Seven

Nore

Nore eyed the driver loitering beside the shiny town car. Outside the hotel hosting the Fall Harvest Gala, Marked and Unmarked bustled in every direction. She slid a stick of gum in her mouth and elbowed Ellery, who crouched beside her.

“It’s him,” she said, pointing at the driver. Her plan had two parts, and the first was the most risky: if she were caught trying to impersonate a Headmistress, she’d be arrested—and her last name, for once, wouldn’t matter. “Do it now.”

“Nore—”

“Ell!”

He groaned. “You swear to me, after this, you will come home.”

“I swear.” On my own terms.

They pressed deeper into the wall of shrubbery that ran along the outside of the hotel and kept an eye on the valet line of cars and waiting drivers. Hotel staff buzzed in and out of the building, but in their corner of the landscaping, they were well shielded and out of sight. Her brother sighed and Nore braced for the warmth of his magic. Taking a persona didn’t require the same length of study as it did for Anatomers in other Houses. Their House had pushed past that limitation of magic. Their House had pushed past a lot of things. Though the effect didn’t last as long as mastered study of a persona, an Anatomer from House Ambrose could change their face, or someone else’s, to the appearance of anyone they laid their eyes on. Without using their blood.

Ell’s fingers ran down her face. A sneeze tingled her nose as her pale skin bronzed, then deepened to the color of rich earth. Her red hair shortened and coiled, graying at her roots. In moments, Nore stood taller; her body was heavier, her hips wider. Her knees felt a bit weak and her back hunched ever so slightly.

She was Darragh Marionne.

He moved his magic toward her clothes and she stopped him.

“Just try to change the color of my dress. That should be simpler.” Her brother’s Shifter magic wasn’t as refined. He’d hoped to master three strands and garner a brotherhood invite, but he barely had two. Gradually, the gray of her linen turned blotchy pink. She cinched her long coat tightly around herself. It was dark outside. That would have to do.

“You have the brush?” he asked.

Nore squeezed the stone in her hand and nodded. When the hustling throng of people outside the hotel died down, she slipped out of their hiding spot. Her heart knocked against her ribs. Please let this work, she prayed to the Wielder. The real Darragh Marionne was still inside at the ball. But the evening was wearing down and she wouldn’t be there much longer. When the real Darragh left the party, Nore intended to be in her private car, where Nore would force her to listen to an offer she couldn’t turn down.

Nore strode over to the car, mustering as much confidence as she could, and dipped her chin at the driver. She wasn’t enthusiastic about going back to Dlaminaugh as she had promised Ellery, but if she was successful in getting what she wanted from Darragh, she wouldn’t be at Dlaminaugh for long.

“Ready to leave, Headmistress?” the driver asked.

Nore shook her head no, careful to not utter a sound. Even House Ambrose could only push Anatomer magic so far. The best she had was her outer appearance.

The driver opened the door, and Nore white-knuckled her coat’s lapel, the first part of her plan executed flawlessly. She looked for her brother as she slipped inside the car. He strolled up right on cue.

“I’m Ellery Ambrose, tenth of my blood, Anatomer, and firstborn of Headmistress Isla Ambrose. And you are?” He stuck out his hand to the driver, who shook it tentatively.

“John.”

“Nice to meet you, John.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, careful to angle his body to block John’s line of sight to the town car’s tinted windows. “What do you say about this weather, eh?”

The weather, really?! Ell had to do better than that if they were going to keep him distracted enough to not notice when the real Darragh Marionne exited the hotel.

Nore pulled out the Retentor brush. There was no time to let the magic wear off naturally. The smooth, flat stone fit perfectly in the palm of her hand. She rubbed it in slow circles across her skin, and the tingle of Anatomer magic leaving her body prickled her all over. In a moment, her body shortened, her back straightened, and she was Nore again. She perked up her ears to her brother’s conversation. Her heart thumped harder with every passing minute; John and her brother went on and on about the first snow coming so early in the year. Nore craned for a view of the hotel’s entrance, biting her lip.

When Darragh Marionne appeared, Nore pressed back in her seat. She couldn’t chicken out now.

The Headmistress stood outside the glass sliding doors of the hotel, finishing a chat with an elderly man with a fancy fleur-de-lis suit and antique timepiece. They ended their conversation with an odd gesture: a hug. Nore never took the hard woman for a hugger. She also didn’t realize Darragh Marionne still had friends in the Order. Darragh strode to the car.

“Madam?” The driver’s muffled voice streamed through the windows. A crease cut between his brows. “But she was just—”

Nore held her breath.

“She went back inside a while ago,” her brother explained. “Said she’d forgotten something. She walked right past us.”

Nore bit the inside of her cheek.

The driver gaped.

“You must have missed it,” Ell said.

“You look like a confused puppy, John. Fix your face,” Darragh snapped. “And open my door.”

“I apologize,” Ellery chuckled, offering Darragh a hand. “We were caught up in conversation.”

Darragh eyed her brother’s hand, then looked right through the car window before getting inside. Nore sat up tall and tried to imagine how Red would handle this. She could be Red on the inside, if not on the outside. In truth, Red was her: the person Nore was when she wasn’t worried about her last name, or what her mother and the Order might think.

She swallowed as Darragh joined her inside and closed the door. The Headmistress reared back in her seat and folded her arms when she saw Nore. Not the least bit surprised.

“I’ll be brief.” Nore’s throat thickened. Be Red. “You’re drowning in rumors about your House. Some of which, I suspect, are true.”

Darragh’s stare was iron, but in her lap, she held her handbag in a tight grip.

“In no time, the Council will be calling for the dissolution of your House, if they haven’t already.” A bluff. But if the rumors were true, that was the Council’s only logical next move. And judging by Darragh’s nervousness, Nore was at least close to the truth. “You’re going to have to pay up for your alleged crimes.”

“Make your point,” Darragh shoved out through her clenched jaw.

“You need my help.” She measured her tone just so. Red was confident. She was confident. “Headmistress terms are for life. Death is knocking at your door.”

Darragh flinched.

“But House of Marionne can thrive with my help. You can escape all the consequences the Order would try to bring down on your head, and rule as the Four-Hundred-Year King once did, if you wanted.”

Darragh’s gaze narrowed. The first gesture she didn’t try to hide.

“You can be immortal.” Speaking it out loud made Nore’s chest seize. Most believed immortality wasn’t possible. But her House was notorious for discovering the impossible.

And possessing the legendary Immortality Scroll was their most revered public “secret.” Their inaugural Headmistress had discovered it and changed her surname to make sure everyone knew it. House of Ambrose. House of the Immortal. “I will trade you the deepest secret of our House in exchange for you freeing me from this poison before it has a chance to grow.”

Darragh was as still as stone.

“Ma’am!” A knock at the window made her jump. “Are we ready?” The driver pressed his eyes to the window and gaped at Nore. Darragh didn’t move, her stare fixed on Nore.

“How do I know you have access to the Scroll?” she asked.

“I don’t. My mother does. It’s in the family vault. I will return to Dlaminaugh and steal it.”

Darragh’s gaze moved to the window. She tightened her folded arms. “I had your name erased from the Book of Names. Do you have any idea how difficult that was? Then you back out on our agreement.”

“I know there’s no reason for you to trust me again,” Nore said.

“Absolutely none.”

“But you have no other choice.”

Darragh’s jaw clenched. She knew Nore was right.

“Up front, I only ask for you to agree. Once I’ve delivered the Scroll, then you can help me with my toushana. That is fair. You have nothing to lose.” Nore clenched her fists as if she could hold the outcome of her request in her hands.

“And how do you know you can trust me?” Darragh met her eyes.

Nore stewed on her words. The Order was made of monsters. But Darragh had proven to be a worthy ally before.

“Because you’ve never shown me any reason that I can’t.” A silence followed as Darragh’s jaw worked. Nore didn’t dare say another word.

“You have a deal. If you tell a soul, including that brother of yours, the deal is off. And you’ll find out that there are fates much worse than death, Miss Ambrose. Now, get out of my car.”

Nore had a plan. It would work. She knew where the family vault was. She just had no idea how the heck to get inside it.