Angelfire | The Whispering Wall #3

Thirty Two: Harsh Truths

"There's a witch man at the door."

Arlen looked up. Jesper stood beside the table, face uncharacteristically tight.

"You what?"

"There's a fucking witch man. At the door."

"It's Yddris, isn't it?"

His only answer was Jesper's lips thinning to invisibility. Arlen paused to take a breath before he said anything. He shouldn't have been surprised that Yddris had found out where he lived; in all his dealings with Calder's tutor, Yddris had been suspiciously familiar with the dead quarter. He certainly never seemed as afraid of it as anyone with a lick of sense should be.

His curiosity was useless, however, because Yddris would never tell him how he knew.

"Send him up."

Jesper's brows furrowed. "You're letting him in?"

"If he's standing outside that door asking for me, he already knows I'm here." Calder always seemed uncannily aware of who was in the house, and he was just an apprentice. "When did Usk say he was bringing Silas back?"

"Before dawn."

They had a few hours left before the snot descended upon them again, then. Usk had gone with Silas to retrieve his things from a previous hideout and bring them back here, as a pretence of protection. He didn't have to know that Arlen had ordered Usk in no uncertain terms to make it back here, even if he had to leave the kid in a fix to do it. Silas was not worth Usk, even if he wasn't lying.

"There's no point," Arlen growled, when Jesper still hesitated. "He'll kick my door in if you don't let him come up."

Jesper vanished down the stairs, and a minute later the Unspoken's boots sounded. He made no effort to be subtle. The air seemed to crackle around him, making the whole upper floor feel strangely claustrophobic.

"I suppose there's no point asking how you found the place," Arlen sneered. He didn't like being seated while Yddris was still standing, but he'd been in the middle of cleaning his prosthetic and wasn't about to let the witch man witness him struggle it back on.

"Followed the smell of unwashed criminal," Yddris said flatly.

"He bathes now. Sometimes." Darin chose that moment to emerge from Arlen's room, where he'd been bathing himself in the tin tub he'd insisted on bringing with him when he moved in. His hair was wet and he'd nicked himself shaving without a mirror, too prudish to do it in the main room where there was one, so his chin was dotted with harsh redness. "I know, it's shocking."

Yddris cocked his head. "You look familiar."

Darin's jaw set with an audible click. "I remember. How is he? I'm assuming this is something to do with your apprentice?"

"Shut your hole," Arlen growled. "No one asked you to be involved in this."

Darin gave him a look of pure contempt, which was all Arlen got from him these days. "Thought I'd get you past the pissing contest and to the actual fucking point. You're welcome."

He stalked past them and started obnoxiously getting out dishes and ingredients for the next meal.

Arlen forcibly returned his attention to Yddris. "Well? Is it?"

"Yes." The Unspoken clenched his fists; seemed to brace himself for something. "I need your help."

Arlen blinked, unable to formulate a snappish response through the surprise. He'd been certain Yddris would only have come here to make his point about keeping Calder out of anything dangerous for the hundredth time.