Nightsworn | The Whispering Wall #2

Eighty Nine: Evidence

"Are you sure I can't come?" Grace asked. She took hold of Nova's fingers. "No, no, it goes over that way..."

Nova bared her teeth in frustration. She hadn't thought having her own boots would be this complicated, but Caelumese styles had always been buckled and she'd never needed to learn how to tie laces. For the past ten years she hadn't had any shoes at all. "Harkenn said no. I did ask." She scowled as Grace finished tying the shoe with a flourish. "When I did that it just unravelled."

"You pulled it out too far." Grace straightened up with a sigh. "We'll try again tomorrow. You need to get going."

Nova didn't move towards the door. She peered at Grace instead, at the pinch of stress in one corner of her mouth and the worry line between her brows. She hadn't lost that worry line since her brother came home the evening before, and for ample reason; Thorne had been completely out of sorts and uncommunicative, and had gone straight to bed. Nova could tell from his aura that something was wrong, and she suspected Cael had something to do with it, but if Grace couldn't get him to talk about it then Nova wasn't about to go stirring that pot herself.

"What?" Grace asked, immediately irritable, but she softened as Nova kissed her gently on the mouth. She stepped back, marvelling at her nerve, marvelling that she could do this now. Not that she was going to rub Harkenn's face in it – that was one way to get it rescinded – but if she just allowed him to forget about it, perhaps she'd have it for longer. If she believed it would last forever then it would just crush her when it didn't.

But they had now, and now was good enough.

"I love you," she said.

Grace's eyes welled with tears. Nova watched, alarmed, as two escaped and splashed down her cheeks. At the same time, the girl was smiling. "I love you."

A soft throat clearance from the door drew their attention. Nova flinched. It was so unlike her not to notice anyone approaching. Nika's aura was warm and slightly embarrassed as he shifted position against the doorframe, and she could tell how much pain it caused him just to be standing. Grace's efforts to get the Unspoken to rest still hadn't been fruitful. "Your escort is waiting outside, Anarabelle."

Grace grabbed her fingers and squeezed, then turned to Nika. "How's Jordan?"

"Still asleep," Nika replied. "I've given him a mild sedative so it can be more restful."

"Is he still having tremors?"

"Not as badly." Nika sighed. "As far as I can tell he's not suffered any physical harm that should produce these effects. He's had cracked ribs before and bounced right back."

"Cael, probably," Nova said. "I wouldn't have put anything past him. It's a favour to us all that he's dead."

She grimaced at the memory. That had been the deciding moment of the battle; the moment two Devils had dragged Cael's corpse to Harkenn's gates and dropped it at the feet of his soldiers. For a moment, the two of them had stood in the eerie silence and stillness, staring at them all – one slender woman with spiky hair and a tall, lanky man rattling with knives. Behind them, much more slowly, had come a man with a blind eye and half of one leg replaced with metal.

Nova had seen it from Harkenn's side as he came to the gate, tightly guarded by a group of soldiers and dragging Varron by his chained wrists. She had looked upon a scene of utter carnage. Bodies littered the causeway into the city. The air was rank with blood and sweat.

"Go," the Angel commander had said, with a sword pressed hard into the small of his back.

And the Caelumese had gone with surprisingly little protest. They hadn't tried to regain their general. They had fled, those few that hadn't already at the sight of the Unspoken fighting in the melee. Harkenn had sent soldiers after them like a pack of hunting dogs, without breaking his gaze from the Devil's.