Angelfire | The Whispering Wall #3

Eight: An Idea

"Where did you say this happened?"

Jordan flinched as Nika's fingers pressed at the sore patch on the back of his head where he'd hit it falling over. His body hitting the floor had been what gave their whole group away during the theft; by the time he'd realised it was going to happen, he had no time to tell Jesper or to catch himself.

"I...didn't. Ow."

Nika stepped back with a sigh. "Nothing's broken."

"Apart from my brain," Jordan muttered, probing the wound himself and wincing. Ren whimpered in his lap and touched a cold nose to his chin.

"It's not broken," Nika said. Jordan scowled at him, and he amended, "It needs a solution, yes, but you're not broken, Thorne."

"Hm." He was too tired to argue, even though he couldn't have disagreed more. This issue had cost him the best part of a job, and while he wasn't all that upset not to have stolen as much from the estate as they'd planned to, Arlen was. The assassin's disappointment was far worse than his own would have been.

He'd not come round until they were in the carriage, driving away. From what he'd surmised from Akiva, who was as chatty as ever but hadn't seen most of what happened, Usk had carried him out, but not before they'd had to deal with two hunting hounds that had cornered them upstairs. Any detail there might have been was hidden behind Arlen's scowl. When they got back to the house, Arlen had gone into his private room and closed the door.

"What happened?" Darin had said. A butcher knife and a bottle of wine had been sitting on the table in front of him, but it didn't look as though he'd touched either. He'd just looked relieved that they were back.

"I fucked it," Jordan had grumbled.

Darin had been a sympathetic ear, at least, and the others at least outwardly didn't seem to mind. He'd caught Usk looking between him and the closed door, as if hoping Jordan would go in and start making reparation, but he'd risk doing that when the Pit froze over. He found it hard enough being comfortable around Arlen when he was happy with Jordan's progress. He was a man it was impossible to get very close to; the aura around him always exuded his hatred for the world and everyone in it.

"I hate the idea that this happens when you're not safe here," Nika said, drawing Jordan from his scowling reverie. It was the closest they'd come to talking about his Devil involvement for weeks.

"I still don't have a choice," he said.

"Perhaps you should try seeing another physician for a second opinion."

"I'm not sure many second opinions would be more qualified than yours."

Nika chuckled, but it was tired. "I'm not infallible, Thorne. Someone else might think of an angle that I haven't even looked at yet. I'll ask around and see if I can find someone likely."

"I just...how did he even do it?" Jordan burst out. Nika didn't startle, only began chopping vegetables for the stew pot. "He's dead! How can he still be causing me problems?"

And how come Arlen got away with it, he also wanted to ask, but didn't think it would be well-received.

"Magic works in strange ways, Thorne." The knife fell rhythmically. "Especially Caelumese magic, which is a different breed to ours. I can make educated guesses, but no more than that." He scraped the vegetables into the pot, and a green flame started under it with a soft whoosh. "It's hard to say whether Cael's death caused this problem, or whether it was intentional on his part to sabotage you in the long term. A man who could manipulate Harkenn that way would have been perfectly capable of doing real damage to those without as much resistance. Your Gift should have protected you, but it can only do so if you aren't already in a bad way. Otherwise it's a direct channel into your magic, and from there he could have set anything awry. Much as I hate to say it, I'm not certain your solution lies in any herbs or medicines I know of."