Angelfire | The Whispering Wall #3

Thirty Eight: Renegotiations

"What do you mean, you don't want to go?"

"I think I'd rather sit on a sword," Jordan muttered, "while it's upright."

Koen leaned back on the bed, as if a life-threatening mission into cannibal territory to judge the damage to a giant magical rock should have been the first thing on Jordan's bucket list.

"Why? You've never been to the South. I think you'd love it."

Jordan picked at a splinter on the edge of the desk, and glanced up as Ren squeaked. Astra sat cross-legged on his bedroom floor with the shadow-runner climbing all over her. She had been silent since arriving, and apparently intended to continue the trend.

A month or two ago, he probably would have jumped at the opportunity to escape the city. But he was fed up with being dragged into problems other people had caused; he had enough of his own. No matter how angry he was with Grace, he didn't want to be out of the city if anything went wrong. He wanted to know everything that happened as soon as it happened.

"If Yddris goes, I'll have to," he said.

"Cara said volunteers only." Astra spoke for the first time, her voice soft but firm. "She means that. If you don't want to go, no one will make you."

"I...can't go."

"That's different from don't want to," Koen said. "What's going on, Thorne? You've been a black cloud all day. Maybe we can help."

"You can't help." A chuckle escaped him, but there was no humour in it.

He wasn't sure where he'd even start to explain what his problems were; he was sure he had some even he didn't know about. He certainly didn't feel like explaining how he'd baited three Devils into a tavern room, stabbed two of them, and covered it up with a fake demon attack — if nothing else, Koen would never forgive him the way he'd ruined the warding on the window to make it convincing — and then spent three days holed up in the dead quarter with his assassin teacher, smoking himself into a numb fog. He hadn't questioned Arlen when the assassin had Usk turn the wagon around and take them back to the dead quarter. He couldn't find it in himself to care whether they'd come to a solution with Marcus and Callan. He'd just known that if he returned too soon, he would have broken down and told someone what he'd done, and god knew what would have happened then.

Worse, he feared that if he didn't remove himself from all the reminders of his sister and what had happened with Harkenn, he would do it again, just to let off his helpless anger. And he didn't want to be hauled up in Harkenn's study on assault charges. Arlen's current goodwill towards him would run out fast if that happened.

"That's not winning talk," Koen said reprovingly, and for a moment Jordan struggled to remember what they'd been talking about. He glanced down when he felt eyes on him, and met Astra's gaze. He felt certain she guessed more than she was saying. "You're telling me there's nothing we can do to at least make you feel better? Yddris and Nika have been avoiding each other like plague. It doesn't take a genius."

Jordan winced. Part of him was still furious with Yddris. Another part was worried that he might have caused Yddris's relationship with Nika to break down entirely, and he wasn't angry enough not to feel terrible about it. He knew Grace was the one who should have told him. It wasn't Yddris's job to be their go-between and the Unspoken didn't owe it to him, either. He just couldn't deny the sting of knowing that Yddris could have warned him early enough to prevent this, and hadn't.

Still, he knew how much Nika meant to Yddris better than even Nika did, and there was no way to feel good about this situation.

"I don't know." Jordan shrugged. "I'm struggling to think, to be honest." He frowned and glanced at Astra. "Are you going on this expedition?"