Nightfire | The Whispering Wall #1 - Chapter 50: Chapter 50

"Spit it out, boy. What's bothering you?"
"What? Oh, nothing."
"You haven't said a thing all day."
"Haven't had anything to say."
Yddris looked at him. Jordan glowered back.
In the distance, a demon howled. Jordan tried not to flinch. He'd much rather have been behind the safety of Yddris's walls so he could pretend demons didn't exist. Instead he was out in the city at night, looking for them. His magic hummed in his head and chest, and the world was a maze of rune-warded walls. Some glowed so brightly it was hard to make out the buildings they were written on.
Shadow's Reach was a very different place in total darkness. When he had first arrived in Nictaven the light had been fading, but there was enough to see by, and there were people everywhere conducting their business. In the dark season, the city was deathly quiet except for the roars of the demons, and the few people who did venture out had no interest in loitering. Every now and then they passed rune-warded wagons carrying goods across the city, and the runes looked even flimsier a defence when drawn on a wooden cart.
The job they were on was more of an abstract concept to him, in the grand scheme of things. Since the island, he hadn't been in close range with any of the more dangerous demons and it was hard to imagine doing so – and that was if he'd been trying to visualise it, which he hadn't.
He'd got up that morning and encountered a much more immediate problem when staring into the mirror he used for shaving; his hair had turned completely white, and the faint beginnings of rune scarring marred his face. He didn't look like himself anymore. His eyes glowed brighter since Yddris had allowed him more freedom over his magic, and the person in the mirror looked like a demon hunter; a far cry from how he felt. If he walked up to the castle without his cloak on, he wasn't sure even his sister would recognise him.
Thinking about Grace hurt. She had never been very good at concealing her feelings, though she liked to think she was, and every time he saw her he noticed the distance between them growing. She didn't meet his eyes anymore. She'd tried to see him when he was held overnight at the castle and been turned away, but after he was released he'd heard nothing from her, even though Yddris was at the castle almost every day since.
He didn't know how to make it better.
"Just thinking about stuff," he muttered. Yddris conveyed the tone of a raised eyebrow from his stance. Jordan hadn't thought it possible to be so expressive without using one's face, but the Unspoken were masters of it. The more time he spent with them, the more he picked up their mood without needing to see expressions.
"Stuff, huh?" Yddris muttered. "That's enlightening."
Jordan grunted, scowling.
They entered the market place. The last time Jordan had been to the market, he hadn't known he had magic, and a religious zealot swore at him from across the square. The memory of it made his wrist ache, even though the swelling was finally going down. Nika had confirmed nothing was broken, but it still hurt if he overdid things. He was getting good at working with his left arm.
The square was deserted. When there was no market, it was just a blank stretch of cobblestones, branching into several other streets which led from all directions. People were at home in the buildings around the square; light flickered in the windows, and sometimes Jordan heard laughter or raised voices, but they were the only people outside.
"It's eerie," he muttered.
"You think so?" Yddris replied absently. He was facing one of the branching streets , head tilted to one side. "It's about to get worse."
Jordan turned as something huge lumbered around the corner at the top of the road. It walked on two legs, but its arms were strangely elongated so that it slouched like an ape. A thick mass of spines covered its back. It didn't appear to notice them; it wasn't even looking in their direction. It stopped in front of one of the buildings and rocked back on its haunches, staring intently at the wall in front of it. Then it lifted one huge arm and punched through the front door.
Yddris was halfway up the road towards it when Jordan finally gathered the wits to move. The last thing he wanted to do was get closer, but staying with his tutor was safer, and someone inside the house had just begun screaming.
He reached the wreckage. Yddris drew runes in the air faster than Jordan could follow them. He had backed the demon into a corner, and opposite huddled a family with two children, the parents with their hands over the kids' eyes.
All the demons Jordan had seen were hideous, but this one took some kind of prize for sheer ugliness. Its eyes, glossy and pitch dark, blinked over a gaping, wet mouth full of sharp teeth. It resembled a hairless dog, only huge, ugly and significantly more dangerous. It smelled so terrible that it was like walking into a wall of odour the moment he stepped over the threshold, and it took all his effort not to reel back into the street at the shock of it. It was oddly sweet, cloying and sickly, like rotten meat. It caught in his eyes and throat.
Yddris finished casting runes. In his hand instead sat a long weapon like a javelin, made entirely of magic; with his assisted sight, Jordan saw green flames wicking off it like steam off water, and its concentration resonated in his skull and set his teeth on edge.
The demon roared and lunged, but it wasn't aiming for Yddris; it was aiming for one of the children cowering behind him, and Jordan stood right in its escape route if it bailed on the attempt.
He ducked inside, not sure what he planned to do, and regretted it immediately as Yddris dealt a blow to the demon's midriff. The blazing weapon scorched the parts it touched, hissing lightly and releasing an acrid smell of burnt hair into the room. The demon growled, skittering across the floor to try and get around Yddris's range, but the space was too small and cramped for it to get out of the weapon's reach. Yddris jabbed it again, this time drawing thick, sticky blood that trailed over the floor as it dropped to all fours and tried to rush him.
"No, you don't," Yddris muttered. His hand flickered with more runes. Two thick pikes of solid magic formed in the air and pinned the demon's paws to the floor, and Yddris quickly stepped up behind it and shoved his weapon between its shoulders. The creature's momentum carried its back legs forward for just a moment, and then they crashed to the floor with a thud. Jordan jumped and stared in horror at the carcass as Yddris sighed and let go of his weapon.
"You'll need to stay at a community shelter tonight," he said to the family, as calmly as if he hadn't just floored a behemoth. "They'll help you apply for a grant to replace the damage. You'll want to apply for the money to have your rune net repaired and checked for more weaknesses, as well, if you don't have it available."
The father nodded, swallowing. Already the fear was fading from his face, replaced by a look of weary resignation. Even the children didn't look as horrified as Jordan felt. They were used to it, he realised. Used to the threat of this happening, perhaps even seeing it as inevitable that someday they would be the ones to be attacked, that their luck would run out.
The demon twitched.
"Yddris," Jordan murmured.
One of the children started crying, drowning him out. A claw twitched. It wasn't dead. How it wasn't dead, he had no idea – Yddris must have severed its spine with that blow – but sure enough it began struggling. The weapons had long since dissipated like puffs of smoke, and there was nothing holding it down.
"Yddris!" he yelled. He lunged forward without thinking, and grabbed the child which had just wandered into the demon's path as it lurched forward. The tip of a claw ripped through the fabric of Jordan's trousers and he yelped, hoping it hadn't broken skin. He smelled rotten breath on his face for just a moment before Yddris drove the demon back with a blazing flame. Jordan put the girl down and pushed her back towards her parents as his own magic roared to the surface at the threat, erupting over his arms. He was glad he had left Ren back at Yddris's house, because he had no control over where it went, and she would undoubtedly have been injured; where Yddris's flame burned clean, Jordan left scorch marks on the floor and the wall behind him.
"Get outside, boy," Yddris snapped, driving a second spear through the demon's skull. "Before you burn the whole place down."
When he remembered how his limbs worked, Jordan bolted through the wreckage of the door and into the street, and didn't stop until he stood in the centre of the empty market square where his fire wouldn't touch any buildings. His breath heaved out of him, escaping a chest tight with heat. He was burning up; it was so hot.
He looked around for anything he could use to cool himself down, but there was nothing; no puddles or barrels of water. The wind was cold against his face as he wrenched down his hood, but it scraped across his skin like rough carpet and made it all worse.
Yddris emerged from the street at a run.
"It's too much," Jordan panted, "make it stop."
There was fire in his lungs, and he barely dragged in enough oxygen to see straight. Stars clouded his vision, but he didn't realise he was falling until his knees hit the cobbles. The pain was sharp and cut through the blazing fog long enough for him to register what Yddris was saying.
"Focus on me," his tutor said, and his hands squeezed Jordan's shoulders. They were kneeling together. When had Yddris moved? "Only me, nothing else."
It was difficult. He barely had enough vision left to see a few inches in front of him, let alone focus on a figure dressed in black in the middle of the night.
"Make it stop," he whimpered. A tear evaporated on his cheek before it reached his chin.
"Focus."
He focused. It was like dragging his thoughts through cement, but he managed to zero in on his tutor's hidden face at last. Two pinpricks of bright green reflected back at him from the depths of the cowl. He concentrated his gaze on them, willing his mind away from the heat roaring through him, and the fact that his sweat was burning off him before it had even formed, and that his eyes felt like they were drying out.
Slowly, the pain receded.
He didn't realise it at first, but then he felt the wind against his skin and it didn't grate against it anymore. His breaths came deeper and fuller, even though his lungs and throat were scorched. His vision returned.
"Maybe it was too soon for a patrol," Yddris murmured, letting go of him. He stood up and offered Jordan a hand. After a moment Jordan took it. He shook where he stood. Even in a city brimming with demons, he felt like the biggest danger out tonight. He'd had no control. If Yddris hadn't been there, would it ever stop?
"What happened?" he gasped. "What was that? Why didn't you switch it off, or whatever it is you do?"
His whole body went ice cold, and his muscles seized at the shock. He went down on one knee again, blinking in the sudden blackness. An instant later, everything returned to normal.
"That's why," Yddris said. He sounded grave, and oddly sad. "The first few weeks after manifesting, you can get by just fine without magic. Your body's adjusting; it's not used to having it yet. After that stage, cutting it off is painful. When you've had it for years, the shock can be deadly." Yddris sighed. "Unfortunately, it means that we need to work harder at getting you to control yourself."
Jordan blinked hard and shook his head, trying to clear the shock from his system. It had been worse than the burning, that sudden empty coldness. That desolate feeling of abrupt isolation.
He turned at a noise behind him, and found the family Yddris had just saved hovering at the edge of the market square looking nervous. Behind them they dragged a canvas tarpaulin containing the demon's body. The girl Jordan had saved started forward, but was dragged back by her mother, who looked scared. Scared of him, he realised, scared of his lack of control. Without the demon there, he was the biggest threat to them.
He wanted to be sick. He wanted to go home – really go home, not just Yddris's house. He wanted to talk to Grace, and at the same time never wanted her to find out about this. He wanted to run until the accusing, frightened stares were gone.
"Hood back up, boy," Yddris muttered. Jordan fumbled for it, grateful for the distraction. He brushed off the knees of his trousers and straightened out his clothes and fiddled with his hair, all to prolong having to go back and stand in front of that family like he hadn't almost burned their home to the ground. "We'll walk them to the community shelter, and then we'll find Nika and he'll take you home."
Jordan's heart sped up. "You're leaving me? After that?"
"Nika knows how to deal with it," Yddris said. Jordan thought he was trying for a reassuring tone, but it came out strange and forced. "He won't leave you on your own."
"And what are you going to do?"
"I haven't been back to the Guildtown since Nika's induction," Yddris said, "There are certain duties to the running of the Guild I get a free pass on. The least I can do is turn up for all the patrols I'm signed up for."
Before Jordan could respond, Yddris went back to the family. Jordan stayed at a distance. His skin still buzzed with friction. His magic roiled too close to the surface, so that he almost expected to see it when he shook his sleeve up. No one had told him he would come to rely on his magic; it had seemed like extra, something on top of essential things like oxygen and water, something he didn't need. That brief second without it told him otherwise.
There wasn't anything for it; he had to talk to Grace about this. She had to come up with a plan. She was always the one with the good ideas.
He trailed behind Yddris and the family on their way to the shelter, conscious that they were still darting nervous looks at him. Even though the father had thanked Yddris profusely, almost to the point of tears with gratitude, Jordan was made to feel like an undetonated bomb. If all the patrols were going to be like this, Yddris was going to have to drag him from the house kicking and screaming.
The shelter was a large hall, set on the outskirts of the quarter. There were already people in it, many of whom looked like they'd become homeless without the help of demons. Women in blue uniforms moved among the campers, their hair braided and their faces covered from the nose down. Jordan watched one girl carry a tub of warm water for bathing a baby across the hall, and then another who was suturing a leg wound. Three more transported a man with a bandaged head on a stretcher, disappearing into a side room. Despite how busy it was, the women were relaxed and calm, and moved with brisk efficiency.
"There's a space over there," one of the women said, approaching them as they entered with the family. She bent down to address the children. "Are you hungry?"
"Let's go, boy," Yddris murmured. Jordan wanted to stay in the bubble of calm in the shelter, but made himself leave. The people in this hall had had enough danger for one night without him making it worse.
The demon Yddris had killed lay at the bottom of the shelter steps, still wrapped in its tarpaulin. A hooded figure stood beside it.
"That was fast," Yddris said. Jordan blinked.
"How did you know..." he asked Nika, who chuckled.
"You'll learn how soon enough. What happened?"
"Had a fleshmonger break through a weak link in the rune net of a citizen's home," Yddris said. "There was a near miss."
"And by near miss, you mean I almost burnt the place down instead," Jordan said. He folded his arms and tried not to look Nika in the face.
"I see." Nika's tone was warm, but Jordan felt undeserving of it. He could have killed people. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd almost killed himself by accident. "That's understandable. I'll take you back."
They fell silent as a bell echoed over the city.
"That's not good," Yddris said. "That's not good at all."
"What is it?" Jordan asked.
"A distress signal," Yddris said. He tightened the knots of the tarpaulin around the demon and dragged it around the side of the hall. "Sounds like Orthan's temple bell. Means they've been breached."
"By a demon?"
"Possibly. Nika?"
"I'll take care of him. You go."
Yddris ran off into the dark.
"I hope it's a demon," Nika muttered.
Jordan frowned. "Why?"
"Demons are predictable. Their damage can be limited." Nika looked away, in the direction of a second toll. Jordan followed his gaze. A temple spire, surrounded by dozens of candles, was just visible over the roofline.
"What else would it be?"
"A person with a great level of skill in breaking and entering."
Jordan should have seen where this was going.
"And a Devil assault can be both unpredictable and catastrophic," Nika continued. He looked at Jordan, who tried not to flinch as images of Arlen and the weight of a decision loomed in his mind. Could Nika tell? Did he know what Jordan's fear meant? "Just be grateful you've never met one."
"Yeah," Jordan murmured. "Sounds bad."
The bell tolled again.
Shit.