to be well enough to start sun tracking at sunrise.”
A million thoughts run through my mind. But I return to the fire to ensure it’s out. Once that’s cleaned up, Liam prepares for bed.
“We’re behind,” I tell my brother, swallowing my annoyance that he still won’t face me as himself. “I need you to help her with tracking tomorrow, with whatever energy she has.”
He rolls in his covers and our makeshift camp is silent. But the events of the evening keep me sitting up and keep my mind going. If I hadn’t shown up when I did, she would be dead. I drag my pack right in front of the entrance to her tent.
“Are you going to get some sleep?” Liam props himself up on his elbows.
“Eventually. I’m just thinking about tomorrow.”
“You’re thinking about Quell. The way you feel about her.”
I can still feel the heat of her skin against my hand. “Shut up and sleep.” I clench my fists. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“People who don’t have the privilege of lying to themselves get real good at seeing the truth.” He buries himself in his bed and I settle in mine. But sleep doesn’t come. I can still hear the fear in her voice when I found her, and feel her relief when I held her. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe I wanted her to turn to me. I glare at the dark sky. Then I glare at my brother, sleeping so peacefully.
He’s right.
The Dragunhead was right. I have a weakness for her. She is all I think about. And not just because of the mission. The flaps to Quell’s tent ripple in the wind. Tucked into my bed, I pull the covers tighter around myself. I have to stay away from her. My brother shuffles in his blankets. I suppose there are worse things in the world than having a brother who’s determined to be a pain and tell me the truth.
“Yags, do you remember the time we found all those dead rats in the country house?”
My brother answers with snores. Tomorrow. We’ll talk about that story tomorrow.