Nightfire | The Whispering Wall #1

Seventeen: A Wager

"Fancy seeing you here."

Arlen dropped from the roof and landed behind the otherworld boy in the alley. The boy whirled to face him, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. The gutter behind him was swimming with puke.

Arlen's lip curled at the smell. "Bought from the wrong vendor, did you?"

The boy just stared at him, goggle-eyed and reeking. There was something hanging around him that was reminiscent of the Unspoken, and Arlen's frown deepened. Perhaps the Gift would manifest sooner than he had banked on.

"That note you gave me," the boy said abruptly, "What did it say?"

Arlen casually hooked out one of his daggers for polishing on his tunic, staring over the flashing blade. The boy's eyes followed it and his face turned wan.

"Well, Jordan... It is Jordan, isn't it?"

The boy nodded.

"That depends entirely on how many people know about the note." He smiled nastily. "Its translation changes the higher the number goes, see."

Jordan swallowed. "Just me."

"And?"

"I didn't tell Yddris," Jordan said quickly, "But I swear he knew I had something."

Arlen scowled. Jordan, apparently interpreting it as directed at him, backed up and put his foot in his own sick. Arlen snorted, put his dagger away and leaned back against the building behind him with his arms crossed.

"Listen, boy," he said, as Jordan tried to scrape his boot heel on the wall and keep an eye on Arlen at the same time. "I want to help you get what you want; I told you that last time we met. The Unspoken will get in the way if you let him." He fixed the boy with a shrewd look as guilt passed over his face. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"No," Jordan said, "I mean... I don't know. I don't know either of you. You even less than him."

"Wouldn't be too sure about that," Arlen said with a grin, "Those cloaks hide things. Me, I'm an honest man. I might pick your pocket and spill your guts on the street but you'll know who did it."

Jordan went white. Arlen laughed.

"Don't look so worried, I've already said I won't hurt you."

"Actually, you didn't..."

"Anyway," he added loudly. "The note. It was an address, actually, but since I've bumped into you here it's hardly important."

"An address?"

"I made you an offer," Arlen said. "Remember? You help me, I return the favour. Get me?"

Jordan looked faintly green by this point. Feigning a casual move, Arlen stepped out of the range of fire if the boy threw up again.

"If you can't make all of this go away," Jordan said slowly, "I'm not interested."

"And if I said I could?" Arlen smiled and cocked his head. "What would you say?"

"I would say that sounds like a lie."

Arlen considered him for a moment. There was a waver there, he was sure of it. It was obvious that the boy wanted it badly enough to ask; it wasn't clear whether he would act on it. Jordan was clearly naïve, but not thick. Arlen wondered whether he might have judged unfairly the first time he'd seen the boy. He could think of more than one person who might have jumped on the offer with no consideration at all.

Feeling considerably kinder and relieved that he wasn't dealing with a total blockhead, he relaxed his stance with a lazy smile.

"You're not stupid, are you, boy?" he said. "That's good. Not much use I can get out of an idiot. So...okay, you caught me exaggerating a bit. I'm afraid I can't do anything about you being Gifted, boy; if that's going to happen, it's going to happen no matter what you do."