Twenty Six: Departure

"You've got enough socks and underwear?"

"Yes."

"Plus extras? And a jacket?"

"Yes."

"And plenty of blankets?"

"Grace." Jordan put his hands on his sister's shoulders and she stopped gabbling, staring up at him wide-eyed and slightly fearful. He could already feel his resolve slipping, but he knew he had to go. He just hated leaving her here. The mad thought occurred to him to sneak her out, but he knew she wouldn't go along with it, or even if she did, he wouldn't get away with it. "Yes. I've got everything. If you don't believe me, Nika checked all my stuff twice this morning."

She relaxed, and Jordan rolled his eyes.

"I can function like a human sometimes, you know," he said, pulling her into a hug. He hadn't brought up their conversation from a couple of nights before and neither had she. After the previous evening, he had found the words didn't sting as much as they had before when he considered that she at least had no idea about the Devils. The tattoo between his shoulder blades burned at the memory. He had had to try every evasion tactic in his arsenal that morning to make sure Nika didn't see it, as the Unspoken had insisted he try all his new clothes on before he left to make sure there were no last-minute trips to the tailor needed. It was far easier said than done with a bandage strapped around it.

"Barely," she mumbled into his chest. "I don't want you to go, Joe."

"I'll send you a letter with the first trip that comes back here," he said. "Yddris said there are caravans going back and forth all the time. I'll send one with every caravan going until I get back, alright?"

She sniffed and gave a watery smile. She stuck out her little finger. "Promise."

He hooked his little finger around hers. "I promise. As long as you send some back."

"Deal."

Movement over her shoulder drew his eye, just as Nova appeared on the stairs in her usual quiet, wraith-like way. He found her gaze as disconcerting as ever, but nonetheless made his way over. A quirk of the eyebrow was the angel's only sign that she was surprised.

"You'll keep her out of trouble, right?" he asked. He held out a hand and, hesitantly, she grasped his elbow in return, looking all the while like she expected it to be a trap.

"You don't ask for small favours, do you?" Nova replied. Beside Jordan, Grace spluttered her indignation.

"I don't need you to keep me out of trouble. It's usually the other way round!"

"I respectfully disagree," Nova retorted, even as her gaze met Jordan's again. His chest eased. She knew what he meant, even if it had gone straight over his sister's head.

A cold wind blew through the open front doors of the castle. Beyond them lay the wagon of the merchant they were escorting across the Barrens, loaded with goods and their bags and driven by an old nag and a young mare that didn't seem to get along. The merchant had offered to put them in touch with someone to hire horses from, but Yddris had categorically refused; both to contact the stables and to elaborate on why. Jordan could only conclude that it meant he had a very long walk ahead of him.

The merchant himself was short, stocky, and generally good-humoured. His son was travelling with him, a wiry kid of maybe thirteen who was threatening to spend the entire trip hiding inside the wagon. Jordan couldn't shake the feeling that Yddris had something to do with it, since he had spotted Nika giving him a thorough shaking-down after the two had met.

"I'll be back in a second," he said, since Grace and Nova had engaged in one of their hushed private conversations.

He made his way over to Nika, who stood a respectful distance away as Yddris discussed something with Lord Harkenn. He hadn't noticed the lord come downstairs and considered going back to warn Grace, but then he realised that Nova must have already known Harkenn was here. Indeed it didn't look like the lord would be paying much attention anyway; he had a scowl like thunder and was arguing very intensely about something.

"It's nice to see such faith in my abilities," Nika murmured, following Jordan's gaze. "Harkenn doesn't believe I'm well-versed enough in combat to be a reasonable stand-in."

"Seems harsh." Jordan had never seen Nika fight anything human before, but he moved like lightning when dealing with demons.

"I suppose he has a point," the Unspoken said. "I can fight to defend myself or someone else, but Kiel help us if I'm the only one available to advise on tactics in a pitched battle."

"How likely are you to need that?" Jordan asked, only half-joking. After the news coming into the city from all over, he wouldn't be surprised if Nika said it was guaranteed.

"Unlikely," Nika said, a smile in his voice. "And I'm sure I'd be helpful if the plague reached us. But I don't think he's feeling open-minded today."

They both glanced again at Harkenn's tight jaw and bright glare, and Jordan silently agreed.

"Isn't there anyone else who can stand in?" he asked after a minute, unable to keep a plaintive note out of his voice. He was cautious around Nika, had to dance around the Unspoken the whole time, but he simultaneously felt much more at ease around him than with Yddris. Yddris held himself at a distance; it had taken a little while for Jordan to figure out what his issue was, but it had come to him while they were loading up and he was faced with weeks of much more time together than he was used to.

"You need the time," Nika replied, as if reading his thoughts. "He's too busy here. I think some days he forgets he needs to teach as well." Jordan chewed on his lip, not entirely convinced, and Nika chuckled. "Give it a chance, Thorne. It's very early days yet, and I'm afraid I can't help interfering when I'm present. I'm sure it's partly my fault he's let things slide. He's a good teacher; he just hasn't had a chance to show you properly yet."

"Are you going to be alone the whole time?"

"Thorne, I spend most of the year travelling alone and I would normally have left by now if I wasn't helping to teach you. Trust me when I say that that is the least of my concerns."

Jordan was running out of angles to take. He knew Nika was right, but it didn't mean he had to like it. The only thing he knew about his tutor was the one big secret that tied them together – a history with the Devils – but beyond that, it was limited to smoking and a fondness for booze. He wasn't certain Yddris knew much more about him in return.

"I think you might be going," Nika said suddenly. Jordan looked around. Koen, Hap and Astra were gathered around the cart with the merchant and his son, and Yddris was waiting for him several feet away, already stuffing a pipe.

He looked back at Nika, panic rising. He had no idea what to expect from the journey or the destination and for a wild minute he wanted to do everything in his power to keep hold of the little familiarity he had.

"You'll love it." Nika hugged him tightly and then let go, and Jordan winced away the burning of his tattoo. "Take care, Thorne."

Jordan stepped back, nodding and biting down on his nerves, but had barely moved when Grace collided with him side-on.

"I'll be waiting for those letters, Haverford," she mumbled into his chest. "I miss you already."

"I miss you too." He hugged her fiercely back, fighting tears. It felt like he was abandoning her – again. "I'm so sorry, Grace. I'll bring you something back."

"I'm expecting something good." She stepped back, stray tears escaping down her cheeks like flashes of light. "Come back the minute they let you."

"For what the offer is worth," Nika said behind them, slipping his hands inside each sleeve. "You are more than welcome to visit still. Thorne tells me you studied history where you come from?"

Grace nodded, looking slightly taken aback.

"I would be happy to show you some. I have plenty of books on it, if you're interested. I'm something of an enthusiast myself."

"Take him up on it," Jordan stage-whispered to her. "He's a genius."

"I think that's something of an exaggeration, Thorne."

"He's also modest," Jordan told Grace. He hoped she did take Nika up on it. He already felt better to think that she had the Unspoken looking out for her as well, and for her to finally do something she enjoyed. Her arms and hands were lean and calloused where they poked out from the sleeves of her dress. He had been too preoccupied with his misery to really focus on what daily castle life was like – the answer was written all over her. He placed his cheek against her head, hugged her tightly once more, and ripped himself away before he found he couldn't leave. "I'll come see you as soon as I get back."

She smiled, chest catching and causing a tight ache in his. "The very minute."

Nova had left the staircase and was speaking to Yddris in low tones. She stopped as he approached, but he saw a letter change hands, vanishing into the Unspoken's pocket. She nodded at him as she passed and drifted back to her spot on the stairs.

Jordan glanced at Yddris, expecting him to say something, but then he realised why the Unspoken was still silent as he became aware of a looming presence at his shoulder. He turned, and it took all his effort not to flinch as he came face to face with Lord Harkenn's glare. He sketched an awkward bow using only his head; if he had gone any further over he would have brushed against the lord's silk waistcoat.

"I'm expecting improvements from this, boy," Harkenn said. His cool breath smelled like wine. "Significant ones. Your tutor has made the case for your health to improve your progress. Take your break in whatever way necessary, and don't disappoint me."

"Yes, my lord." Jordan nodded. It was a miracle how much braver he felt in the face of Lord Harkenn's warnings after he'd experienced Marick's. Anything short of being pinned to a table and tattooed against his will was a win.

"Well, then." Harkenn stepped back. "I expect you should go."

Yddris took him by the shoulder and led him through the front doors, grip firm enough that he couldn't look around at all the eyes he could feel on his back. When he reached the wagon he was glad; if Yddris had let go, he knew he would have turned right back around.

"You ready?" Koen said cheerfully, hooking him around the shoulders and pulling him in. "It's going to be great. You'll see."

Jordan made a noncommittal noise. He readjusted his cloak and hood to give his hands something to do, and checked his belt for Yddris's dagger and Arlen's hunting knife. They sat side by side at his right hip, a reminder that this didn't mean he was free – not that he needed it, with the horned mask grinning between his shoulders. He wondered if any of the Devils would be watching him leave, and concluded that they probably would, though he'd never see them.

With no excuses left, he finally turned to the castle doors. Grace stood in the entranceway, arms crossed against the cold. She smiled and waved, and he waved back.

And then they were leaving.

There was no fanfare or ceremony; the wagon simply started to move, and Jordan moved with it, fighting guilt the whole time. It was almost anticlimactic, though he blamed that on how desperate he'd been to get away. For the other Unspoken this was routine, he supposed. He was almost definitely the only one shitting a brick.

A cloud of smoke drifted around his head as they left the castle grounds, betraying Yddris's presence at his shoulder. The blackweed, to his chagrin, no longer made him feel funny at the knees. He had found a little package on his windowsill when he woke up, filled with a small amount of dried leaf and a few papers. He was certain one of the Devils had left it there; the note that had come with it had had no signature, but he half-remembered hearing rattling on the outside wall of the house in the middle of the night. He had assumed he was dreaming until he found the package and the note; for the road.

"Back home," Jordan began, knowing Yddris would hear him, "A long time ago, people used to get around on steam trains – like huge carriages powered by coal. Grace and I went on one, years ago, since they're still a bit of a novelty. And it blew so much steam and coal smoke that sometimes you couldn't see your hand in front of your face on the platform. Walking with you is like that."

Yddris gave a dry chuckle. "Always glad to service a trip down memory lane."

"Did it use horses as well?" Koen had already parked himself on the back of the wagon, riding in front of them with his feet scuffing the road.

"No."

"Then how did it move?"

"The coal powered an engine. I don't know about the specifics."

"I don't understand."

"I'm not an expert, so I can't explain it in a way that'll make sense. It was just...accepted, you know? Like you accept a carriage and horses. In my country that's considered unusual nowadays."

Koen was silent for a second, and then burst out, "But it doesn't make sense."

Jordan laughed. "Wait till you hear about cars."

They left the merchants' quarter quite early on, taking the large trade roads bordering the quarters. They shared it with very few others, only pedestrians or the occasional wagon going the other way. They had hit the river, but instead of crossing it they instead followed the bank. It was a more lively stretch of the Aven, burbling gently against shored-up pathways. Jordan thought he saw a few silver flickers under the water, heading deeper into the city. Some buildings he passed looked strangely familiar, but his thoughts were giddy with nerves and relief. It wasn't until they reached a tumbledown bridge he'd used many times that he registered where they were – they'd just come at it from a different direction.

Across the water lay the dark mass of buildings Jordan had come to resent so much over the past months. There was the hole in the bridge he had put his foot through by accident on his first time crossing alone; there was the building two men had hidden in to mug him. If one walked down that long, dark first street and then kept right, they'd reach the Nict temple and, a block over from that, a pile of crates leading up to the second-storey window of Arlen's home.

He shuddered and turned his gaze away. The cart wasn't going that way anyway; they were circling the base of the large hill that housed Harkenn's castle. As they left the bridge behind, the dead quarter fell away across a widening body of water. They reached the weir just as the buildings gave way to rubble.

"That's looking high," Koen said. He had given his spot in the wagon to Astra and now walked beside Jordan, saving him the prospect of an extended conversation with his tutor. The Unspoken pointed at the water where it lapped at the bank. Here it was fortified by large stone blocks. "The reservoirs must be full."

"What's the one on this side called?" Jordan asked.

"This is Felix. The other one's..."

"Ferrin."

Koen made a noise of surprise. "How did you know that?"

A black stretch of water was just becoming visible. It was separated from the weir by a vast loch which spat small geysers of water into the churning current through gaps and chips. Jordan kept his gaze on that as he replied, "Heard it somewhere. Maybe Nika. Do all the Harkenns have names beginning with F?"

"As far back as the books go...yes." Koen stifled a snort. "Sometimes I wonder if they do it for a laugh."

"They don't," Yddris grunted from nearby. "Harkenns wouldn't be caught dead laughing at their own expense. How are you with heights, boy?"

"Okay," Jordan replied cautiously. He wasn't bad with them – and his training with the Devils had certainly eroded a lot of the nervousness he still had – but he didn't like Yddris's careful tone, or the fact that the path was rapidly narrowing. The little light they'd had was fading – to get this far had taken a few hours already. He couldn't shake the feeling that the next stretch would be unpleasant and potentially very wet.

"I'd like to be beyond the gate by nightfall," Yddris said to the merchant, who had stopped the wagon and was now strapping things down. Jordan's stomach clenched further.

"Me too." The merchant looked up at the sky, wincing as a Marrowhawk swooped overhead. "And I don't want to be setting up camp in total darkness."

They started moving again, Jordan waiting for someone to tell him what was about to happen.

But he didn't need to wait long to see what it was. The path petered out and gave way to a large wooden platform. A vast body of water stretched out to the right of them, still glimmering and shifting at the base of the nearest mountain. To the left, there was another huge reservoir on a lower level, a glimpse of which Jordan had caught on his last job, though this time his view was cut off by Harkenn's castle hill. In between these two bodies of water was a drop.

A dark, echoing, deadly drop, the vast wall on one side topped by a reinforced dam and giving way to sloping, craggy rocks that could easily spread someone's brains a long way around their landing spot. On the other side, one could choose to spread their brains across the lower dam if the fancy took them and they wanted a nice breeze before impact.

"Oh, you're kidding me," he murmured. There was a bridge across the crevasse. It was made of wood and steel bars, and it was narrow and wet with spray from an underground tributary, a column of water that had formed a waterfall into the abyss. Jordan couldn't see where the water landed. The way it plumed into spray a long way down suggested he didn't want to know how far away the bottom was.

Ren chittered in his ear; she was nervous too. He reached into his hood to pet her, feeling sick with dread.

"On the bright side," Koen said, "if you need to be sick, you don't have to see it again." He indicated the drop.

"He won't be sick," Hap chided. "He's going to be absolutely fine."

"You sound more convinced than I do," Jordan replied hoarsely, and winced as the wheels of the wagon rolled into the bridge with a hollow rattling sound. He could've sworn he sensed the bridge take the strain.

"Don't tell me you don't have things like this on earth," Koen said.

"We did," Jordan said, then added emphatically, "but I wasn't on them. How many tributaries are there?"

"Half a dozen, at least of those that cut through the city," Hap said. "Some run all the way from the north, some start in the mountains. That one normally runs dry in the light season." He gestured at the waterfall, and Jordan swallowed, wishing it was still running dry.

Astra stepped onto the bridge with one long glance in their direction, and Jordan felt his face heat at the judgement she was probably directing at him. With a long, shuddering breath, Jordan stepped up beside Yddris and willed his knees not to give out as he followed.

Empty air yawned on either side, almost a physical presence. It whistled in the crags and in his ears, accompanied by the low groan of masses of water pressing against their barricades. What would happen, he wondered, if the high dam burst while they were on the bridge? Was it high up enough, or would they be swept away on the surge?

"If that shaking is because you're imagining your death on this bridge, boy, I will hit you."

"I can't help it."

Yddris's heel stamped hard on his toe, and Jordan was so surprised that all images of painful death vanished from his mind like he'd switched off a TV.

"What the fuck?" he gasped. Yddris just drew on his pipe and kept walking.

"It worked, though, right?" Koen said wryly, nudging him in the ribs. Jordan scowled and limped on, keeping a few feet between him and his tutor. The bridge echoed with each step. He was almost grateful for the throbbing in his toes as a distraction from the yawning gap beneath his feet, with all that stood between him and the drop a couple of feet of wet wood and steel. Water vapour beaded on his cloak and drifted through the air, making some parts of the crossing impossible to see. Ahead he heard the wagon groan as it slowed to a crawl. The horse whickered in the white fog. Jordan fumbled for the bridge railing and held on until his fingers ached.

He knew when they passed over the underground river, even though the visibility was still poor. The bridge rumbled beneath his feet and the air rippled with the falling weight of water. He slipped as damp wood became slick with puddles, and felt an echoing lurch in his stomach as, for just a second, he felt his toes poke into the abyss.

The platform at the other side took him by surprise. Tension drained out of him like a wrung sponge and he staggered onto the rocky path and leaned against a boulder.

"How's your foot?" Yddris asked, slouching past with the wagon.

"Fuck off."

His tutor just laughed.