Nightfire | The Whispering Wall #1 - Chapter 39: Chapter 39

Jordan lay flat on his back and stared at the ceiling. His head was throbbing under his bandages, and though the bed beneath him was soft and warm, it did nothing to dispel the dull ache in his spine and shoulders from being tied to the chair in the warehouse. He would've given a limb for some painkillers, but Nika had only had a soothing gel made out of some stinky plant in his supplies. The gel had been nice, but it had worn off hours ago and left him with renewed pain and a sticky back.
He lay in one of the guestroom beds at the castle. He had wanted to go back to Yddris's and pretend it had all been a horrible dream, but the lord had insisted they stay until the district around the warehouse had been thoroughly searched. Yddris hadn't been too happy about it, either, but Jordan had ruined any argument he might have made by fainting in the lord's study.
Now he was here, and he felt even worse than before.
Someone knocked on the door, and Jordan grunted a vague affirmation.
Grace crept inside, Ren cradled in her arms. Despite himself, his mouth pulled into a smile and he held out his hands. Ren squeaked and jumped from Grace's arms to scramble up his leg, and then she stopped on his chest, sniffing at the bandages and kneading his tunic with her claws. He chuckled and ran a hand through her soft fur, and some of the tension in his chest eased.
"Who brought her?" he murmured, angling his head away with a grin as Ren tried to lick his chin.
Grace giggled and came to sit in the chair beside the bed. "Another apprentice. His name was Kane or something."
"Koen," Jordan said. "He's here?"
"He said he'd visit you soon. He's going to do some rune work on the barracks. I think that's what he told me." She wrinkled her nose. "What's rune work?"
"Oh, they're like...instructions for magic. I don't even know, really. I haven't done any."
"He seemed nice."
"Yeah. Yeah, he's pretty good."
"A friend?"
"I suppose so."
"Nika seems nice, too," Grace said. "I don't know what to think of Yddris."
Jordan laughed and the sound felt foreign in his mouth, but good. Relieving. "Nobody does."
Grace nodded and reached out to stroke Ren, who had squatted down on Jordan's chest and hooked her claws into his clothes. The shadowrunner rolled onto her side, gently rumbling.
"I'm sorry about the other day," Grace said without looking at him. "I wasn't really thinking."
It took Jordan a second to remember what she was talking about. His head was still so full of what had happened in the last few hours, and yet so empty at the same time. The events of a few days ago felt like a distant dream.
"Oh, that," he said, and made a noncommittal gesture with one hand, "Oh, don't worry about that. I overreacted."
"I don't think you did," Grace said. She gave him a serious look. He didn't miss the nervous glance at the bandages around his head and scowled; if she was going to assume he was addled, that was on her. He felt perfectly rational. "I said some stupid things, and I've been thinking about it and I know how stupid they were now."
"What's up, Grace?"
"What?"
He looked at her. "Don't play dumb, I know when something's wrong. What's happened? Did she say something to you? Has she upset you?"
"No, no," Grace said, a blush spreading over her cheeks. "No, I just... Forgot that we'd really only just met. That I don't really know her that well." She shrugged. "I can kinda see why you reacted the way you did."
"Grace..."
"She's not sure," Grace blurted. "I can tell she's not sure, and it made me realise that I was being a bit full-on. I always come on too strong."
Jordan reached out and clasped her hand in his. She squeezed his fingers back.
"I don't think she's against it, either, though," she said, in a distinctly brighter tone. "I suppose she just doesn't expect it...in her situation."
"Give it some time," Jordan said. He fidgeted on the bed and groaned as pain spiked through his back. "If you still feel that way, we'll make some kind of plan."
A brief pause followed, and then Grace leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm so glad you're okay, Joe."
Thinking that 'okay' might have been a bit strong, he forced a weak smile for her. They both looked around as Nika entered carrying a dinner tray, a bowl of something ambiguous, a pitcher of water and two thick slices of bread arranged on it.
"That looks ghastly," Jordan said, staring at the contents of the bowl as Nika set the tray on the bedside dresser.
"If it's good for you, it often does," the Unspoken said lightly. "Can you sit up?"
"I've never seen food that shade of green," Jordan muttered. "Actually, yeah I have, but it was the colour of the mould growing on it."
"Oh, don't whine. You're as bad as Yddris."
"That's not a compliment, is it?"
"Not in the least."
Jordan hissed through his teeth as he levered himself up, pausing to let Grace adjust a pillow behind him before sinking down again with a sigh. Ren clambered off his lap and settled on the spare pillow instead. Nika put the tray down in her place, and it looked even more unappetising up close.
"We'll have to get something like this," the Unspoken said, poking the pillow behind Jordan. "I'm not having you on that bed at Yddris's in the state you're in, you'll do permanent damage."
"What's wrong with that bed?" Yddris grunted, wandering in just as he was stuffing his pipe back into an inside pocket of his cloak.
"Only that's it's as much good as a slab of rock," Nika said tartly. The atmosphere had kicked up a few degrees, the way it did in the house when Nika and Yddris had a spat over something. Somehow Jordan wasn't surprised, though he was impressed that they'd managed to get into a fight so quickly.
"I thought you two were happy to see each other," he muttered, taking a spoonful of soup and letting it slide back into the bowl with a wet plop.
He sensed rather than saw Yddris and Nika exchange a glance. At their unspoken question, he shrugged.
"It's easy to tell," he said. He forced himself to take a mouthful and swallow it before he tasted anything, but even so he was able to establish that it tasted even worse than it looked.
"I see," Nika said, not sounding particularly happy about it. "Well, it's nothing. As usual."
Jordan glanced sidelong at Grace, who stifled a giggle at his expression.
"Can we talk for a minute, boy?" Yddris said. He was still hovering in the doorway, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. There had been something wrong ever since the Unspoken had found him and Laurel at the warehouse, but even after they'd dropped Laurel off at home, Yddris hadn't been forthcoming about what had happened at the inn after Jordan was taken. Nika left without another word, and as Yddris approached the bed Jordan saw that the limp he hadn't been sure about on the way back was definitely not a figment of his imagination.
"I'll see you after dinner," Grace said. She hadn't taken her eyes off Yddris. "I'm on break then."
She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek again before hurrying out, closing the door behind her and leaving Jordan with his unresponsive tutor and a bowl of vile soup for company. Ren squeaked and turned over as if to remind him she was there, and he reached out to rub her belly as he waited for Yddris to say something.
His tutor remained silent for a long time, clasping the bedpost in one hand and staring into the corner of the room. Jordan picked at his soup, and gave up on it when he ran out of bread to scoop it up with.
"When you said talk, I kind of assumed you'd say something," Jordan said after a minute, only half-joking. Sleep looked inviting at that moment and he hadn't had enough of it in recent weeks. He thought he might even have been tired enough to avoid nightmares this time.
Yddris hesitated before sitting on the end of the bed. Then he said, almost at a murmur, "You always have a choice. You know that, don't you?"
Ignoring the jolt his heart made, Jordan replied, "It doesn't feel like it. Nothing I've done here has been my choice."
His tutor sighed. "I know."
"But?"
"But...it's good to know the difference between the times you don't have a choice, and when it only feels that way."
"Well, yeah." Jordan scowled. This was just irritating. "But the choices put in front of me always seem to be 'do it or Grace dies'. Do it or you'll hurt someone. Do it or you'll get run out of town. Not really a choice, is it?"
"I know."
Jordan frowned. He had never heard his tutor sound so hopeless, and he wasn't entirely clear on why it even was. Yddris hadn't been there when Marick had spoken to Jordan, and there was no way he would know.
"What happened after I left?" he asked. Yddris finally looked at him, but didn't say anything. "With Usk? You've been acting weird since you found us."
"Nothing of note," Yddris replied. "He was just distracting me so they could take you."
"You fought?"
"He came out of it worse than I did."
"He was huge."
"Varthians generally are."
"...Nice."
Yddris chuckled. Jordan contemplated asking about the message Usk had mentioned, but had a feeling he would be overstepping a boundary. He was abruptly aware of how little he knew about this man. Grace was the only person he really knew in this place; he couldn't say anything much at all about Yddris, beyond how he chose to teach. Feeling himself on a slippery slope with those thoughts, Jordan said, "So what have you and Nika argued about now?"
"Why I didn't come back straight away when I realised you were gone."
Jordan hadn't thought of it that way. "Why didn't you?"
"Because I know that man," Yddris said, very softly, and though he hadn't specified anyone, Jordan knew he was talking about Marick. A chill ran down his spine. "He would have had you both killed if he even suspected I had sent for help."
"Did you tell Nika this?"
The next pause was long enough that Jordan thought Yddris wasn't going to answer, but then the Unspoken just said, "No."
"He doesn't know who had me."
"No."
"Does the lord know?"
"No." Jordan sat back on the bed. Before he could say anything in response, however, Yddris continued. "And it would be better if you didn't tell them either. He has ears everywhere. If he thinks you've squealed, you won't live to tell anyone else."
"And Arlen?"
"What about him?"
"He was there."
Yddris stared. "He was?"
"Yeah." Jordan hated where this was going, but it was oddly relieving to know that at least one person understood what he was dealing with – not that it made him feel any safer. "That...that man didn't expect him to be there, but he arrived later. He said...that Arlen had taken a liking to me." To his chagrin, he felt like crying. "Everyone has an axe hanging over Grace's head because of me. Because I have this stupid Gift and she doesn't."
Yddris looked to be on the verge of responding when someone came to the door. Jordan wiped his face with the heels of his palms, and baulked when he saw Lord Harkenn hovering in the doorway, looking deeply unhappy. Yddris got to his feet.
"My lord," he said.
"They haven't found anything," the lord said. Jordan breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "When the boy is well enough you are free to go."
"Thank you, my lord."
"There are three cornered thralls in the soldiers' bathhouse. Go and sort them out for me."
"Yes, my lord."
Lord Harkenn swept the room with a glare before turning on his heel and leaving. Yddris walked to the door. At the last moment he turned.
"Play the game for now, boy," he said. "But play carefully."
As his tutor left, a shudder rocked Jordan's body. Ren squeaked and clambered back into his lap.
"I'm waist-deep in shit, aren't I?" Jordan murmured to her. "I'm going to drown in it."
He didn't remember falling asleep, only that at some point his candles had all burned down to the wick except one, and his room was darker than before. He sat up, slowly. Someone had been in – his soup tray was gone and his sheets had been pulled up around his shoulders. Judging by the light, Grace had visited on her break and found him asleep. While he knew he needed the sleep, he was annoyed that she hadn't woken him. He barely got to see her, and he was here for once. Sleep be damned.
He blinked the gumminess from his eyes and felt around on the bedside dresser. In the drawer he found another candle and a box of matches; he plucked the spent candle out of the holder, spilling wax over the surface, and then pushed the new one onto the spike and lit it.
He located Ren on the end of his bed, facing away from him. She was awake, tail swishing and fur erect.
"What are you doing?" he mumbled, throat dry from sleeping with his mouth open. He took up the candle to scan the floor for shadelings, and almost dropped it when the light fell on a pair of boots instead.
"Oh, fuck," he said, and his magic blazed to life over his hands and arms; Yddris was probably asleep. Immediately the room began to smell of singed linen.
"Nict, boy," Arlen hissed, stepping out of the blaze of green light, "Put that out."
"Can't," Jordan said, breathless, "Gotta wait." As the shock wore off, anger seeped in. "Don't know what you were expecting, scaring me like that."
"You seem to have avoided spontaneous bonfires so far," Arlen said, lowering his arm from his face. "I let you know I was coming."
Jordan scowled. He had known the assassin was following him ever since they left the inn. "Didn't think you'd be watching me sleep."
"I wasn't... Ugh, what do you take me for?"
"A criminal."
Arlen pulled down the scarf around his mouth. "Fair."
Jordan narrowed his eyes. "So, what happens now?"
"I was hoping you would tell me. What did Marick say to you?"
"You heard it, didn't you?"
"I find it hard to believe he went to all that trouble just to convince you to apprentice to me," Arlen said.
"That was pretty much the gist of it." He shrugged. "He never told me what he wanted from me."
"You and me both," Arlen muttered, clearly annoyed. His blind eye gleamed in the candlelight, and Jordan didn't realise he was staring until the assassin inclined his head to fix him with a look.
"S-sorry," he stuttered, and then stopped himself, "Wait, no, I'm not sorry. You broke into my bedroom while I was asleep."
Arlen grinned. "See if I care, boy, at least you've got the balls to meet it."
The man strode to the end of the bed and jumped onto the footboard, slipping into a crouch. Ren growled and clambered into Jordan's lap, fur bristling. Jordan shuffled further back, aching spine forgotten, as he spotted a long hunting knife sitting on Arlen's belt. Still smiling, Arlen ran a gloved finger along the flat of the blade. "You like it?"
"Can't say I do."
"It was my brother's," Arlen said. Jordan looked at the knife again. It was hard to reconcile Arlen with the idea of a family.
"You have a brother?"
"Had."
Jordan shuddered, and closed his mouth against the inevitable question. If Arlen had killed his brother, Jordan certainly didn't want to know about it.
"So I apprentice to you...theoretically," he finally said. He wanted to run for the door, scream for help, anything – but Arlen still had a firm grip on his knife, and he was Marick's man. Grace was in this castle, too. Yddris's words echoed through his head as he swallowed and pushed on, "And my sister is safe? How do I know that's true?"
"You don't," Arlen said. He readjusted himself so he was leaning against the bedpost. "But then, Marick doesn't make deals he doesn't intend to honour. She won't be in any danger from him."
"That's vague."
"Well..." Arlen frowned. "He controls a gang of crims. Can't keep every one of them under watch every minute of the day. Punishment can only be dealt after the crime."
"And let me guess, training with you gives me a better chance of helping her stay safe."
"You said it, not me." Arlen raised a brow. "Gotta know criminals to think like one. Won't get that drawing magic pictures out of fuck-all."
"And why do you want me to apprentice to you so badly?"
Arlen cocked his head, and Jordan was expecting some other smart-aleck response. For once, though, the assassin appeared to take the question seriously.
"Takes mettle, to do what I do," he finally said. "I think you've got it. Don't see it often."
Jordan snorted. "I had a panic attack after I saw an Unspoken take out a demon for the first time. I think you have the wrong person."
"Not the same thing," Arlen replied, unfazed. "I know what I'm looking for when I see it. And then I get that thing. You get me?"
"I'm getting it." He paused. "But I'm not killing people."
Arlen made a vague gesture. "Don't need to. All sorts else I can teach you."
Jordan picked at the edge of his duvet and glanced at the door, but no one came through it. The magic that had burst its constraints had died down to a simmer, a gentle flicker of emerald over his skin. He didn't feel any calmer, but he supposed it wasn't the same thing. He glanced at the door again.
"Well, if I don't have to kill anyone, I guess..."
He looked up as Arlen swore and dropped down from the footboard, dashing across the room to the narrow window and hooking himself onto the ledge.
"Marick wants an answer soon. I'll find you, and you better have one when I do," he said, eyes flashing as he pulled his scarf back over his face and dropped out of sight. The bedroom door swung open.
Yddris stared at the open window for a long moment, and Jordan let out a shuddering breath.
"You could've timed that better."
There was no reply.