Sixty Nine: Concealments

Jordan fidgeted at the tickling sensation on the back of his neck. "Grace."

"This one looks like a symbol," his sister said, undeterred by the irritation in his voice. "Is that what a rune looks like?"

It always took him a while to remember that not everyone else could see runes as he could. He sighed. "Yeah."

She shifted herself onto his stool with him, glancing over at his work. Not that he had done much, preoccupied as he was by the coming night. He had hoped it would distract him, but so far it had done a dismal job. Still, he couldn't kid himself that trying to sleep would work any better. Even though Yddris had found a couple of hours to spar with him in Kedrick's attic that day – also with an avid audience – he felt restless.

Soft footsteps alerted him to Nova's presence in the room. He wasn't surprised. If Grace showed up somewhere alone, it wasn't long before the Angel followed, as if she was afraid Grace would disappear if she left her sight for too long. Jordan could somewhat understand the sentiment. After the visit up to the castle, Nova's mood had seemed darker than usual. She hadn't even responded very enthusiastically to Grace's greeting, which usually brought a bit of a light to her eyes.

"Laurel's finished changing the sheets," she said. "I'm going to bed."

"You're early," Grace said. The teasing smile on her face faded when Nova's answering smile was only fleeting. "Is something wrong? Do you not feel well? I can ask Nika to..."

"No," Nova interrupted firmly. "There's nothing wrong. I'll be in bed if you need me."

She left, and Grace's brow furrowed as she watched her go. Jordan sighed and put down his pen after carefully wiping down the nib. "Go on," he said. "I don't think she'd have come down here if she wasn't hoping you'd go to bed with her. We spent all day together."

Grace hesitated, torn. "Are you going out tonight?"

"Yes."

"On patrol, or..."

He gave her a level stare. "You're doing a terrible job of pretending you don't know what's going on. Whichever will make you worry less, that's what I'm doing."

She scowled at him. "It all makes me worry. Just the fact that you're out at night makes me worry."

"I'm never out alone. Everyone I'm with knows what they're doing, no matter who it is." That at least was true.

She still looked unconvinced, but seemed to sense defeat. Jordan wished she wouldn't try – it only made it harder to go out, and it never changed how much choice he had in the matter. He would have liked nothing more than to stay here at the inn, warm and rune-protected with his sister nearby, but he couldn't ignore a summons from either of his teachers. And, he hesitated to admit to himself, he was starting to prefer sleeping in the daytime anyway. Silas never appeared during daylight hours, and he slept better when he knew that demons had mostly gone to ground. Yddris was most likely to be at the castle so he would be left alone, and Nictaven's current pulsed so loudly at night now that daytime was a respite. Some Unspoken habits he had always assumed were eccentricities or practicalities of the job, but he was fast discovering that a lot of them had a basis in much more day to day necessity.

"Okay," she finally mumbled, chewing on her lip. "Be careful, Joe. I love you."

They embraced. He held on for longer than he'd intended; he got hugged so infrequently while wearing the cloak. In the few days Grace had been staying at the inn, they had had a real chance to catch up, instead of snatching an hour of conversation when their schedules allowed. That, he thought, more than anything else, had helped his sister understand that he wasn't going to be able to get rid of the Gift. If the implications of that in any efforts they might make to get home had occurred to her at all, she hadn't voiced them. Her sudden curiosity about his training was a welcome change from the distance and suspicion she had previously kept reserved for it.

Not so welcome was her interest in his other form of training.

"Goodnight, Grace," he muttered into her shoulder. "I'll see you in the morning."

When she left, he sat back down at the desk. He pondered the window for a moment, wondering if Akiva was already perched on the gable above it, ready to escort him to Arlen's. He would wait until he heard Kedrick go to bed in the room above, and then he would sneak out through the courtyard.

The next hour crawled by. He heard both Nika and Yddris head to a room along the corridor, having a minor dispute about something. Laurel shuffled about outside, lighting some candles and putting out others. He thought about asking her in, but then decided it would be too difficult to extract himself in time, even if all they did was talk. Only when he heard Kedrick's heavy steps pass the door did he gather his things. He waited another full hour, tense for any sound that suggested someone was still up and about, and then got changed. Unlike his room back at Yddris's, this one had a mirror mounted on the wall. The Devil between his shoulders winked at him as he moved in his peripheral vision. He had lost weight over the season, but gained muscle; Grace had been right. His shoulders looked more solid than he'd ever seen them. His face looked angular in a way that reminded him uncomfortably of Arlen – sharp and wary. Silver scar tissue, still tinged pinkish, pulled the skin tight on one shoulder from where a walking corpse with a sword had tried to kill him. He had never been much of a reader, but he was sure he could have fitted very comfortably into some kind of fantasy novel.

He crept out of his room and onto the landing, pulling up all his face coverings. He froze as he heard movement down the corridor, and soft voices. Light glittered under Nika's door. Next to it, the door of the room Yddris slept in stood ajar. So the Unspoken were not asleep yet. But it wasn't a disaster if they heard him leave; they both knew.

He paused with his foot above the top step, frowning. It didn't seem as though the argument had lasted long, and yet something was...

Oh.

Some part of him had suspected, he thought to himself, as he hurried down the stairs with his neck flaming with embarrassment. Not anything he had paid much attention to before. He felt filthy for having heard what was clearly a well-guarded secret, and hoped they'd been too distracted to notice Jordan hovering outside. What on earth had made him hesitate?

There were some things a person should never know about their teacher.

He couldn't get out of the courtyard door fast enough. He stood by the door for a while, until he sensed the net link back up securely. He sensed Akiva heading his way a second before the assassin dropped into the courtyard beside him.

"Thought I was going to have to come in and get you." The man's grin glinted in the dimness. "What kept you?"

"I hadn't let anyone else in on my plans," Jordan replied drily. "So they went to bed when they felt like it."

Akiva rolled his eyes dramatically and grinned. "Selfish bastards, eh? Let's get going, then."

Jordan followed Akiva from the courtyard, only glancing up once at the casement window above. Then he shoved the revelation of the evening firmly from his thoughts. It was none of his business and never had been, and if he arrived distracted Arlen would pester him relentlessly over the reason. He didn't want to think what might happen if Yddris found out he knew. It was a miracle that he had lived with the two men for this long and never realised it before.

The streets had been getting gradually busier even at night. Akiva seemed unbothered, striding along as if he owned the place and only evading the city guard. Jordan guessed from some faces that he didn't go entirely unrecognised, but no one made a move to stop him and they weren't pursued. He refused to think about what that said of Akiva's reputation, because with the Devils it was quickly becoming apparent that word of mouth reputation was often accurate.

"Bit of a change of plans tonight," the assassin said. He ducked between two wagonloads of ale kegs waiting in the road outside a tavern, sending a serving boy running. Jordan tried to look as confident as Akiva felt, but he doubted he succeeded. No matter what guise he wore it seemed that people were destined to treat him like he was diseased.

"Oh, right," he replied, trying not to sound relieved that he wasn't visiting a poison dealer that evening after all. "I'm guessing there's a new plan, though. Or I wouldn't be here. What is it?"

Akiva seemed a bit put out that Jordan wasn't playing the game, but he was quickly learning how to short-circuit Jesper and Akiva's teasing and he wasn't in the mood this evening. "We're dealing with another hare-brained plan that we caught wind of at the last minute. Arlen's fit to spit over not knowing about it."

"What plan?" Jordan asked, not without trepidation. The food store operation was still fresh in his mind.

"Don't worry, you're not in this one," Akiva said, chuckling. Then he sobered. "They're lighting the Kiel temple on fire."

"They're what?" Jordan stopped in his tracks, on the cusp of running back to tell Yddris, but Akiva grabbed his arm and leaned in.

"If you want Arlen's help, kid, you've got to play this his way. If he wanted your witch man to know, he would have told you when you could do something about it. Come on."

Jordan's arm ached where Akiva had gripped it. He followed, despite every instinct in him screaming otherwise. Try as he might, he couldn't see what anyone would gain from setting such an influential temple on fire, run by a woman whom Harkenn held in very high regard. Or perhaps that was the point.

"As it is, we're too late to stop anything," Akiva continued. "Not even if you ran back there right now. So we're the salvage team this evening. Well, Usk and Jesper are. Oh. There we go."

The assassin stopped. A hint of smoke was on the breeze that blew down the street towards them. A few moments later, the distress bell tolled, followed by the unmistakable wail of a Firebull. Others were slowing in the street around them, asking questions of their neighbours. He put up no resistance as Akiva steered him on. He'd seen children coming in and out of that temple. And if the bell woke those in the inn, everyone would know he was gone, and that he had gone without Yddris.

"But why?" he finally found the wits to ask, as they reached the edge of the quarter. The streets had begun clearing, and so many guards were heading towards the temple across the quarter that it was possible to faintly hear them. His thoughts were finally clearing enough to evade panic; it was already done, and it was on Arlen for not telling him. Most of those who would note his absence already knew where he would be. As for Yddris and Nika, he wasn't going to so much as think about it unless one of them brought it up.

"Why what? Oh. Well, since our most esteemed employer didn't even tell us it was happening, it's not all that surprising that your guess is as good as ours."

"He's not telling any of your group anything?"

Akiva's face darkened uncharacteristically. "No. Though I don't think anyone but Gelert's group was in on it. Perhaps he knew that it wouldn't have majority support if he called a vote on it. Because it wouldn't." Akiva shrugged, his grin returning. "Believe it or not, criminals can be just as superstitious as anyone else."

"Gelert seemed like a dick."

"Seemed?" Akiva sneered. "Beats me why he's suddenly the favourite. The boss will never get from him what he got from Arlen without condition. Almost without. He only had one."

"No Caelumese?"

"No Caelumese." Akiva nodded. "And I'm inclined to say that's both reasonable and sensible, as far as I can judge these things." Jordan's stance must have given his thoughts away, because the assassin tacked on, "Which is admittedly not all that far."

When they reached the bottom of the crates up to Arlen's rooms, Jordan was alarmed to hear a female voice inside. He hoped it wasn't Ashe; the woman didn't seem to have any reservations or concept of boundaries. But when he got inside, he was even more alarmed to find that it wasn't Ashe, or even an adult – sitting opposite Arlen at the table was a young Varthian girl, probably around fourteen years of age, wearing a nightdress and a deep frown. She had the shaved head of a Kelian acolyte.

"You're tardy tonight," Arlen said without preamble. The assassin scowled at him.

"Couldn't get away," Jordan replied, still staring at the girl. She glanced at him curiously, but didn't appear to want Arlen out of her sight for more than a few seconds at once. Well, she was wise at least.

"Arl, what the fuck," Akiva said as he climbed in and spotted the girl. The effect on her was instantaneous; she went white as a sheet and backed herself out of the chair.

"There's glass over there," Jordan called out. "Careful."

Despite her panic the girl stopped retreating, but her eyes never left Akiva. Jordan dreaded to think what history they had – and then it occurred to him. Was this the acolyte Grace had mentioned? No wonder she looked so terrified. Akiva's easy, friendly manner was disconcerting when one considered all the crimes he had committed, and the nature of them. It was probably the reason he had got away with it for so long. No one would ever mistake Arlen for a law-abiding citizen, but Akiva could easily pull it off.

"See, this is what you get when you hide out in bathrooms," Arlen drawled at Akiva.

"I'd like to see you try and find some other way of getting past the priestesses," Akiva retorted. "I would have taken any other option if I'd had one."

It didn't seem to endear him to the girl. She looked incredibly young and vulnerable, and Jordan felt sorry for her getting tangled up with the Devils at her age. As if she sensed him watching her, she looked over, her amber eyes still wide.

"We've come to some agreements," Arlen said. "Don't say I can't keep my word, kid. Dela here is going to give you the means of getting into that winged dickbag's rooms to see if you can dig up any clues on Harkenn's...problem." His lip curled. Jordan hadn't expected him to be enthused about the job, but he also hadn't expected the price he offered to be seized on so enthusiastically. Despite his words to Yddris, it had been hard not to feel uneasy about it. "She is also going to help us with searching the Orthan temple. Usk and I will be accompanying you on the Orthan job. I'm sending you with Jesper and Kiv for the other. Raz is on reserve for both."

"Nice," Akiva said with genuine enthusiasm. Jordan couldn't find it in him to echo the sentiment. "This is going to be fun."

"Unfortunately," Arlen continued, "before any of that can happen, our employer has demanded a meeting. I don't know what to expect from it, so we should be prepared for anything."

The knot in his guts couldn't have wound itself any tighter. He had only been to the beer hall a couple of times, and wasn't keen on repeating the experience. And while he was glad to be making progress on the issue with Harkenn, he hadn't banked on being so heavily involved. Arlen grinned, as if sensing the direction of his thoughts.

"Any practice is good practice in this field, kid. You wanted my help, you're getting it. This is no more than the price you set for that help."

"I know."

"And you're going to need a guild name." He looked back up at his teacher, who had turned serious again. "You can't use your real name for this work. It's too distinctive."

Darin had suggested something similar a long time ago, but Jordan had given it no thought since then. He supposed Arlen had a point; he couldn't use his plainly otherworld name, and he certainly couldn't use his Unspoken name. It occurred to him with a jolt that perhaps Arlen still didn't know his Unspoken name, and hoped he could keep it that way until graduation. His mind buzzed; there were far too many revelations happening this evening for comfort.

"I'll think of one," he muttered. Then, louder, "Have you heard anything on what's happening with the temple?"

A small strangled noise escaped the girl in the corner. Arlen ignored it, but Jordan's heart sank when he saw she was on the brink of tears.

"Nothing we could've done about it," Arlen said shortly. "I had Jesper flood the baths to try and contain the issue, but we were never going to stop it. And we're going to pretend we never would have, because Marick can sniff out the slightest fucking waver. Whatever he asks us to do, we're going to do it. And you are going to claim complete ignorance of any rumours he might bring up about me."

Jordan nodded.

"Something broke the rune nets." The girl spoke for the first time. Her voice was surprisingly low and clear, and she met Jordan's eye when he turned to her. "Do you know what could have done that?"

Jordan's veins ran with ice at that. "The rune nets were broken?"

"Three Firebulls made it into the courtyard," the girl choked up and then tried again, "when they shouldn't have been able to get in spotting distance. I was running away when...when..."

"Burns is not going to be a problem," Arlen muttered. "Don't glare at me, kid, Usk intercepted a bottom-rung lackey making off with her. For once, this wasn't me."

Jordan looked at the girl, trying to judge how much to tell her. If she was a Kelian acolyte, she would not take kindly to finding out that the missing bodies from her temple were running around trying to kill people. He hadn't so much as a hint of an answer to give her if she asked how it was possible. Even Cara had been at a loss. "The...people...who have been murdering Unspoken can also break rune nets." He became aware of both Akiva and Arlen watching him with interest now. "No idea how, or why they do it. No one's ever heard one speak." If they even could. "But then we don't know how they're killing the Unspoken, either."

He felt a pang of worry for Yddris and Nika, who would probably be first onto the scene when the news got out. They knew what to look for, and they'd be able to tell straight away that the net was broken. They'd be fine. He balked when he realised that that would leave Grace alone at the inn.

"Kiv," Arlen said. He seemed to read the direction of Jordan's thoughts. "If you can find Jes, send him to watch out for the girl tonight." He scowled. "I did promise."

"You're Grace's brother, aren't you?" the girl blurted, and then looked embarrassed with herself. Jordan stared. "I like your sister. She always helps me out on my rounds, when she's there." She shrank further on herself under the assassins' stares. "She's interesting to talk to."

"She is that," Jordan muttered hoarsely. There was no point denying it. Sometimes he wondered if it was possible for him to ever achieve anonymity.

"When you're done," Arlen drawled. They both turned to look at him. The assassin, Jordan thought, looked exhausted. He suspected Marick had had something from Arlen that almost no one else ever saw from him; a betrayal like that would weigh heavily, and probably make the man even more paranoid than he already was. Despite Arlen being a despicable bastard, Jordan even felt a little bit sorry for him. The irony of feeling sorry for a prolific criminal who had been betrayed by an even more prolific criminal was not lost on him.

"Kid, I want you to go with Usk and take this girl back. Get to know each other a bit, you'll be working pretty closely for a while." Arlen looked between them and settled on the girl, whose jaw set as she fought to hold her ground. "You squeak to anybody about what you saw here, girl, and Usk will make a less friendly return visit. Keep in mind that this is entirely in your interest, if you don't want to be a Caelumese bed slave before you reach adulthood." He turned back to Jordan. "That goes for you too, but you know that already. Come back here afterwards. We've got a meeting to attend and some high stakes break-ins to plan." He grinned. "I told you things would get more exciting."

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Regards,

Elinor (S E Harrison)