Nightsworn | The Whispering Wall #2

Fifty: Suspects

Dela kept her eyes on her knees as they waited in Harkenn's study. She had known this meeting was coming, but still managed to be surprised when Kerrin sent for her. She should have anticipated that she would be required to attend.

She dreaded the conversation she would end up having with Lin later. The girl had watched her go with open disbelief, and even Dela could see that so many personal summonses from Kerrin was starting to look strange. She could not recall that she'd met a single person's eye all morning. She hadn't been able to.

The lord sat behind his desk, idly flicking a pen-knife around his fingers, though his posture was tense and unhappy. Behind him in her habitual chair, the Angel slave Anarabelle watched the lord, the door and Dela in turn, almost more alarming than anything else. The Angel had not shown such interest in any other meeting Dela had been to, not even the ones that would affect the whole city. Dela knew the woman could read truth from lie, and some rumours said she could read minds. Dela wondered if she suspected her of something. Only Kerrin remained cool and collected beside her.

A timid knock on the door released the tension like a spent breath.

"Come in," Harkenn barked, foot slipping from the desk. He sat up as Grace Haverford entered. The otherworld girl looked around at them all in blatant confusion, eyes lingering longest on the slave woman.

"You called for me, sir?"

"I've been given to understand that a criminal faction has attempted to contact you." Dela winced at the lord's bluntness. Grace went pale.

"I didn't go to meet anyone, my lord. I don't know who sent it."

"I'm aware you didn't," Harkenn said irritably. "You didn't have permission to leave the castle on the night they suggested, nor did you ask for it. I'm more concerned with why it wasn't brought straight to me. I do not like having Devils poking around my staff without my knowledge."

Grace thought for a moment. Dela admired her ability to pause; if she had been on the receiving end of that burning glare she would have babbled her guts out in a panic. Before the girl could answer, another knock on the door interrupted them.

"Enter."

Nika stepped inside the room. Dela had heard that the physician had temporarily taken up Yddris's post, and the strange touch of cold that entered the room with him confirmed his identity. He bowed his head in greeting.

"Were you aware of this communication?" Harkenn demanded, forgoing greetings. "Most of the permitted leave I've given to Miss Haverford was to go and see you."

"Not until very recently, my lord. I find it troubling."

"Troubling is putting it mildly," Harkenn muttered, some of the heat leaving his voice. His gaze switched to Dela, and it took all her effort and all her training not to visibly startle at his sudden attention. "I have some artist interpretations of known Devils. I want you to tell me if any of them match the one who assaulted you in the baths."

Dela felt heat rush to her face. All eyes in the room had turned to her at that. If the lord was aware of her embarrassment he showed no sign of it, producing a sheaf of papers from a desk drawer and laying them out on the table, forcing her to stand and move closer to him. He wasn't unpleasant to look upon, and was both clean and pleasant-smelling, but she still shuddered to be so close. The faces on the table glared and smirked back at her in turn. One was clearly a rendering of a Varthian man – ex-Varthian, she corrected herself. He still had his tribal braids and sharpened teeth, and a feral look in his eye that Dela had a feeling the artist hadn't fabricated.

Another was a man who tickled at her memory, and gave her a cold shock when she saw the name – Arlen (Last Name Unknown). His thin, angular jaw and ridged scar were familiar from the glimpse she'd got of him at the vigil on Wick Row. It made all kinds of sense why he had been covered up now.