Angelfire | The Whispering Wall #3

Twenty Seven: Aftershocks

Nova flinched as the aftershocks hit, knees still unsteady from the movements rumbling under her feet. All around the square she saw Unspoken stagger at the shock, more than a few collapsing to the cobbles among crowds of bewildered onlookers. At her feet Thorne had gone limp and Yddris was on his knees, holding his apprentice's head so it didn't jolt against the ground as the rumbling died away. Beside the two of them, Thorne's pet sat and growled, fur on end as she pawed at Thorne's cloak sleeve.

"Oh God." Someone burst through the wall of people surrounding them as Nova took an uncertain step forward. Grace fell to her knees beside Thorne, breath coming in harsh gasps. "Is he alright? Are you alright?"

Nova squinted against a burgeoning headache as she knelt down and felt for Thorne's pulse. She felt Grace's gaze switch to her, heavier than the pressure building in her temples, but didn't look up.

"I have...been better," Yddris groaned.

"What do I need to do?" Grace said, sounding determined even through the thickness of building tears. "What happened?"

"Whispering Wall having a fit, probably." Yddris groaned again, starting to shift and stretch. "I need to find Nika. And I need to make sure the retireds are alright. Can I leave him with you?"

"He'll be fine?"

"He might vomit when he wakes up. Make sure he doesn't choke." With a grunt, Yddris manoeuvred Thorne into Grace's lap. Her hands fluttered over him, clearly unsure. "If he has a seizure, pillow his head and send someone to find me."

"I'll come and get you if he does," Nova said. She sensed both of them looking at her. She glanced over her shoulder to avoid their gazes, and spotted another familiar figure. "Oh."

Jeorge was slumped over a crate against the wall of the nearest building, clearly unconscious. She frowned and stood up, brushing off the knees of her skirt. He wasn't far away, and while it was tempting to leave him lying there, it wasn't really fair of her. He stirred as she approached, a gloved hand twitching and the cloak moving strangely as his wings struggled to move.

She nudged his boot with her foot. His aura flickered with a fog of confusion and pain.

"Alive again?" she asked. His focus sharpened and he turned on the crate to stare at her.

"Still yes." He groaned as he sat up. "Still a disappointment, I know." He looked around at the milling crowd, a murmur of mingled confusion and panic slowly building in volume. "I feel like I've been hit over the head with a mallet."

"Stop moving your wings," she said. "Someone will notice."

"But other than that, yes, I'm alright, thanks for asking," Jeorge returned tartly, but his wings fell still behind him.

"Are you in a position to help?" she asked, gesturing behind her. Grace still knelt on the cobbles with Thorne's head in her lap and Ren had moved to her shoulder, brush tail flicking with agitation.

Jeorge sighed. "I'll fall over if I stand up now. I'll be over in just a minute." As she turned on her heel, he said, "That was the Wall, wasn't it?"

"I suppose it must have been." She frowned. She didn't feel it the way the Unspoken did, but the sudden release of that much tension in the ambient magic was going to have an effect either way. There was already a headache building behind her eyes. "Didn't you get any warning?"

"I just thought the current was being especially loud and annoying to compliment the terrible day I'm having." He eased himself upright. "I don't know why you're looking at me like I should have known better than any of the Unspoken."