Nightsworn | The Whispering Wall #2

Seventy Two: A Search

This is madness.

For once, he couldn't blame this one on Arlen. It had all been his idea, and as he had discussed the plans the previous night with his teacher, he hadn't liked the glimmer of satisfaction in Arlen's face as Jordan made suggestions and provided information. He wasn't remotely comfortable giving away the guest wing maps that Nova had sketched out for him, convinced it would be used in one of Arlen's nefarious plans later down the line, but what choice did he have? He had asked for the assassin's help and been accepted. No point getting squeamish now.

He walked along the guest corridor in the central wing of the castle. It wasn't far from Harkenn's study. It seemed ludicrous that the lord would take such a risk putting the Caelumese guests so close to his own rooms, but he also wouldn't have put it past the Angels to just move themselves, confident that the lord wouldn't have the wherewithal to notice. Jordan had just left a report to Lord Harkenn about his training progress, and the man had been barely recognisable.

Yddris waited at the end of the corridor. He didn't move until Jordan reached him, and even then it was only to heave a sigh. "How did the meeting go?"

Jordan hesitated. He was still trembling from the experience. "Horrible. Cael was poking at my mind the whole time, and Harkenn had a seizure halfway through and forgot who I was for five minutes."

The whole thing had fallen apart when Cael entered the room.

"Has Yddris given you an approximate time frame for graduating? Or is it too early to tell?" Harkenn had been asking him, partially concealing a tremor in his arm under the table. His paleness had turned sick and waxy. Even his orange glare had faded to glassy vagueness. Then the office door had opened without a preceding knock, Cael had entered, offering Jordan a smirk as he passed, and Harkenn had first turned unfocused and then slumped over on the desk and begun to seize. Jordan had only been grateful that the captain of the guard had followed the Angel inside and been able to assist.

"I don't understand why we can't just kick them out," he said, pulling himself back from that unpleasant memory. "It's obvious to everyone that something's gone wrong."

"Because if we show our hand too soon, boy, the Caelumese will leave and take any hope of curing Harkenn with them," Yddris muttered. "We can't afford to lose them before we know what they've done to him, or risk giving Lucifer an excuse to push harder while Harkenn is indisposed. Until the lord's signature is on a contract they like, or until he's dead, they won't leave. If they go empty handed and on the end of his boot, Lucifer will send someone else. He might even send an army, and without proof he'd be justified."

Jordan shuddered. "Still. I'm not looking forward to this at all."

"There are worse uses you could be putting these skills to," Yddris replied. "If you ask me, getting the practice Blackheart wants out of you from jobs that serve Harkenn is about as well as it could have worked out for you."

"If I remember right, that was my argument when I suggested it," Jordan said, a little smugly. His tutor just gestured rudely and led him on further down the corridor.

Jeorge Nerahardt was climbing a servants' staircase when they reached their meeting point, a scowl on his face. He didn't look any happier to find them already waiting at the top for him. "Those stairs are an absolute mare for a man on a crutch." He staggered to the landing, digging in his pocket. "Brillan would like me to pass on that he'll have your hide if a single one of these is missing when he gets them back."

He produced the castle's master key set and handed them over. All the keys save one had been tied together with string.

"Don't let any of them even touch that set, boy," Yddris added. "You won't see them swipe one if they have a mind to."