Nightsworn | The Whispering Wall #2

Seventy One: Callan

There was nothing he could do about Usk shadowing him home, but Jordan still felt a flicker of annoyance as he entered the Nict temple courtyard. The Varthian went from a barely detectable presence to an impenetrable wall in front of him in two blinks.

"Does Arlen know you are doing this?" he demanded. Jordan couldn't hold his glare for long. He was too used to having the man throwing him about to put up too much resistance. He was very familiar with how strong Usk was.

"No," Jordan said. "I don't think so. Unless Callan told him."

"Callan requested it?" Usk's eyes narrowed. Jordan made himself meet his gaze again.

"Yes. He did. I don't come here unless someone's told me to."

The brute examined him for several disconcerting moments. Jordan had no idea how much of his face the Varthian could see in the rising light, but whatever he did see seemed to convince him that Jordan wasn't lying. "This is not anything against Arlen, then?"

"What?" Jordan blinked. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. "No. I don't think so. Callan passed the message through Yddris, so I doubt it has anything to do with the Devils. But I won't know what it is until I get in there." He added as much emphasis as he dared to the last few words.

Usk shifted, but his jaw was set firm as he said, "I believe you, kid. But never forget that you swore your wholehearted commitment to him. He does not take betrayal lightly."

I bet he doesn't. He pressed forward across the courtyard as Usk stepped out of his way. He'd betrayed that particular promise before he'd even made it, especially if Harkenn survived this ordeal. He didn't even want to think what would happen if he didn't. Would Yddris or Arlen be able to protect him from Marick in Harkenn's absence, if their suspicions about his plans with Caelum were true? Even Arlen didn't know what the Devils' guildmaster wanted with him, but he doubted it would be pleasant.

He lost sight of Usk almost immediately. He entered the silent prayer hall and headed straight for the cells. He was not pleased to be back here within the week, especially considering the nature of the last visit. He was exhausted and hungry, and wrung out from the stress of the meeting. He just wanted to get back to Ren, and a soft bed, and some hot food. The Demon's Brew was much further away than Yddris's house, but he hoped to cadge a lift on a supply wagon as far as it would take him. There would be plenty of them at this time of day.

The Nict temple looked strange in daylight, though the light beaming across the floor still managed to look grey and musty as it filtered through cell windows. He knocked smartly twice on Callan's door, knowing the old man wouldn't be asleep. Sure enough, the priest was fully alert when he opened the door. It looked as though Jordan had caught him in the midst of a mound of paperwork.

"I'm arranging accommodations for some of the displaced residents of the House of Kiel," Callan said by way of greeting. He gestured Jordan inside and closed the door behind them. "Nict do not have many properties, but there are two boarding houses we own in Bisa, and I'm sure they will suit much better than anything I could find them here."

"I thought Nict and Kiel didn't get on," Jordan said without thinking, and shut his mouth as Callan laughed. It was a thin, papery sound.

"Political stances don't negate the value of charity." The priest offered a knowing smile. "It always pays to be generous to powerful neighbours."

The man shuffled his papers together and secreted them away in a drawer. There was so much clutter already in it that Jordan would count it a miracle if Callan ever unearthed them again. He forced himself to be patient as the priest hummed and hovered around his possessions. It was a very different picture to the deadly-serious manner with which Callan had always dealt with him when he was on errands for Arlen.