Angelfire | The Whispering Wall #3

Sixty Seven: Captured

Jeorge wished his day had stayed as boring as it had started off.

He'd woken, as usual, with a throbbing headache. As usual, Hap had made his appearance not long after that, and, as usual, had been far too cheerful for Jeorge's liking, considering how much pain he was in and how little he felt like making another fruitless attempt at manifestation. But try he had, with just as little to show for it as there ever was, and it was after that that everything had started to go wrong.

Nothing ever went well when he decided to do things differently. He'd felt so wretched and unwilling to sit through hours of listening to Harkenn grumble about politics that he'd requested permission to go for a walk to clear his head. He hadn't intended to go far. He never strayed far from the castle these days, not after he'd almost had his block knocked off at a pub for the audacity of having wings. The Unspoken cloak had saved him from a repeat, but it only made people wary of him for different reasons, and that was currently working against him.

He turned another tight corner into a busy street. Almost immediately the crowds managed to give him space to manoeuvre, despite the close quarters. On the bright side, he didn't have to squeeze through. On the downside, he was having a dark-damned time of it losing his pursuers. He hadn't sensed these strange, bright auras for months, not since he'd been injured by one of the weapons that carried them, that had started off all this nonsense with Nictavian magic he shouldn't have had. He didn't think it was coincidence that it was also the first time in weeks he'd strayed out alone.

He only vaguely knew where he was. He had managed to keep the castle in view, and was trying to find a way back to it that might lead him into the path of some guards or lose his pursuers in the chaos.

Why did I not stay in bed?

The street cleared. He stumbled out onto a broad avenue and kept going, despite the burning in his calves and his laboured breathing. He wouldn't be able to keep it up for long, not with all the time he'd spent debilitated.

The air had the first bite of cold in it from the approaching change in season, and it sawed in his lungs. Hap had said only that morning that the Gift was supposed to help keep him warm, but even that small benefit had yet to show up. It was like Nictaven was mocking him, and it didn't help that sometimes the incessant noise in his head sounded like laughter. As he forced his aching legs and lungs to push harder, he thought of that night in the inn, the explosion of pain and noise in his head as that blade had embedded in his arm. As his panic spiked, he sensed rather than saw that those fickle, useless flames had sprung up over his hands again. People got out of his way faster, but that wasn't helping him when his whole body threatened mutiny.

His wings ached inside the confines of his cloak. What he wouldn't have given to be able to throw it off, to spread his wings and fly straight back to the castle. But it had been months since he'd flown and he suspected his muscles had atrophied; even if they hadn't, he wasn't convinced someone wouldn't shoot him out of the sky. Knowing his luck, he'd take a bolt through the shoulder and get carried off by a Marrowhawk.

"The castle?" he gasped at a stallholder as he passed, realising that he'd lost his view of it. "Is it this way?"

The man blinked, as if it was completely bizarre for an Unspoken to ask directions. Jeorge supposed it probably was. "Shortcut down there will take you straight to the main ride," he said, pointing to a narrow alleyway not far from his stall.

Jeorge eyed it as he cast around for his pursuer again. They'd stopped when he had. They were close, and he had no interest whatsoever in receiving any blade of any kind in any body part that day.

"Thank you," he gasped, and forced his shaking legs into a jog. He would be glad when he got back, even if he did have to spend the next couple of hours staring at Harkenn's sour face after he heard about this.