Nineteen
Quell
For two days I pass the time. Beaulah studies me, and I dip into one of the books she sent as I wait to hear from Abby. Trials weren’t as hard to watch the third time. I’m not sure if it’s because I knew what was going to happen or because Georgie was there, strutting around exuberantly.
And at night, I lie in bed thinking of Jordan, wondering what he made of this place. He was always hesitant to say much about it.
When the morning of the Mums Ball comes, I pack up in anticipation of seeing my mom. Everything, including the books Beaulah gave me. Maybe I do have some things to learn. It would be vastly easier if Adola could cover for me. She thinks I’m a monster, but she’ll see that’s not true. I find her room and slip a note underneath the door, wishing her luck on Trials.
The door opens. “Quell? What are you doing here?” She grabs the note. “You’re leaving?”
“Can I come in?”
She grumbles, parting the door wider. Adola’s room is nothing like Jordan’s: it is cluttered, and every surface is covered in open books or journals full of handwritten notes. There is no floor in her room. There are only more books. Old-looking ones with gold pages and others thicker than a dictionary. There are more half-empty coffee mugs around the room than I can count. And above her desk hangs an oiled portrait of a half-naked man being forced by a riled-up crowd to drink poison. I study it closer, perplexed. I see a date: 1787.
“Quell, why are you here?”
“Your Trials are tomorrow. Did you try the thing I mentioned?”
She folds her arms.
“I really am here to check on you. And say goodbye.” In a low voice, I explain I’m meeting my mom.
“You’re really leaving?” She shifts on her feet. I set down my bag.
“I really do hope you do well at Trials.”
She sits on the edge of her bed and gestures for me to join. “The thing you told me did help. Thanks.”
“What else goes on in the forest? Is it just the burial?”
“Please stop talking about it. I’d prefer to do Third Rite a thousand times than a virtue pin trial once.”
I eye the time as I sit beside her, thinking of centuries ago—when Darian, twin of a Sunbringer, chose toushana over his proper magic to stop a magical poison rotting their mother from the inside out. And just several decades ago, some say Darkbearers were on the ground in eastern Europe before Allied bombers helped destroy the oppressive regime’s oil refineries, which led to its eventual downfall. Even if I were what Adola fears, from what I’ve been reading, some Darkbearers did incredible things. She’s pushing me away for no reason.
“Have you ever talked to your aunt about your magic?”
“Of course not!” She stands and paces.
Her walls are up with Beaulah, and I wonder if they’ve ever had an actual vulnerable conversation of any kind. Beaulah Perl may be many terrible things, but she is passionate about dark magic. I bet she would help Adola, not tear her down. I consider telling her that, but I keep my mouth shut as she gazes into the distance, not wanting to shake her up anymore.
“I’m scared, too,” I say. Something inside me uncinches.
“What?”
“To see my mom. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I keep thinking: What if she doesn’t recognize me? Or what if she thinks I’ve made a colossal mess of things?” What if she isn’t okay going back on the run again? I let out a heavy breath. “The pressure to not be a disappointment, you know?”
“I don’t care what my aunt thinks anymore. I just want to survive.” Adola tugs at the end of her hair. “I still think about her.”
“Beaulah?”
“Brooke,” Adola whispers. “She was one of my aunt’s favorites, a rising star. She left with a friend to run an errand for Beaulah one day. Now they’re both gone. Dead. I don’t know what happened, but I know my aunt’s obsession with toushana didn’t help.”
The girls my grandmother killed. “That wasn’t your aunt.”
“You’re defending her?”
“No, I—I’m sorry. What I meant to say was you’ll be heir one day. Maybe you can change things.”
“You would not believe how far away that feels. Living in a House where your aunt worships darkness.” Her gaze falls to my hands. I stick them in my pockets so she can see me, not my magic. Maybe that will crack the walls she’s built.
“Dark magic is part of me. I can’t change that. But it’s not all of me; I’m not evil. The best I can do, what I’m trying to do, is figure out who I am. And hold on to that person.”
“And finding your mother will help you with that?”
“All we used to have was each other.” Mom speaks a language only I can understand—she understands how to be invisible, how to survive. “I have to find her. I stood up for myself. I hope she’ll be proud of me somehow.”
“And if she’s not?” Adola watches me.
The thought makes my knees weak. “I have to get going. You have a chance to make this a House you want to be a part of.”
Adola tucks her lower lip. I make my way to the door, flexing my fingers, which are covered in smooth skin, not bruises. Yesterday, Beaulah had me destroy a dozen enhancer stones. Then she brought me pieces of magical armor to unleash toushana on. Those were much harder to decompose, but after a few hours, I managed to turn the metal to a pile of broken shards. And my hands still haven’t purpled.
“I’m still figuring out your aunt. But she’s not as awful as she seems.”
Adola’s head cocks.
I shrug.
“It was nice of you to come by.” She crosses her bedroom, then opens the door.
“Maybe I’ll see you around,” I say.
“Maybe.”
The door closes, and I slip behind one of the trick bookcases. If Beaulah finds out I’m leaving, I don’t think she’ll be happy about it. In the bowels of the estate, I hurry until I find an exit. Cold night air hits me as I dash toward the water gardens. Once I clear the walls of the estate, I pull at my cloak. To Fairfield.
Goodbye, Hartsboro. Hopefully for good.
The quaint eatery is one of many in a shopping strip in Fairfield, about an hour from Hartsboro. Or, in my case, the breath of time it takes to cloak. Across the street is the luxurious hotel where the ball will be held. I arrive early and watch the nearby streets for loiterers to make sure I haven’t been followed—and keep an eye out for Order members. The coffee shop swells with patrons for the lunch rush, only to empty again. No one lingers too long.
Once the sky begins to dim, I enter and find a booth in a corner. I hold up the menu; it covers my face well. A waitress asks me what I’d like to order, twice, before the bell chimes and the door to the coffee shop swings open. Abby enters, wrapped in a long, dark dress and a shawl that complements her bright eyes. My grip on my chair slacks, and it takes every ounce of my self-control to not run and hug her. She is skirting between tables when the door chimes again. Her boyfriend, Mynick, enters in a dark suit; his greasy bangs are unmistakable. I shift in my seat.
Abby joins me at the booth tucked far in the corner. I put my back to the door and keep the collar of my coat up.
“Quell!” she squeals, reaching across the table for my hands.
“It’s so good to see you.” I squeeze back and try to exhale. I need to tell Abby the truth about my toushana someday soon. But today is not that day. “Thank you for coming, Abs, really. Juggling this with everything else you have going on.”
“My internship’s been pretty flexible.” She turns a yellow-gemmed bracelet around her wrist. “Getting time away isn’t ruffling too many feathers.”
“Are you still finishing by next Season?”
“Yes.” She pats her backpack beside her on the seat. “As long as the world doesn’t fall apart first.”
Mynick slides into the booth beside Abs. And I recall how much Jordan didn’t like him that one time they talked.
“Hi, Mynick.” I hold on to the lip of the bench. Last I remember, he promised Abby he was going to try to get out of becoming a Dragun. Why would she bring him?! My eyes snap to the slit of fabric at his throat, and my heart patters faster. No coin there.
“How have you been?” I ask him.
He fidgets. “Oh, you know, studying, research, practicing all kinds of things.” He smiles darkly. “And trying to keep this one out of trouble.”
Abby looks between us, her fingers stroking the Third Rite scar inches below her clavicle.
“Has my grandmother tried to summon you again with the trace?”
“No. And I haven’t gone south at all.”
“So you’re doing okay?”
“A little sore. My scar started throbbing.”
“I’m having it looked into by a Healer friend,” Mynick says. “The Dragunhead’s aware of the rumors about your grandmother tethering graduates to her House, you know?”
Chills skitter up my arms.
He goes on. “I heard the Council is pushing for her to be beheaded and her House to be shut down. Like Duncan’s.”
“What would happen to everyone in the House?” I ask.
“They’d be removed from the Order permanently.”
“Everyone?”
“The House no longer has an heir,” he adds, giving me a knowing look. I feel sick. At one point in time this would have all been my responsibility. “It’s all rumors, who knows.” He hooks an arm over Abby’s shoulder and she sniffles. As much as I don’t want Abby’s career to dissolve, my grandmother has to be dealt with.
I squeeze her hand. “Well, if the truth comes to light, we have to fight for a solution that’s fair. You don’t deserve that.”
She chews the inside of her lip.
An elderly couple has come in and sits at a table by the window, far enough out of earshot. After another careful look around the coffee shop, I pull out the invitations.
“Abby, could I show you what I found?” I ask, hoping Mynick takes the hint. But he’s dressed as if he’s in on this. She takes the invites, flipping through them.
“Where are you staying?” Mynick asks, his elbows on the table.
“I’m on the go, not staying in one place too long.”
“Where did you get these?” she asks, flipping through the invites.
“My mom was looking for places I’d be. And she still is.” I move the Veil of Mums Ball invite to the top. “This one is across the street. It starts in a half hour. I was thinking you could go and find her. I’ll wait here.” They don’t respond, so I keep going: “She’ll be trying to blend in, in plain sight.” I slide to the edge of my seat. “She taught me that becoming part of my surroundings was the key to going unnoticed when in public.”
“Wait, why would you have to go unnoticed in public?” Abby asks.
I swallow. She’d never believe a blatant lie.
“She didn’t want anyone from the Order to find me.”
Abby raises an eyebrow and sits back. “That’s…weird.”
“I think she must have known about the tether and never wanted my grandmother anywhere near me.”
“Why didn’t you say something before?”
“I’m sorry.” I exhale sharply.
Mynick strokes his bangs.
“Oh, have I mentioned that my mom is very wary of heights? She also doesn’t do elevators. Always stairs. It’s a fear she’s had since childhood, she told me. Should you write this down?”
“Quell, we’ve been doing this for months.”
When I meet Mynick’s gaze, his eyes pan away.
“Something to say?” I ask.
“I’m just here to support Abby. Ignore me.”
“What are you thinking? Please share.”
He sighs. “Look, sometimes I wonder if your mother’s better at hiding than Abby is at searching. No offense, babe.”
Her fingers drum on the table. “I do always seem to be two steps behind her.”
My nails dig into my seat. Are they trying to back out at the last minute? “This is different, Mynick. If she thinks I could be there, she’s going to come out of the shadows to look for me.”
He rests his elbows on the table and leans in. “Finding your mom would be easier if you came with us to the Ball.”
I sit back in my seat. “But that’s impossible.”
His brows bounce. “It isn’t.”
“Ah, that’s brilliant,” Abby squeals. “Why hadn’t I thought of that before?” She squishes his face between her palms and kisses him.
“Slow down. Thought of what?”
“I can change your face.” His smirk curls darkly. “Anatomer magic is one of my strands.”
“You can use it on someone else? You can make me look different?”
He nods. The Ambrose motto. Intellect cuts the sharpest. It almost makes their pride palatable. Almost. If Mynick is willing to get his hands dirty, then maybe he is worth trusting.
“I’ll need a dress.”
“Happens to be my favorite hobby,” Abby says. “I can still come with you, if you’d like. Mynick?”
“Sure, the Veil of Mums is always a rad time,” he says sardonically.
“Then it’s settled,” I say. “Let’s get out of here.”