Nightsworn | The Whispering Wall #2

Twenty Six: Departure

"You've got enough socks and underwear?"

"Yes."

"Plus extras? And a jacket?"

"Yes."

"And plenty of blankets?"

"Grace." Jordan put his hands on his sister's shoulders and she stopped gabbling, staring up at him wide-eyed and slightly fearful. He could already feel his resolve slipping, but he knew he had to go. He just hated leaving her here. The mad thought occurred to him to sneak her out, but he knew she wouldn't go along with it, or even if she did, he wouldn't get away with it. "Yes. I've got everything. If you don't believe me, Nika checked all my stuff twice this morning."

She relaxed, and Jordan rolled his eyes.

"I can function like a human sometimes, you know," he said, pulling her into a hug. He hadn't brought up their conversation from a couple of nights before and neither had she. After the previous evening, he had found the words didn't sting as much as they had before when he considered that she at least had no idea about the Devils. The tattoo between his shoulder blades burned at the memory. He had had to try every evasion tactic in his arsenal that morning to make sure Nika didn't see it, as the Unspoken had insisted he try all his new clothes on before he left to make sure there were no last-minute trips to the tailor needed. It was far easier said than done with a bandage strapped around it.

"Barely," she mumbled into his chest. "I don't want you to go, Joe."

"I'll send you a letter with the first trip that comes back here," he said. "Yddris said there are caravans going back and forth all the time. I'll send one with every caravan going until I get back, alright?"

She sniffed and gave a watery smile. She stuck out her little finger. "Promise."

He hooked his little finger around hers. "I promise. As long as you send some back."

"Deal."

Movement over her shoulder drew his eye, just as Nova appeared on the stairs in her usual quiet, wraith-like way. He found her gaze as disconcerting as ever, but nonetheless made his way over. A quirk of the eyebrow was the angel's only sign that she was surprised.

"You'll keep her out of trouble, right?" he asked. He held out a hand and, hesitantly, she grasped his elbow in return, looking all the while like she expected it to be a trap.

"You don't ask for small favours, do you?" Nova replied. Beside Jordan, Grace spluttered her indignation.

"I don't need you to keep me out of trouble. It's usually the other way round!"

"I respectfully disagree," Nova retorted, even as her gaze met Jordan's again. His chest eased. She knew what he meant, even if it had gone straight over his sister's head.

A cold wind blew through the open front doors of the castle. Beyond them lay the wagon of the merchant they were escorting across the Barrens, loaded with goods and their bags and driven by an old nag and a young mare that didn't seem to get along. The merchant had offered to put them in touch with someone to hire horses from, but Yddris had categorically refused; both to contact the stables and to elaborate on why. Jordan could only conclude that it meant he had a very long walk ahead of him.

The merchant himself was short, stocky, and generally good-humoured. His son was travelling with him, a wiry kid of maybe thirteen who was threatening to spend the entire trip hiding inside the wagon. Jordan couldn't shake the feeling that Yddris had something to do with it, since he had spotted Nika giving him a thorough shaking-down after the two had met.

"I'll be back in a second," he said, since Grace and Nova had engaged in one of their hushed private conversations.

He made his way over to Nika, who stood a respectful distance away as Yddris discussed something with Lord Harkenn. He hadn't noticed the lord come downstairs and considered going back to warn Grace, but then he realised that Nova must have already known Harkenn was here. Indeed it didn't look like the lord would be paying much attention anyway; he had a scowl like thunder and was arguing very intensely about something.