Fourteen: Bisa

Patrolling with Nika was a very different experience to patrolling with Yddris; for one, Nika liked to talk, and didn't fill the air with smoke that made Jordan's knees weak as they walked.

"You'll like the light season," he was saying. They patrolled the leisure quarter, Bisa, which lay adjacent to the merchants' quarter. The Night Fire had been set in its main plaza when the Hallow Festival had taken place, but aside from that Jordan had seen very little of it. It was a different place in the quiet times, the large stretches of cobbles glittering in the cold and the windows dark in many of the buildings. "It's very beautiful here when it's light and the demons aren't nearly as much of a menace."

Jordan hadn't seen anything in Nictaven he would have called particularly beautiful, perhaps with the exception of a temple – or a girl - but he kept his mouth shut.

"Yddris will take you to the Guildtown, of course, but you'll be back to see some of the Light Fayre."

Jordan glanced at him sidelong. "Are you not coming?"

"Yddris needs me to stand in for him up at the castle," Nika said, sounding faintly regretful. Then his voice brightened again. "But I've been back far more often than he has, so it's only fair. And he'll certainly find it harder not to spend more time training with you if he's got nowhere to vanish off to."

"There is that." Jordan sighed. Yddris's timetable was far from the biggest obstacle to his training, but he could hardly say so.

"You'll like it there," Nika said, after a pause. "I know I keep saying it, but it really does start to feel like home after you've been in service for a while."

Jordan could tell Nika was trying to make him feel better, but a sour mood had settled on him since the previous night that he hadn't been able to shake. As they left the plaza and walked down a narrow side-street lined with curtained windows and signs that Nika refused to translate for him, he tried to think of how he might break the news to Grace without her binding him hand and foot and hiding him in a cupboard.

"Well met, gentlemen," a voice called from a nearby doorway. Before Jordan could look properly, Nika had a firm hand on his shoulder and was leading him away. Ren growled, picking up on Jordan's surprise. Men and women lounged in front of the few buildings that were open, calling them over for business and making bawdy comments. Finally cottoning on to what Harkenn meant when he had banned 'disreputable' businesses from the plaza, Jordan kept his head down and walked without stopping, face blazing.

"Sorry, Thorne," Nika said, as they turned off into a much quieter road. "It's a bit of a shortcut but I forgot how...intense it can be."

"S'alright," Jordan muttered, trying to scrub the image of the naked man whose eye he'd met by accident from his mind. "Bit early for that kind of business, isn't it?"

"Is it?" Nika asked mildly. "There's little difference at this time of year."

Jordan supposed he had a point.

They passed gambling dens and more pleasure houses, walked through drifting clouds of blackweed and knots of people gathered on the few rune-marked roads. It was empty of demons, aside from the occasional darting glimpse of a thrall disappearing down an alley or into a broken cellar window.

"It's quiet," Jordan said. Nika seemed just as comfortable with silence as conversation, but his was a hard silence to read and made Jordan slightly nervous. Yddris's silences were surly and brooding; Nika's were simply blank, and it was impossible to guess what he thought or how he felt. "Got Listeners and a Death last night."

"The merchants' quarter has more waste piles to dig through, more residents," Nika said, as if coming back from a long way away. "And despite it always being dark, they still favour the night hours."

"Do you get paid for patrols? Or just for dead demons? Will you get any money for this, even if you don't catch any?"

"That's a good question." Nika paused, then said, "Not in hours, no. However, the Guild would cover my expenses if I fell on hard times. There is no cost to staying at the Guildtown, either, and among guild members it is very common to share resources where needed. Harkenn has also been known to pay out in quiet times, in order to keep the patrols going. So in a way, it's part of the deal that I do slots on the rota. I wouldn't have access to those things if I didn't." He shrugged. "I'm not concerned. Even if the hunting dries up, medicine is always needed."

"How did you know you wanted to do medicine?"

"It brings me satisfaction. I've seen enough suffering to find alleviating it for my patients extremely therapeutic."

Jordan sensed there was more to it than that, but didn't press. Yddris had told Jordan once that Nika had been a slave before he manifested; asking questions that might stray towards that territory was likely to ruin the rest of the patrol.

"You'll get the opportunity to try a lot of different things before you take the black cloak," Nika said, drawing Jordan back out of his thoughts. "Perhaps you'll surprise yourself."

"I doubt it."

Nika turned his head. "You're awfully hard on yourself sometimes. You never know, you might find something you can do with your drawings."

Jordan's heart skipped, and then sank. Since Arlen had first called him to the dead quarter, he'd barely had the time or energy to draw. The few attempts he had managed, in between lessons or when both Yddris and Nika happened to be out, had been more dispiriting than anything else. He was always sore and aching, or on the verge of falling asleep where he sat. More than once Yddris had found him asleep with his head on the table, page blank before him.

"Maybe," he replied, unconvinced. Everything seemed to depend far too much on how things played out with the Devils, and he didn't like how many of those possibilities ended badly.

They did eventually find a demon – a Marrowhawk with a torn wing, on the brink of death already. Nika dispatched it with impressive grace considering the nature of the task, and said conspiratorially, "Well, no one ever asks how easy it was when they pay you."

They returned the body to the quarter's guard post and headed back to Yddris's. Jordan felt much calmer than he had when he had gone out, feeling a little less pessimistic after witnessing a patrol that wasn't end-to-end rune-casting and killing. He was hoping to swing a few more patrols with Nika for the sake of his shot nerves, if they were going to be more like this.

"If you don't tell Yddris," Nika said, as they entered the merchants' quarter once more, "I'll stand you one of Vek's before we get back."

Despite himself, Jordan brightened. Nika chuckled, sensing it, and pointed him down a side-street lined with shops. Jordan had been through several times before to get supplies for his lessons; two streets over was the bookshop in which he had been gifted Ren. He reached into his hood and felt her nudge his hand with a quiet chirrup.

The huge Varthian deli-owner, who seemed a lot less intimidating than when Jordan had first met him after several weeks of getting thrown around by Usk, was not alone when they entered the shop. Another Varthian man was with him, seated behind the counter on a low stool that seemed to emphasise his size rather than diminish it. The two broke off speaking in a language Jordan didn't know when they entered, Vek's vaguely harassed look replaced with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Nika or Yddris?" the man rumbled, eyes flicking to Jordan. "Well met again, small man."

"Well met," Jordan said. Unlike Usk, Vek didn't have a wild, predatory look about him; his sharpened teeth had worn down with time, and his gaze wasn't constantly assessing. Jordan had never been certain whether that was a cultural thing or because Usk was a Devil.

His eyes slipped to the other man, who paid them no mind. His tattoos were dark and fresh, and he had a wild mane of pale hair. His eyes were a warm amber colour under a heavy brow. The necklace at his throat looked suspiciously like it was made of bones.

"Ill news?" Nika asked, and Jordan blinked, realising he had been staring. Then he noticed the unease in the air that Nika must have picked up on. Beneath the smells of fresh bread and cooking meat, the room was tense.

Vek glanced at his companion, who only shrugged and said something in the strange guttural language they had been speaking when Jordan entered.

"Plague," Vek said. "In the southern districts. Raklan tells me the situation is not good."

Nika was silent for a moment, and then said in a strangled voice, "As if we needed anything else."

"He tells me that Unspoken are not known to be afflicted," Vek replied. "As far as his tribe has heard, in any case. The sickness began with a demon."

Raklan muttered something.

"He says the Unspoken of the town where it started has been treating the sick after the physician died. He is not sick himself, at least not as far as they are aware."

"I see. Has...Raklan notified Lord Harkenn?"

"He says his sister has alerted the Lady Kerrin, and that they are at this moment speaking with the lord." Vek fidgeted. "I would appreciate it much if you might keep his presence, ah...quiet."

Nika's tone was carefully neutral when he said, "Of course."

Jordan looked between the three men, certain once again that he was missing something. Raklan had begun cleaning under his nails with a knife, unconcerned by the change in tone, but that necklace really did look like bones...

"Thank you," Vek said, placing two sandwiches on the counter. "I appreciate it. Have these on the house."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Nika said, dropping two coins on the counter. "Thank you, Vek."

They were several streets over before Nika spoke again. Jordan nibbled at his food, curiosity and unease eating at him the longer the silence stretched on. He had heard of plagues in earth's history, and all of those had been catastrophic.

Nika didn't even unwrap his food.

"Plague," he burst out, suddenly. Inside Jordan's hood, Ren flinched and dug her claws in. "Plague! As if things weren't bad enough! Harkenn's going to have a brain bleed when he hears."

Jordan reached into his hood and plucked Ren's claws out of his skin, wincing. His gut churned, and he already regretted the small bit of the sandwich he'd eaten.

"If he's moved as fast as I hope he has, there's a chance of containment," Nika muttered. Jordan wondered if the man might have forgotten he wasn't alone. "Though if demons can carry it...night take me, that's bad news..."

He began to pace up and down the road, still thinking aloud. Jordan hovered under the eaves of a darkened building, waiting, trying not to let nervousness swallow him. He looked around, hoping no one could hear what was being said, and was on the verge of suggesting they head back to Yddris's when he spotted movement on the street corner. His heart sank when he recognised Jesper's face, watching him with narrowed eyes, features just about distinguishable with Jordan's assisted sight.

"Nika," Jordan said, hating himself. The man stopped pacing abruptly.

"I...I'm sorry, Thorne. I got carried away there."

"It's okay," Jordan said hastily. "Listen, I er...gotta go relieve myself really badly and I saw a quiet gutter back there. Could I...?"

"Yes, yes, of course. I'll wait here."

Jordan walked away, trying not to look too urgent. After finding out that plague might be headed for the city, he was even less in the mood for Arlen's antics than usual – if he could put Jesper off quickly, Nika might prove too distracted to cotton on. Jordan already felt like he was on thin ice with the other Unspoken, and Jesper turning up on a patrol route was the last thing he needed.

He turned a corner, and made sure to find an appropriately secluded alleyway before he stopped and turned to face the darkness. "You shouldn't pitch up when I'm on patrol."

"Only time you're not shut up in that house," Jesper's voice replied, and then the assassin dropped down into the alley next to him. A match flared, and then the small space slowly filled with the smell of blackweed. Jordan wrinkled his nose and backed up two steps. "Arlen needs you tonight."

"Tonight?" Jordan repeated. Arlen never left it so late to summon him. "Why?"

"Something came up," Jesper replied, as if that wouldn't fill anyone with foreboding if they knew who'd said it. "Urgent business."

Jordan scowled. "Do I have a choice?"

Jesper rocked back on his heels and rammed his hands in his pockets. "None whatsoever."

Jordan sighed, feeling the last of the calm he'd managed to claw back for himself over the morning slipping away from him. He hadn't realised quite how much he'd been hoping it would last, as vain a hope as that was.

"Naw, don't be so put out," Jesper said, nudging his shoulder. "I think you'll find it interesting."

Interesting when referring to anything about Arlen was a very relative term with many interpretations. Jordan grunted, unencouraged, stroking Ren on his shoulder to try and calm his mounting despair. The back and forth felt like it would never end, but one thing he had thought he could rely on was that Arlen wouldn't force him to sneak around without time to plan for it, and here he was. Not even that was a constant. He could only hope Yddris would be back by the time he needed to make an exit, or extracting himself without anyone questioning it was going to prove extremely difficult.

"You can't tell me anything at all about what this urgent business is, then?" he said, pulling away from the direction of his thoughts.

Jesper smirked. "I'm not supposed to, no."

Jordan waited. A minute later, the assassin complied.

"He's going to take you to tonight's guild meeting," Jesper said. "Anything else he wants to say, you'll have to ask about yourself."

Jordan's stomach rolled. The last thing he wanted was to meet the Hooded Devils – for a start, Marick would be there, and Jordan had been quite content to avoid the Devil leader entirely up until this point. Not only that, but it would feel even more real, even more restrictive. He'd never been more tempted to run away in his life.

"Better dash," Jesper said, "Your strange friend is coming."

When Jordan looked up, he was alone in the alley. Nika appeared in the entrance a moment later. "There you are. You were taking so long, is something the matter?"

Jordan's heart stopped beating for a split second as the Unspoken man's head turned up to the roof Jesper must have escaped over, but then Nika gently took him by the shoulder and urged him out. If he suspected anything, he didn't say it, and his voice was still calm and concerned when he spoke again. "I'm sorry. I expect that news was as hard to hear for you as it was for me. I wasn't thinking when I lashed out, and for that I apologise."

Jordan blinked, his mind still on the looming Devil meeting, and took a moment to realise that a deadly sickness was also bearing down on the city like a hunting beast. His knees wobbled, and Nika caught him under the elbow.

"I don't feel well," he muttered. There was a sick dread eating away at his gut, a dark shadow of hopelessness crowding in on his thoughts. He wished he hadn't pressed Jesper on the purpose of Arlen's summons, or he might have just been feeling annoyed rather than weak and terrified.

"Sleep," Nika announced curtly. "I've kept you out too long as it is. When we get back, you're going straight to bed for the afternoon."

On any other day, Jordan would have been ecstatic to hear this plan, but he knew he wouldn't sleep this time. All that waited was a nauseating countdown before he had to find a way of sneaking out of the house.

He didn't say anything, however, only allowed himself to be led home in a daze and ushered into bed. Despite seeing Devils every time he closed his eyes, his fatigue was bone-deep and the rest was still welcome. Ren wriggled out of his hood and settled next to him, purring and pawing his face as if she sensed his distress. He stroked her head and scratched behind her ears, smiling as she nipped at his fingers.

"Wish that awkward sod would let you come," he muttered. He was half-tempted to take Ren with him anyway, as recompense for the short notice, but things were likely to be hard enough without making Arlen angry with him.

At least Harkenn would stop leaning on him so hard for a little while. It was only a matter of days ago that the lord had been bemoaning the fact that he hadn't been dragged along to any guild meetings yet. Somehow, though, the arrival of the moment Harkenn had been anticipating was a very cold comfort when faced with actually doing it.

He might have drifted once or twice, but for most of the rest of the day he lay in a restless daze, too tired to bother getting up, but too nervous to sleep. He sensed Koen come in and then go away again. Yddris remained stubbornly absent. Jordan wondered if news of the plague had made it to Harkenn by now, and that was the reason for the delay.

He closed his eyes again, burying his face in Ren's fur. Plague, of all things. He didn't want to see how Nictaven dealt with a plague.

Homesickness was like a gut-punch. He made a mental note to visit Grace as soon as his training allowed it, just for some strain of familiarity. He hadn't heard from his sister in days, only glimpsed Nova in the study when meeting with Harkenn. He didn't like how the Angel looked at him. She'd been paying him much more attention since she'd become more involved with Grace, and he couldn't tell if she was just curious or whether it was for Grace's benefit. For his own sake he prayed for the former. Nova knew about his double schedule, and if she and Grace got serious enough, she might let it slip. God knew what would happen to his relationship with his sister then.

Evening fell much too quickly, even though the hours had dragged. Jordan had become used to the rhythm of the house by now; at the turn of the day every evening, even if there was no change in the light outside, Nika started to prepare dinner. When he heard vegetables clanging into the cooking pot, and Yddris had still not returned, he sighed and slid out of bed with a stomach heavy as lead.

Time to start lying again.