Sixty Six: Conversations

"Where'd you get that hole in your sleeve?"

Jordan stopped fiddling with it, chagrined. He had no skill at all with a needle and thread, so while he'd managed to wash the worst of the blood out of the cloak Silas had damaged in his attack, the hole was still there. "Picked it up."

"I'm not stupid, boy," Yddris growled around his pipe. They turned onto another street and fell quiet as they passed a group of labourers heading in the other direction. "I know knife damage when I see it. Where did you get it?"

Jordan glanced longingly at the trail of blackweed smoke drifting from the pipe. He hadn't yet had the heart to admit even to Yddris that he was already back on the stuff. "Do you remember that shifty acolyte who my sister almost got hanged to save, and who's been watching me sleep for months because he thinks the sun shines from Arlen's backside?"

"Ah, right. I know the one." A pause. "He actually attacked you?"

"Of course he did." Jordan sighed. "It was inevitable he'd try. And that he'll try again."

"At home?"

"In the yard, yeah."

Another, more troubled silence followed that. Yddris's moods had been easier for him to read since they'd spent so much time in close proximity at the Guildtown. The fact that Jordan could now tell his tutor was uneasy at this news didn't make him feel better about it.

"Would you object to Nika knowing about this?" Yddris finally asked. "He knows enough else, apparently. He could keep an eye out when I'm not there."

Jordan instinctively cringed from the idea. He hated that Nika knew as much as he did. He hated even more that Grace knew. To her credit, he hadn't noticed much difference in her manner with him since the day she'd found out, but he knew Grace far too well to take that at face value. She was either concealing her true feelings about it, had not considered the true implications of it, or chosen not to believe certain aspects were true. All three spoke of trouble further down the line.

"He, er...mentioned that to you, then."

"Hm. Can you simply mention something in the midst of a blazing row?"

Jordan winced. "Sorry."

"Night take me, boy, it isn't your fault," Yddris grunted. "Worst part of it all is that he has a fucking point. Harkenn shouldn't have allowed you out of his sight and I shouldn't have let him. But if I'd thought for one minute that Blackheart would take a liking to you, of all the scumbags out there..." The Unspoken shook his head. "Didn't think that man had it in him to take a liking to anyone or anything but himself and money."

"Liking might be a bit strong." Jordan shrugged. "I think he likes that I have magic, and that I'm enough of a pushover to do what he says without trying to kiss his feet. Foot." He stifled a hysterical chuckle. "I'm going to the Pit."

"No faster than the rest of us, boy." His tutor glanced at him. "Roll one and light it, will you? You're giving me the shakes just looking at you."

"Damn it." But he got out his pouch with a sigh of relief.

The streets were slowly getting busier as the season progressed; a weight had eased from Jordan at the return of a defined night and day. It didn't feel as oppressive to do night patrols anymore, knowing that he'd still be able to see daylight if he wanted to. It wasn't quite broad sunlight - more a grey haze - but the previous evening the moons had risen for the first time in months. After this patrol they were headed to the Demon's Brew to celebrate. Nika was bringing Grace and Nova by a more discrete route, and Jordan looked forward to seeing Kedrick's face when he realised who had arrived in his taproom. He didn't think going for a pint had been Harkenn's idea of keeping Nova out of the way, but the general consensus seemed to be that she had more than earned it.

"Has Nika had any success with Harkenn's problem?" he asked. He had planned to tell Yddris about Arlen's involvement at the earliest opportunity, but it hadn't presented itself before now – and it had taken him a couple of hours of the patrol to pluck up the courage. Yddris would either reluctantly approve or roundly berate him. About time he found out which it would be.

"Not yet," Yddris said. "He hasn't been able to get very close. I think Cael suspects something. All the food and drink he's managed to get his hands on has been clean of any substances that shouldn't be there."

"But there's no improvement?"

"No."

"Have you considered...less orthodox methods?" Jordan pretended to be very interested in a shop window they were passing as he said it, but was so focused on Yddris's response that he couldn't have said what the shop actually sold.

"Thorne..."

Using his name rather than 'boy' wasn't a promising start. "Hear me out. It's only him. No one...higher up. Because that higher-up is probably trying to get rid of him, and only hasn't done anything drastic because of me. He hates the Caelumese, which would ruin a lot of plans."

Yddris looked around them and Jordan also surreptitiously glanced up and probed forward with his magic sense to be certain they were alone. He had been caught out by Silas more than once; he was not about to have it happen again. "You know you can't trust him further than you can spit? Probably less?"

"I don't. He made a deal with me. He isn't doing it for free and I wouldn't believe a word of it if he'd said he was."

"What've you agreed to, boy? He's already claimed years of your life, and you're giving him more? For Harkenn? I might have sold myself to Harkenn, but even I can see he hasn't done you many favours."

Jordan shrugged, partly to shake off his own misgivings. What choice did he really have? "If I figured it out, especially with their help, it would show Harkenn I was loyal enough to trust and he'd stop pushing me around for a while. It would show Arlen that I was loyal enough to him to stop his browbeating as well. And also, if the Caelumese are anything to do with the zombie men, I'll stick with Harkenn, thanks."

"And the higher-up?"

Jordan shrugged again, helplessly this time. "I don't know what he wants. I don't know what he's got to do with this. I don't even know if he's better or worse than Arlen, but I went with the one who at least didn't use Grace's life as a bartering chip this time, and definitely isn't anything to do with zombie murderers. He said he might be able to get her out of the Devils' reach one day."

"Then what did he use as this bartering chip?"

"My loyalty. Unconditionally. And commitment to training."

A pause that could have meant anything. Then, "That's not an even bargain you've made, boy. Not remotely."

"I know. But one of those things I already committed to Harkenn, and I made it. I didn't have it forced on me at knifepoint. And no matter how hard it gets between here and then, the exit point stays the same."

"You're playing a very dangerous game. I can't help you with it, boy."

"I didn't ask you to."

"But you're asking me to watch. To know that it's happening and stand aside."

Jordan stopped walking, forcing Yddris to stop as well. He drew close, until he could see the gleam of his tutor's eyes, and dropped his voice. "What do you suggest, then? Nika can't get close enough. Arlen could help me get answers in ways that the Angels won't expect. If he can't, we're no worse off. What if Harkenn's dying? You want me not to risk this so that we can risk being steam-rollered by Nova's loopy uncle instead? I've had a right fucking terrible time of it trying to keep Grace alive. I'm already neck-deep in shit and this close," he pinched thumb and forefinger together, "to losing it all to the Devils anyway. I have some control over this. I have the narrowest chance of making things less shitty. Let me have it. Please."

Yddris stared at him for a long time. "Well, boy, that makes you braver than I ever was." He began walking again, clearly expecting Jordan to follow. He did so, mostly to keep the peace. His heart hadn't been in this patrol from the start, but it had been his first chance to talk to Yddris alone since they returned.

"So you're not against it?"

"I think Blackheart is one of the most manipulative piles of scum to walk the face of Nictaven," Yddris replied shortly. "Beaten only by one other. If his determination to control you gives us a way to turn that ruthlessness to our advantage, then I see no reason not to take it. But he isn't telling you everything, boy. Always remember that. There will be things he wants from you that he's never mentioned, and he'll use underhand tactics to get them. If it comes to that, then I'll make this clear; the one thing you must never, ever give any of them control over is how you use your magic. Someone will ask one day. It's inevitable. Neither I nor Cara can protect you if you let it happen."

"They can't control it for me, though."

"No. So they'll try every other tactic they have."

A silence fell. He hadn't expected this conversation to make him feel good, but somehow he felt even worse than he had expected. Had he already given Arlen too much? His desperation to get out from under Marick's thumb could easily have made him blind to the dangers of his teacher. Perhaps the fact that Arlen had been incapacitated for months had given him a false impression for all this time. Certainly the discussion he had witnessed in the Nict temple had hinted at something darker lurking beneath the bitter snarkiness. He was not looking forward to the pending visit to someone the two men had only referred to as the poisoner, which Arlen would only set up with Jordan's agreement to accompany him. He wasn't encouraged that his first outing with his teacher on a real job involved poisons.

It's necessary, he told himself. Then he thought of Harkenn's plans for him and found it a cold comfort.

"I'm not helping, am I?" Yddris muttered. "Nika's already had at me for being useless in all this."

"Sometimes I find it really hard to imagine him doing anything you told him to do."

"What makes you think he did?" Yddris replied. "He wanted to learn, but if I wanted him to learn a certain way in a certain order then I had to haggle with him. He's always hated being told what to do. He sounds calm and collected on the day to day, but you start trying to boss him around and you'll soon see someone else entirely."

"He did seem relieved to get away from Harkenn."

Yddris snorted. He drew again on his pipe, and then knocked the contents into a gutter as they passed it. "Keep me well in the loop with all this, boy. Everything Blackheart says or does, I want to know about. If I had a choice I wouldn't risk him with the Lord, but I have a horrible feeling that I don't. Ironically enough, he sounds like our safest bet."

"He seems to hate you. You particularly."

"Not surprised. I'm the only one that saw right through all his little guises when he spied in the castle. I almost got him arrested several times. And we've butted heads over you more than once."

Jordan scowled. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

"That's alright."

Jordan rolled his eyes.

The patrol was uneventful. The only demons they came across were smaller varieties, and though they heard the cries of bigger demons on the outskirts, the city centre was slowly coming back to life with the bustle of workers. Not that it was a joyous crowd; many looked thin and tired, and the stores which sold food were low on stock or had been forced to close. The busiest building they passed was a shelter. On some streets it seemed like no buildings had escaped the ravaging of demons, and whole strips of roofing or house fronts were being repaired. People nodded to them as they passed, solemn. Yddris was stopped more than once to pass on thanks to a colleague who had saved lives over the season. Jordan vaguely wondered at what point everyone would go back to shunning them.

Still, it was a welcome change to dark, empty patrol routes of the past season. He could see the city by more than just its rune nets. He hadn't seen much of it before the dark season fell, so he found plenty to interest him as they walked. It was better than running over his problems a hundred more times.

When they reached the Demon's Brew, Nika, Grace and Nova had just arrived. They met at the door, Yddris and Nika stalwartly ignoring each other. It must have been a bad row; even in their worst spats it rarely got heated enough for them to pretend the other didn't exist. Not that Grace and Jordan's relations were in much better shape. Nova seemed the only one unaffected by the tension, though Jordan had never been sure whether she just possessed an excellent poker face.

"Ah!" Kedrick came out from behind the bar as they entered.

"Kedrick," Yddris said, seeming glad of the excuse to escape Nika's crackling aura. "Long time no see."

They vigorously shook elbows and clapped each other on the back. The kitchen door at the back of the room swung open to admit Laurel's curious face into the room, and Jordan's already considerable feeling of guilt grew as her eyes lit up.

"Hey stranger," she said, skipping over. She hugged him, and he leaned down at her impatient gesture so she could peck him on the cheek. "How was it?"

"Good." He cleared his throat. "It was good, yeah."

"Excellent," she said. "Well met, Grace."

Jordan frowned. He had expected that the distance might stall things, and while she had greeted him warmly, he got no impression that she'd missed him. Not that he could talk – it had taken him over a week to even let her know he was back. Perhaps this was all it had ever been, and he had been too desperate for comfort to notice. They had never made concerted efforts to see each other outside of the times the Unspoken visited anyway, he realised. Not since the first few weeks, when Jordan was very new to the Gift. Not since the Hallow Festival when he had turned her down because of the Devils. Had she given up on him as a permanent prospect back then? Thinking about it, he wasn't sure he'd want a permanent arrangement with anyone who could – even accidentally – get them kidnapped. Or someone who had spent weeks waking up yelling and sweaty in the night, claiming someone was out to get him.

Thinking about it, he wasn't any kind of prospect at all.

Yddris nudged him. Jordan blinked, but the weight that had settled over him didn't shift. "Hm?"

"Killian asked if you wanted food," the Unspoken said. "It was only a three hour patrol, boy, you're not dipping out already, are you?"

"No, I was just...thinking." About how I've managed to thoroughly disappoint all of the women and most of the men in my life. "I'm not that hungry." He tried for a cheerful tone, but it probably came out strangled. "Something to drink would be great, though."

Kedrick grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll get you something started. I'm not sure I've met your other companion...?"

Nova, wearing one of Grace's dresses with a shawl as a makeshift hood, lowered her cover. She had bathed and plaited her hair, and somehow the effort drew more attention to how pale and thin she looked. What he had previously taken to be smudges of ash or dirt turned out to be bruises. Small light patches in her brushed hair hinted at a habit of being yanked beyond the point of recovery. His throat caught.

"Night take me," Kedrick said hoarsely. "Put that hood up and take her into the back room before someone sees her!"

"She's with us under the lord's instruction," Nika said in a placating tone.

"Though it's nice to know that you'd help us out in the event that we had kidnapped my employer's slave," Yddris said. He clapped Kedrick on the shoulder. "We'll sit in the back room anyway. Probably a good idea."

"You're going to be the death of me one day, Yddris."

Nova smirked as she replaced her covering, a rare sight on her usually stoic face. She stuck to Grace's side as they skirted the bar and entered the small back room of the inn. The Unspoken followed.

"Going for a slash, I'll join you in a minute," Yddris grunted, turning off and heading for the courtyard door. Jordan grunted back in response. Grace turned to him, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"You're starting to sound like him."

"Am not!"

"Are too!" She dropped back to nudge an elbow into his ribs. He caught it and whirled her round into an embrace, laughing with her as she cackled. "You wait, you'll be rocking a pipe before long."

"Nah." He clasped her close to his side as they entered the room, accepting the truce. There would have to be conversations later, but it would be a lie if he said it wasn't a relief to have it all out in the open. For now, things were forgiven. "Don't think a pipe would suit me. Not old enough."

"Don't let Yddris hear you say that," Laurel stage-whispered. When he and Grace sat down, she took the seat on his other side. "I hope you've brought a sketchbook to show me."

"As a matter of fact, I have." He pulled his most recent sketchbook out of the inside pocket of his cloak and handed it over. "There's a lot of medical stuff in there, it might not be all that interesting towards the end."

"How come I haven't seen this yet?" Grace demanded, angling across his lap to look as well. There was barely room between the two girls for Killian to put Jordan's pint down. The man winked as he made his way around the table with the tray, but offered no assistance. By the time everyone had a drink, Nova had succumbed to curiosity as well and he had been all but squeezed out of his seat.

"Are you sure you don't want food, Thorne?" Nika called, entering the room with Kedrick. He looked around. "Where did Yddris go?"

"Courtyard," Jordan called back. "And no, thanks."

"Aw, look at this," Laurel cooed, pointing at a drawing of Ren sprawled on her back on Thirris's decking. The subject of the drawing fidgeted inside Jordan's hood at the noise.

"Mm," Jordan grunted. "Turned out that meant she'd eaten too many slugs and planned to retch them up by my face while I was asleep. So very cute."

"It's an expression of love," Laurel said, laughing.

"I'd take just a hug, to be honest."

"You don't want me to vomit on your pillow later?"

Grace let out a peal of laughter. Heat rose up his neck, but he couldn't help laughing as well. "I'll pass, actually."

The two girls continued to talk over the sketchbook with each other. It was gratifying to see them getting along, though he couldn't say he felt as warmly towards Grace's choice of partner; Nova's face had returned to its usual state of expressionlessness, and he caught her watching him more than once. It always felt as though she was sizing him up for something. It was Nova, though, who leaned over and muttered to him after several minutes, "Yddris is taking a long time."

Jordan looked around, frowning. Yddris usually took so little time no one noticed he was gone, yet his seat remained empty, drink untouched. Had he been called away on unexpected business for Harkenn? He wouldn't leave for something like that without at least notifying Nika that he was going. Jordan nodded to Nova and pushed back from the table. As he crossed the taproom to the courtyard door, he kept a hand on the grip of his hunting knife. Killian met him halfway there.

"Everything alright, Thorne?"

"I hope so."

Killian's cheerful look sobered. Without speaking, he drew up behind Jordan and walked with him to the door, and it was a relief to have him there. He could just be having a shit, he reasoned with himself, and then dismissed it. Even if he was in for mental scarring after all, it was better to assume the worst in Nictaven and check.

He nudged the door open and peered out. "Yddris?"

A shadow moved against the wall. Jordan's heart leapt into his throat until the figure resolved itself into the cut of an Unspoken cloak and his tutor's familiar aura reached him. Something was wrong, he could tell immediately.

"What happened?" he asked. "What's kept you?"

Yddris made a noise as if to speak, and then seemed to notice Killian for the first time and started again. "Nothing. I'm fine, boy. Things just don't work as promptly when you're my age."

Jordan narrowed his eyes. "Just wanted to check. Thanks, Kil."

"Let me know if you need anything." Killian looked between them again as if he wanted to say more, and Jordan felt a brief flash of guilt for so abruptly dismissing him. There wasn't anything for it, though; Yddris clearly wasn't going to say anything with him standing there. As the innkeeper's son went back inside, letting the door shut softly behind him, Jordan stared expectantly at his tutor.

"It was up there," was all Yddris said. He pointed at a roof overlooking the courtyard from the street that it backed onto. "Just watching. With the blade pointing at me."

Jordan forced down a sudden urge to run back inside the inn. The roof that Yddris pointed at was no longer occupied.

"Why didn't you come back inside?" he croaked. "Couldn't your piss have waited, under the circumstances?"

"It didn't come to kill me, I don't think. It had plenty of opportunity to do so before I noticed it." His tutor's voice was hollow, exhausted. "I waited to see...if it was what I thought it was. Not like that," he snapped, as Jordan opened his mouth to make the point that they knew full well what it was, "I wanted to know if it was...a warning. And if so, if it was from someone I suspected."

Jordan looked up at the roofline again. Yddris's gaze hadn't left it. "You're freaking me out. A warning from who?"

They met eyes. All of a sudden, Jordan guessed.

"You think the Devils have worked out who you were?" he whispered.

"Or the Caelumese." Yddris shook his head and turned back towards the inn door. "I hope I'm being paranoid and it was just a close shave. Because if either of them know, I'm a dead man walking myself."

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Regards,

Elinor (S E Harrison)