Nightfire | The Whispering Wall #1

Fifty One: An Emergency

Nova awoke to yelling. At first she couldn't make sense of it; she'd only just fallen into an uneasy sleep. Since the Unspoken murder case went cold, Faellian had stopped banishing her to the kitchens at night, instead forcing her to sleep in front of the hearth in his room, chained to the wall. She had never slept well in here, and it was annoying that she'd been disturbed. She expected to look up and find Faellian jumping out of bed to give whoever was yelling a hiding, but the bed was empty.

Then she realised Faellian was the one yelling.

"What do you mean, he's dead?" he shouted, and his voice echoed in a way that suggested he was very far away, and whoever he was yelling at would be rendered somewhat deaf for the next few hours. She shifted as close to the door as her chain allowed her to try and catch a response, but couldn't hear anything.

Faellian fell quiet for a while too, leaving Nova to stew in her own curiosity. She hoped it wasn't another Unspoken, though Faellian would hardly sound so deranged over that unless it was Yddris, which she was sure wouldn't be the case. She'd seen Yddris fight. Magic or no magic, nobody would get under Yddris's guard.

But then who was it?

She backed away from the door as she heard footsteps in the corridor outside. Grace burst through the door. Her face was pale, and she was shaking. Her aura was coloured with fear.

"Eril's dead," she said.

Nova blinked. "What?"

"Eril's dead," Grace said again. "I don't know what's going on but it sounds really bad. The lord's steaming. I think he's going to summon you soon, so I brought this."

She held up a fresh shift and a warm robe Nova was certain she wasn't meant to have, but she couldn't concentrate on that. She tried to process what Grace had said. Faellian was yelling again, but had moved too far away for her to make out words.

"The guards found him with his throat cut on the privy behind the Orthanian temple," Grace said. She shook out the shift and gathered it up, gesturing at Nova to stand so it could go over her head. She did, automatically. The head of House Orthan couldn't be dead. He'd only just left the castle. "It's such a horrible way to go."

"Did they catch who did it?"

"I don't think so," Grace murmured. She wrapped the robe around Nova's shoulders, and then produced the key to her chain from an apron pocket.

"Where'd you get that?"

"Brillan." She handed Nova her chain. "He said the lord wouldn't wait long after summoning you before getting angry again, so you've got to be ready when he does."

Someone came to the door, a maid. It took Nova a minute to remember her as one who didn't like her, and curled her lip. The maid's expression made it clear the feeling was mutual.

"Lord Harkenn commands your presence in his study."

"I'm coming."

The maid narrowed her eyes at Grace. "And yours."

"M-me?" Grace said. "What does he need me for?"

The girl gave an insolent shrug and vanished. Nova and Grace looked at one another and then followed.

Shouting grew louder as they walked down the stairs and along the corridor to Faellian's closed study door. Grace stuck close to her, and Nova didn't mind for once; it felt like the floor had been taken out from underneath her. She had no great fondness for Shadow's Reach, but for better or worse she was stuck in it, and she'd rather be stuck in it without Ethred on the second most powerful seat in Nictaven.