Nightfire | The Whispering Wall #1 - Chapter 59: Chapter 59

Jordan looked up from his sketchbook. Something had changed.
He closed the book on his last bit of rune practice – still infuriatingly difficult, and showing no signs of easing up – and crept to his bedroom door. He had avoided everyone since getting back from seeing Grace earlier in the day, but even in his isolation he noticed when the atmosphere shifted.
Then he heard someone wailing.
He stepped out into the corridor, frowning. The hallway was plugged with Unspoken, their backs turned to him as they watched something unfold in the front room. The one closest turned as he came up behind them.
"What's happening?" Jordan murmured.
The Unspoken struggled for a minute, and then Ortin, the namekeeper's, voice said, "Another death."
Jordan swallowed. "A murder?"
Ortin nodded. "Kolter." It sounded familiar; Jordan had heard that name in passing. "Astra's tutor."
"Oh." Jordan blinked. "Oh god."
A rush of confused emotions crossed his thoughts and evaded all his efforts to make sense of them. He clenched his fists until the leather of his gloves squeaked, muscles painfully tight, but all the tension left him in one great sweep at the next thing out of Ortin's mouth.
"Nika was there."
"What? Is he alright?" Jordan's heart clambered into his throat and stayed there. Nika was strange, and distant at times, but he had become familiar over the weeks. How familiar, Jordan only understood at the flood of panic washing through him. He frantically scanned the clustered Unspoken, trying to see beyond them.
"He's uninjured, if that's what you mean."
"Is Yddris here?"
"He doesn't know yet. He's at the castle in a city meeting."
"I need to see Nika."
Jordan scooted from one side to the other, but couldn't find a way through. He jumped as an arm passed over his shoulder and tapped another Unspoken on the back.
"Let the boy through," Ortin murmured.
Far from the scene he braced himself to find in the front room, the Unspoken were all gathered in sombre silence around Nika, who sat in Yddris's only chair clutching a bottle of drink. His other hand held a glass, but it didn't look like he'd been using it; as Jordan broke through the circle, Nika paused in whatever he'd been saying and took a long swig directly from the bottle. Jordan looked around. He'd heard wailing, but there were no other apprentices here, and he wouldn't admit how relieved he was that there was no body, either.
He started to step into the circle to see Nika, but hesitated at the feeling of eyes on him around the room. He hadn't thought it through; he didn't know what he had been thinking to achieve. Nika's anger from the night before was still fresh in his mind. Maybe the Unspoken didn't want to see him, least of all after the death of his friend. But his appearance had still had an effect; the silence was expectant. He shrank into his cloak, wishing he'd brought Ren with him.
"Jordan," Nika croaked, making a feeble attempt at raising the bottle to him.
"What were you saying about the sword, Nika?" someone prompted, when the quiet stretched too long. Jordan's face was burning. He wasn't sure if he was more ashamed of himself for not making the effort to fill in the gaps, or more embarrassed that he'd thought Nika would have anything to say to him.
With seemingly great effort, Nika refocused, fingers flexing around the neck of the bottle. "It was this big, curved thing. Looked like a normal sword otherwise. Very sharp. There was a scratch on his arm where the attacker touched him with it." He took in a long, shuddering breath. "That must have been when it stopped his magic. When it cut him."
"I've never heard anything like it in all my years," someone else breathed. "A blade that can sever the connection to Nictaven. Sinister, I say. And that's being optimistic."
"I think that's what killed him," Nika murmured. It no longer sounded like he was talking to anyone in particular. "The shock of it. The attacker was no great fighter, at least, not a match for Kolter under...under any normal circumstances. They took us all by surprise."
"Did they get away?"
"No. They're dead. An off-duty city guard bludgeoned them to death."
The speaker huffed. "Much as I'm glad the bastard isn't still on the loose..."
"I doubt they would have answered questions." Nika's voice cracked. "There was something wrong about them. They felt...off. I don't know how to explain it, but it wasn't natural."
The silence that fell this time was laden with fear. Jordan swallowed. Nika could easily have died in that situation, and it occurred to him that he'd begun to see the Unspoken as almost untouchable. The fact that they weren't was an embarrassing shock. It could have been Yddris that was killed. Or Hap. What would become of Astra now, without her tutor? What would happen to Jordan if Yddris was killed? He wouldn't say they were close, but Jordan knew Yddris and Nika better than anyone else in this hellpit, aside from his sister, and the thought of losing even that much was like peering into an abyss.
"But they didn't cut you?" Jordan asked, unaware that he'd even been planning to speak. "You're not hurt?"
Nika's voice, when he replied, was softer than before. "No, Jordan. I'm alright. At least as far as that's concerned."
Jordan sucked in a deep breath that ached on the way down, and was horrified to find tears in his eyes. Astra wailed again, somewhere behind him. They were in the cellar, he realised. The body, too, probably. Bile rose in his throat. He was sure some of what he was feeling was an effect of the heavy, thick-as-mud atmosphere of grief and fear in the room, but it felt as real as his own. "Well that's something," he whispered. "I guess."
Nika heaved himself out of the chair and stumbled. Jordan strode forward and caught him before he fell over again, wincing as the man's return grip turned vice-like.
It was loneliness that made him do it, or a hangover from the strange meeting with his sister. He let go of Nika, and immediately pulled him into a hug. The Unspoken went rigid with surprise, then slowly relaxed. An arm wrapped around Jordan's shoulders and squeezed. He hoped that meant he was forgiven for the last few days, at least for now.
"Anyone would think you were his tutor, Nika," someone said behind them. Jordan pulled away, wiping his eyes angrily. That was dumb. Dumb and insensitive of him, while Astra was downstairs.
"Has anyone been sent to the castle yet?" he muttered, suddenly eager to escape the house.
"No," Nika replied. "I should go. I was there, and Harkenn will want to know everything. We can't expect Astra to go."
"I'll come with you."
He expected Nika to stop him, but the man just looked at him for a moment and then nodded.
"Are you sure that's wise, Nika?" Hap's voice said from the doorway. The old man hobbled in, sighing. He sounded tired. "One of us should go. Yddris can report back when necessary."
"I'm going," Nika said firmly. He glanced at the bottle and put it down on the window ledge. Hap's stance suggested a raised eyebrow. "Jordan will be there, and I'm certain Yddris will come back with us. It's not far."
"I would send Koen with you," Hap murmured, still unconvinced.
"No. Astra needs him here."
"We all know the guards won't let anyone else interrupt a city meeting, Hap," someone muttered. "No matter what you scream at 'em. Yddris's two have the best chances of seeing Harkenn tonight."
Jordan fidgeted at 'Yddris's two'. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, but he was oddly eager to see Yddris all the same. They hadn't spoken in days, and Jordan hadn't thanked Yddris for that night. He'd had a lot of time to think about it, and the more he did, the more he realised just how much Yddris had put on the line for him.
Hap gave in with a sigh and a tired hand gesture. Nika only wobbled a little on his way to the door, but moments later they were outside, breathing in welcome fresh air.
"Stay close," Nika said. All traces of inebriation were gone from his voice. Now the Unspoken was scanning the streets around them, looking hunted. Jordan tried to imagine what Nika might have seen, that would reduce a man who could face a Listener without blinking to a shivering wreck. He couldn't, and it was all he could do not to think on it as they set off towards the hulking silhouette of the castle. Fires burned like bright eyes in the many windows, and Jordan fixed on those to keep his attention out of the dark alleyways.
Nika had told Jordan to stay close, but it was Nika who clung to him. Their shoulders brushed as they walked, and hesitantly Jordan put his arm around Nika's. He held his breath, waiting for the man to duck out, but he only let out a shuddering breath and whispered, "Thank you."
They made the rest of the journey in silence. For once Jordan wasn't the only one flinching at every demon's scream. The great castle gates were shut for the first time that Jordan had seen, but a fire still burned in the gatehouse. Nika gathered himself and strode up to the door. He rapped on it four times with his knuckles, and an eye appeared in the peephole.
"Aye?"
"We wish to come in," Nika said irritably. "Obviously."
"Name and business?"
"Nika. This is Yddris's apprentice. It's urgent."
The eye was replaced by a grubby hand scratching at a stubbly chin. "Right. There's a meeting on, you know that?"
"And I assure you we wouldn't be interrupting it if it wasn't very important." Nika leaned in. "I watched a colleague die tonight. I watched him murdered in a fashion I didn't think possible before today. If you do not let me in this door right fucking now, I'll demonstrate how it happened on you."
The hand ceased scratching. "Seems like you should you be coming in," the guard muttered, and the door swung open. Wary eyes watched them pass from under the lip of a helmet. "Wait here one moment, sirs, and I'll send word ahead."
He shuffled away. Jordan swallowed.
"That was...impressive."
"I wouldn't call it that," Nika muttered. "Sorry, Jordan, I got carried away there."
Jordan shrugged, though the whole performance had bothered him more than he wanted to admit. He had become used to Nika's strange aura, but that had reminded him tenfold of how much the man used to scare him. It was cold, he thought, like crackling ice rather than fire. It looked the same as every other Unspoken. It felt completely alien.
He shuffled his feet, wishing again that he hadn't left Ren asleep on the bed.
To his surprise, the guard returned with Brillan, the lord's butler.
"Not a second one?" he asked, without preamble. It was hard to read the expression on his face. Nika nodded. "The lord will be most upset."
"Not as much as me," Nika said in a hard voice. "I came to tell Yddris."
"Follow me."
The courtyard was deserted, a stretch of darkness punctuated by spots of light from runes drawn over the cobbles. Jordan recognised a few of them, which might in any other circumstances have given him some small sense of victory. In the light of what they were here for, it only made him nauseous.
The meeting was in session in a vast dining hall. Though there were many attendees, the table was dwarfed by the size of the room. Frescoes covered the walls, the ceilings were ribbed with gold, and crystal chandeliers hung overhead. Dozens of benches and tables were pushed to the back of the room. A host of faces turned to them expectantly when they stepped through onto the raised platform above the main floor, yet somehow Jordan still felt small. Lord Harkenn was at the head of the table, a spilled ink bottle in front of him, a hard set to his mouth. His eyes glinted as they passed over Jordan and Nika.
Jordan met Yddris's gaze at the lord's right side. His tutor cocked his head in question. Jordan just lowered his eyes.
"My Lord," Nika said, and his voice cracked. One of the men at the near end of the table turned to his companion, and they both chuckled. "I..." Nika faltered again. The two men were audible, and no one was shutting them up. Jordan scowled at them, willing them to feel it. One of them looked up at him and hesitated.
"My Lord," Jordan began, when Nika struggled to pick his thread back up. He wondered if Hap might have been right, and was suddenly anxious to hurry it along in case Nika collapsed. "I'm afraid we've come to you with news of another death."
The change in the room was palpable. Harkenn turned rigid. Someone gasped – Jordan thought it might have been Kerrin – but he was watching Yddris. His tutor was eerily still.
"Who?" Harkenn said sharply.
"Kolter," Jordan replied, darting a sidelong look at Nika. "He had an apprentice."
"Night fucking take me!" the lord roared, launching up from his seat and upsetting another inkwell. He stalked off and began to pace on the far side of the hall.
Jordan kept his eyes on Yddris. "Nika was there."
Yddris got to his feet. He moved so swiftly up the long bench that Jordan almost flinched, expecting a collision. Then he did take a startled step back as his tutor embraced Nika in a crushing hug. Jordan had never seen Yddris so much as pat Nika on the back. He became aware he was making stupid, vague noises, and shut up, averting his gaze. Watching them felt strangely intrusive.
"Not a word to anyone, boy," Yddris growled at him as they pulled apart. Jordan went cross-eyed as a gloved finger wagged in his face. "Not a fucking word."
"Good to see you too," Jordan replied, stumbling back.
"What happened?" Yddris demanded, turning back to Nika.
"Those weapons you said that Anarabelle warned you about," Nika said, "They're real. I saw it. It cut Kolter off from Nictaven when it touched him."
Yddris's hands convulsed. A low crackling hum started in the air around them, otherwise the only evidence that he was furious. "Do you still have the weapon?"
"It's being held at the market guard post, along with the body. A member of the guard saved us." Nika audibly swallowed. "Unfortunately that means the killer is dead."
"Fuck," Yddris growled. "And it's going to be my job to tell him he doesn't have anyone to question. Night take me." He inclined his head behind him at the lord, who had stopped muttering but seemed to be working himself up into an even greater fury in silence. Jordan didn't envy Yddris the task one bit. "Boy."
Jordan snapped to attention. His tutor was staring at him hard, eyes like chips of emerald stone.
"Go down to the kitchens, fetch Nika something to eat. Get something for yourself, too, if you want it. Then come straight up to the study, got it? You remember where it is?"
"I think so."
"Good lad. Go on, before he starts yelling."
Jordan hurried out without looking back. He only vaguely remembered the route to the kitchens, but Brillan was waiting outside and seemed to have overheard.
"This way, sir," he said, without any further comment, and led Jordan through the grand foyer and down the narrow servants' passage to the kitchens. It was a cavernous room, just as big as he remembered it, and amazingly warm. He shuddered as he stepped through the doorway. He'd forgotten what it was like to be properly warm, without the help of magic. Yddris never lit a natural fire in the house. Jordan had forgotten how nice it was.
A figure in a bed near the hearth sat up as they entered, and then slumped back down again. Jordan glanced at him, then looked again; what he had taken to be rumpled sheets was a vast pair of wings. They were bedraggled and flattened, presumably from being in bed, but impressive all the same. The owner caught him staring and smirked.
"Never seen an Angel before?" he said, dark eyes glinting. Jordan already didn't like him and he'd barely spoken five words.
"Sure I have," he said. Just not one with wings.
He felt guilty for thinking it, and hurried after Brillan as the butler headed for the cooking fires. Several large pots simmered and bubbled on a metal rail. The fireplace next to it had an animal spitted over the flames, and the smell made Jordan's mouth water. With surgical precision, Brillan carved off two slices and laid them on plates. Jordan hovered in the background, trying to keep out of the way. A thick wedge of cheese and a hunk of bread was added to each.
"Enjoy," Brillan said as he handed them over. Jordan hesitated, unable to tell whether the man was being sarcastic, and nodded an awkward thank you before turning around and coming face to face with Anarabelle Novae.
"Hi," he blurted, readjusting a plate as it almost tipped out of his grip. "You made me jump."
"Does she think I'm avoiding her?" Nova demanded. Her black eyes were far too intense. Jordan's scalp prickled with discomfort. He couldn't understand how Grace was so comfortable around this woman.
"Don't think so. She said she thought someone had tipped Harkenn off about you."
"You're welcome," the Angel in the bed called across the room. A vein pulsed in Nova's jaw, but she didn't turn around. Jordan guessed this was the pompous dick of an Angel his sister had mentioned.
"Good," Nova muttered. She fidgeted and sucked in her lower lip, and in that moment looked much younger than she ever had before.
"I'll tell her you asked after her," Jordan said. "If you like. I think she'd like that."
She met his eye again, calculating. "Okay."
Jordan nodded. He shuffled his feet, and breathed out in a sharp gasp as Brillan spoke behind him. He'd forgotten the old man was there. His heart clenched, but then he realised Nova didn't look bothered that he had overheard. "Perhaps we should be going, sir?"
"Y-yeah." For a minute he forgot where he was supposed to be, but then remembered that Yddris was expecting him. "Yeah."
He felt Nova's eyes on his back as he left and tried not to shudder. When they reached the study, there was already an argument raging, the lord shouting loudest of all. Jordan would have quite liked to stay outside in the hall until it had all died down, but Brillan had already knocked. The shouting ceased.
"Come in."
Jordan shuffled inside with the two plates. Nika sat in front of the lord's desk with his hands clasped tightly in his lap, and Jordan made a beeline for him, trying not to look at anyone else. The atmosphere was oppressive, hot and angry, and everyone was watching him.
"Thank you," Nika murmured. He started picking the bread to crumbs, and Jordan gratefully escaped to a shadowy corner behind Yddris with his own. His tutor leaned down.
"Did you see your sister today?"
"Yeah." Jordan swallowed his bread and cheese, eyes trained on an interesting bit of wall. "Thank you, by the way. For..."
"Don't mention it," Yddris growled. "Seriously, I meant that part."
Jordan didn't think he was as angry as he made himself out to be, and relaxed with a shrug. "Just so you know."
The argument was quickly regaining momentum behind them, covering their conversation. "I believe Callan's cancelled your trips to the temple. You can finish your term when we've got to the bottom of this or when the light season comes. Whichever first."
Jordan's relief was tempered by an image of Arlen's face flashing into his head. "Won't that cause problems?"
"Oh, trust me, boy," Yddris muttered, leaning in even closer. There was a man watching them across the room, dressed in inappropriately opulent clothing, with a tiny smile on his face. Jordan didn't like the look of him. "If he wants you, he'll find a way of letting you know."
"Oh. Great." Jordan's food stuck in his throat and his eyes watered. He put down his knife so it didn't fall out of his shaking hands. "I'll look forward to it."