Nightfire | The Whispering Wall #1

Forty: Threat

As Arlen dropped to the crenulations circling the building below Jordan's window, he was cursing every god he knew. He had seen the boy start to crumble under the pressure; he had almost had him, and that bastard Unspoken...

He took a deep breath of evening air, bringing his temper back under control. It wasn't the boy's fault Marick had decided to play it like this, while Yddris was still squarely in the way. The Unspoken hadn't known Jordan long enough to build the kind of trust that led to fewer questions and a slacker surveillance. Having Silas forced on him had in turn forced Arlen to show his hand sooner than he would have liked and now he was dodging Yddris at every turn, second-guessing how much the Unspoken knew about him and his plans. It always appeared to be more than he would have liked.

He had eventually told Marick that Yddris had known his last name, in the hours following Jordan's release from the warehouse. It had seemed like an inevitability that Marick would find out some other way, and he'd rather it came from his own mouth. It could potentially ruin all their plans if Yddris knew more than he was letting on.

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" Marick had snapped, and then he had gone eerily calm. "No matter. Things will go ahead as planned. Concentrate on the job I gave you for now."

That, more than anything, had pissed Arlen off. His employer could have had any number of reasons for making sure he didn't interfere with the meeting he had with Jordan, but this was breaking a cardinal rule of the guild. People who knew more than they should had to die, though that person being a witch man was an obstacle. Still, he had expected it to be taken seriously, not to have it brushed off like he was some sort of rambling child. Marick hadn't treated him like a child when he was little more than that, joining the guild for the first time at a little over fourteen years old. The man hadn't been leader then, and though he wasn't Arlen's tutor, either, Arlen owed half of his skills to Marick. It was more than a little needling to be brushed aside like that.

Arlen scowled and shook his head clear of those thoughts; that wasn't what he was here for. He hadn't even intended to drop in on Jordan, but when he had found the window unlocked, he hadn't been able to help himself.

It wasn't quite full night yet, but all the torches around the castle's inner ramparts were lit and firelight glowed in dozens of windows. In the middle distance, Orthan's house temple shone like a beacon, filling the air around it with a golden haze, and far below, he heard the metallic crank of the gatehouse portcullis coming down for the night. The mountains on the borders of the city were glowing only feebly, thin veins of green just visible if one squinted hard enough. Arlen would find a private room for the night in a pleasure house that didn't ask too many questions instead of trying to get home before the demons came out. He would have preferred an inn, but this close to the seat of power, seedier was safer.

He jumped down to walkway of the curtain wall. They hadn't yet stationed guards here for the night; the inner wall was guarded in the dark season only, when there was no guarantee the runework on the outer would hold under the constant battering from demons. Arlen didn't know how that witchcraft worked and mistrusted it as a point of principle, but even he had to admit that it was clever. He had heard tales of the time before the city was rune-warded. It was the only time he didn't begrudge Unspoken their utter strangeness.

He didn't come across many guards as he darted along the wall. The few he did see were easy to skirt around, deep in conversation or focused in the wrong direction. Arlen hadn't had time to choose a mark and learn to impersonate them, so he relied on his speed and silence. He supposed he had had enough misfortune befall him in recent days that Nict might have sat up and taken notice, since he made it to his destination unseen despite the bustle in the main building. It gratified him that for once he had managed to make a plan that Yddris hadn't guessed ahead of time. After all, what business would an assassin have with an Angel?