Twenty-Five

Nore

Nore fiddled with the earrings beneath her curtain of hair. It’d been days yet she was no closer to figuring out where her mother would keep the key to the family vault. Darragh had already written to check in. Nore didn’t have any updates, so she hadn’t responded, which left her feeling like a fish was wriggling in her insides at all times. She had one idea of a place to look, but getting away from her lessons with Maezre Bessie Tutom was proving difficult. Nore watched the clock as Maezre Tutom stewed over a text, waiting for her to answer a question she’d already forgotten.

“Well? Are you going to answer?” She tapped her foot. They’d been at this for hours, memorizing House history and a month’s worth of Latin vocabulary she’d missed. “Let’s switch gears.” Maezre Tutom slapped the book closed and popped open a box of rings. “Get up, let’s get some blood flowing.” She slipped on a green one and dangled her hand to grip Nore’s shoulder.

Nore sighed. The burn of the maezre’s magic seared her shoulder. Her arm shuddered in pain, and the whole thing went numb from shoulder to wrist. She winced.

“It’s just been a while since you’ve tried.”

“Not to be disrespectful, Maezre, but according to Cultivating Finesse, the art of Cultivating works best when amplifying magic that is already there. As you know, there is no Audior magic in me to amplify. That ring can glow all it wants; it won’t help. I don’t have magic. And I’m fine with that.”

Maezre Tutom turned her to look her right in the eye. “You will not talk that way, young lady. Do you hear me?” She slipped on a different ring. In moments Nore’s shoulder was burning again and her arm was numb.

This must be what lab rats feel like, Nore thought.

They went on for an hour or more, before Nore’s stomach rumbled so loudly that it made a convincing appeal for a lunch break.

“It’s been quite some time since I’ve tutored you, but your memory is keen. Your mother told me your sabbatical went well and you’d come back sharper.”

“She said that?”

“She did. Still, we are quite behind.” Maezre Tutom patted a stack of books she still wanted to get through. “Heirs shouldn’t need more than one Season to debut; it makes a House look weak. Adola Perl will be finishing at the start of next Season. Drew Oralia finished in a single Season. The Marionne girl, if the rumors are true, finished in mere weeks. How much sharper should your intellect be, Ambrose? It’s already been years, multiple Seasons. You would disgrace yourself, this House, further?”

Nore groaned.

“Intellectus…” She gestured for Nore to finish.

“Secat acutissimum.” Her stomach churned again, as if on cue.

The maezre sighed. Then she tapped Nore on the head, pressing the diadem—that kept slipping—into her scalp. “We really should glue that down.”

“You’re not putting glue on my hair. That is where I draw the line.”

Tutom held her arms open, but Nore wasn’t quite sure what to make of the gesture. Her own mother didn’t hug her. She tipped forward on her toes, folding at the waist ever so slightly, and her maezre did the rest. The burly woman squeezed her tight and patted her cheek.

“We’re going to get you sorted. Never met an Ambrose I couldn’t Cultivate. You won’t be the first.” When the maezre let herself out, Nore dashed out of the cottage on her heels. When she entered the courtyard, the ancestors rose to meet her. A shadow blew close, grazing her skin, and it felt like fingertips of ice.

“Away!” She kept her gaze to the ground and picked up to a run. When she crossed the threshold of the estate and left the ancestors behind, she exhaled. She’d stolen Sun Dust once from her mother’s desk, where the maid had set a vial while she cleaned the vault. The woman at least knew where the vault was. Maybe she’d seen the key? It was a risk. But the maid doted on Nore, and she hadn’t seen in her so long. And if Nore approached it casually enough, she’d never suspect a thing.

Nore moved through the corridors, pretending not to hear the whispers or see the scornful stares of her peers. She held her head perfectly level, but she thought she might vomit the whole time. Dlaminaugh was a place where you earned everything, including your bed. So she was born hated. She followed the main stair to the private wing. At one point she heard Priest Kimper’s booming voice and walked faster. The last thing she needed was to be chastised about skipping her prayers to the Wielder. When she reached the landing, she steadied herself on the rail and checked her diadem. Once she’d caught her breath, she smoothed her clothes and roved the halls for one of the family’s maids. When she spotted one coming out of her brother’s room, she rushed up to her. Maura’s mouth fell open. She wiped her hands. “Is that really little Emilie?”

Nore blushed. She couldn’t help it.

“Well, I said you’d never show your face here again, and I have been made a liar.” She pulled Nore over, spinning her around. “Let me get a look at you, girlie.”

She gushed and Nore let her. It is nice to be missed by someone, she supposed. Maura doted on her and went on about all she had missed: the passing of Priest Brosm, the maezres who had resigned for unknown reasons, and all the balls, which were intellectual competitions in their House; Ellery’s drama with suitors; and her mother’s increasing aloofness. Maura spoke a million miles a minute. People like that dizzied Nore. When Maura paused for a breath, she jumped in. “I have a question, Maura.”

“Go on.”

“Where would I store something very personal and valuable?”

“The family vault.” She held out her hand. “Did you have something you need me to pass along to your mother?”

“No, I was actually thinking I’d stick it in there myself. Could you remind me where Mother keeps her key? She told me, but I forgot.” Nore hooked her hands behind her back, digging a nail into her palm.

Maura closed her lips and tapped them. And after several moments, she finally said, “I’m sorry, little Emilie, I cannot betray your mother’s trust like that.”

“So you know and you’re just not going to tell me?” Nore’s irritation rose.

Maura hesitated. “I should be getting back.”

“Maura.”

But the maid kept walking.

“Maura!” She didn’t turn around. Nore really only had one ally here. She could search her mother’s bedroom, maybe, but she’d have to sneak in there after lunch, during her lab hours. Her stomach rumbled again, and this time it wouldn’t take no for an answer. She was late to meet Ell. She wasn’t facing her mother at lunch alone. Someone had to run interference.

When she crossed the bridge into the Hall of Discovery, she eyed the trick wall where the family vault hid. She tsked, no closer to knowing how to get inside. Her brother appeared, setting a stack of crates against the wall beside several others, before wiping his hands on his pants.

“Ready for lunch?” he asked.

“Are all brothers gross? Or is it just you?”

He flipped his hair, running his fingers through it. “The girls don’t seem to mind.”

“Now I’ve lost my appetite. Thanks.”

The parlor where their mother ate was only for family and house staff. She and her brother entered, and all but the final course had been served. She could feel her mother’s eyes following her. On the way to her chair, she grabbed a copy of Debs Daily to busy her hands. Maybe she could try prying for information on the key with her mother.

“Good afternoon,” Nore said to no one in particular. If she was going to pry, she had to at least pretend to be polite. Ellery pulled out her chair. She thanked him and sat down. She was trying to think of a conversation topic to lead with, when the front-page headline of the paper knocked her heart into her ribs.

Darragh Marionne,
Headmistress at House of Marionne,
to answer for alleged crimes

Nore’s eyes raced across the article.

“Nore? You’ve gone pale.”

It took her a moment to realize her brother was talking to her.

“I’m fine.” She folded the paper and shoved it under the table. If Darragh Marionne burned, Nore was stuck with toushana. She was stuck attached to this Order forever. She had to write to her and soon. A server set a creamy coffee in front of her, and she glared at the cup. She had to pull it together or she would be trapped in this prison—and eventually she’d be dead. Nore cleared her throat and forced herself to look around the table and greet each person. Beside her brother were several of her distant cousins, who apparently were visiting from Alaska. Mother sat at the head of the table all by herself.

“Mother,” Nore said, taking a sip of coffee, trying to blink away an image of Darragh Marionne on fire. “How was your morning?”

Her mother’s brows dipped. Nore realized her hair was behind her shoulders, exposing her earrings. She fixed it and took another sip. “What about you, Ell?”

“All fine. I’ll be out at the stables today to help with the shoveling.”

“There are people who take care of that,” one cousin asserted.

“Yes, and today I’m one of them.”

“Mother, when the ancestors are buried in the courtyard and they’re stripped of their few material possessions, do those things go in the family vault? Or are they disposed of?” Nore may as well go for the kill.

“What do you think?” her mother said, working her teaspoon back and forth in her cup. It was a trick question to engage her in conversation: Nore knew the answer.

“The ancestors believe that the material worth of a thing is not its monetary value but what it represents. And on that spectrum, intellect is something that cannot be bartered. Because it is wholly possessed, intellect will always have more merit than mere possessions. So, I think they burn them.”

Her mother let the silence stretch, but Nore didn’t miss the gleam of satisfaction in Ellery’s eyes. Even her cousin leaned forward at the table to get the full sight of her.

“You happen to be correct,” her mother conceded. “Though on occasion a special item might make it into the family vault. Speaking of which—Ellery, I saw the stuff you left for me today in the Hall.”

Nore leaned over in her chair. “Has she ever let you put those crates inside the vault yourself?”

“Whispering at a table is poor manners, or did you miss that day of etiquette?” Her mother shoved a bite in her mouth. “I’m very sorry, cousins. Forgive their manners.”

Her eldest cousin cleared his throat.

In her most level voice, Nore said, “I’d love to see the vault someday.”

Ellery stared, head cocked.

“You reach above your station quite boldly this morning, Nore.”

Nore bit down the sassy retort that came to mind. She couldn’t back down now. Not when her mother was talking. “I am curious. And curiosity is the seed of intellect. You should be pleased.”

To that, her mother only took another sip, which felt a bit like a win.

“I could go see it on my own if you’re too busy. I’m sure Ellery could assist, as long as you don’t mind giving him the key.”

Her mother chewed silently for a long time before saying, “Claves secretum reginarum.”

The key’s secret is the queen’s, or the secret keys are the queens, or something like that.

“I am the key, child. There is no getting into the vault without me. That access is blood-granted.”

“So then, you’ll take me?” Nore pressed.

Ellery’s spoon clattered on his plate. He silently pleaded with her to stop this before the whole meal imploded. Nore’s mother dabbed the sides of her mouth with a napkin, sighing through her nostrils.

“What is the first consideration when augmenting the density of magic in a person?”

“Knowing their precise bone density before and after Binding.” Nore sat straighter.

“And what would you say was the most impactful development in the postmodernist era of magical innovation?”

“Well, it depends on whether you’re examining that through a Sfentian or Dysiian lens. The latter is probably medicinal uses of toushana. And the former is unarguably the evolution of anointing, allowing a more inclusive Order membership. Not everyone wants to don a crown.”

Her mother smiled cheekily. “And I suppose you also know the elemental composition of each enhancer, along with its prerequisites.”

“I do. Should I list them for you?”

“Did you also know that coming in here late, and dressed so ostentatiously, is a flagrant show of disrespect for the station you presume to hold?” Her mother glared, and something in Nore snapped.

“I answer your condescending questions and you attack my accessories?” She was done tiptoeing around this woman. She pulled her hair back and wound it into a messy bun. She turned her head, touching her earrings, making sure everyone saw them. Her brother watched, his spoon frozen on the way to his mouth.

“I’m looking for a necklace to match.” She sipped her drink. “If anyone has any jeweler recommendations, do let me know.”

“Nore,” her brother muttered.

She leaned across the table. “You know, my first plan was to burn your eyes out of their sockets with Sun Dust, but my brother talked me out of it.”

“And your second plan?” her mother asked, unfazed. “The real reason you’re at my table.”

“For now, it’s to enjoy wearing my earrings.”

Her mother rose from the table. “Ellery, don’t delay.”

“Where are you going?” Nore muttered. “I need your help.”

“I’m proposing to Elena Hargrove today.”

“You’re what?”

A smile curled her mother’s lips.

“You find her boring and—how did you put it? An intellectual dud. You don’t even like the way she smells!”

“It keeps the peace.”

Nore stood so suddenly that her cousins at the end of the table jumped. She glared right at her mother. No one ever told Isla Ambrose the truth. And that was part of the problem.

“You’re a terrible person, Mother.”

Her mother froze.

“You ruin everyone around you. Especially those who should be closest to you.”

Her cousins excused themselves from the table. Her mother did not move or blink. Nore’s heart pounded in her chest. There. She’d told her mother what she really thought of her. What everyone probably thought of her.

“Thank you, dear, for your perceptive assessment of my maternal duties. We can only hope to the Sovereign that, one day, your intellect will match your reckless mouth.” Her mother was about to say more when someone entered and whispered something in her ear. She held her chest. Her mouth thinned. “If you’ll excuse me.” She tossed her napkin on the table. “Oh, and one more thing. You will be at the ball we are hosting this weekend.”

“I will not!”

“You will. Your brother will be announcing his engagement, and you will not be an embarrassment.”

Anger burned in her chest. The audacity of her mother to take away her freedom and her brother’s, when he deserved nothing but the best.

Her mother turned to leave.

“On your list of ways to ruin others’ lives, could you add finding a way to get rid of this t—”

“Mind your tongue.”

The servers froze.

Nore’s mouth snapped shut. Once her mother was gone, she turned to Ellery, who rubbed circles into his temples.

“Letting you kill her would have probably been easier to watch, honestly.” He sighed and pulled out her chair, then kissed her forehead and turned to go. But she grabbed his wrist.

“The night of the ball, can you change me?” she whispered in his ear.

“If this is about the vault, Mother’s the key—which means the vault is not going to open unless it thinks you’re her. She said blood-granted. That means DNA. Anatomer magic doesn’t alter DNA.”

There were other ways to get her DNA. She patted her pockets, and then tried to remember where Maezre Tutom said she could find more enhancer stones and elixir ingredients. “Understood. I think I still have a plan.”

“What are you imagining? You don’t have—” He stopped himself.

“Don’t need it. Never have.” She winked.

“Please don’t do anything dangerous.” He squeezed her shoulders before leaving.

She bit into her knuckle. It wasn’t a perfect plan. But it was a start.