Angelfire | The Whispering Wall #3

Sixty Eight: An Encounter

Jordan dabbed blood from the cut on his neck, hissing through his teeth. He'd opened it back up during training, just as he'd started to think he'd got away with not having to tell Nika.

He tucked a scarf around it, praying it would staunch the bleeding, and crept out of his tent. Travelling had felt that much more like he was being hunted since Marick's thug had cornered him behind the wagon the other night, accusing him of stealing one of their daggers. He hadn't had a chance to talk to Silas or Akiva to determine whether one of them was responsible, and he didn't dare talk about it in the open. They still had no idea how many agents Marick had planted in the party, unless Silas had been successful in the interim. He hadn't been optimistic when they last spoke.

"I think they sleep in shifts," the boy had muttered. "Whenever I get close to the guy we know for sure is one of Marick's, there always seems to be someone fucking watching."

Jordan was too grateful Silas was bothering at all to respond with anything more than an encouragement to keep trying if he could.

But he wanted answers sooner rather than later. If they didn't find out who the agents were before Grace started showing signs that she was pregnant, he was in for a world of trouble, even with Yddris and Nova watching her at all hours. The Devils didn't need to physically hurt her if they worked out whose baby she carried. That information could set half the world chasing after her.

He gathered all his limited courage for the day and went to find Nika. He hovered for a bit while the Unspoken finished treating a soldier's blisters, then slipped behind the screen and sat down.

"That didn't look fun," he said, as Nika scrubbed his hands off in a bowl of water.

"I know you're supposed to be impartial as a physician," Nika replied. "But I've never quite got over an aversion to badly kept feet." He turned, and fixed Jordan with a critical eye. "What do you need? I almost dread to ask."

Jordan tried his best to look apologetic. He'd spent the past year needing to be treated for various injuries and illnesses, and he'd probably spent more time in bandages than he had out of them. He couldn't blame Nika for the wary tone.

"I just need a bit of wound dressing. It's not big, I can do it myself."

Nika sighed. "Just show me."

"Really, it's not a big deal."

"Thorne."

Jordan tried to stare him out. And failed. He scowled as he pulled off his scarf, which was already sticky. "Playing the concerned guardian card isn't fair, you know."

"I am a concerned guardian, Thorne. You are constantly getting yourself into...is this a knife wound?"

"Er...no?"

Nika glared at him. "Thorne."

Jordan winced. "It's just a surface wound. They weren't actually going to do it."

For a moment, the man seemed genuinely lost for words. Then he stalked from behind the screen with a hissed "Stay right there."

Jordan idly dabbed at the wound, already regretting this visit. When Nika returned, he was trailing a reluctant-looking Yddris behind him.

"Show him," the Unspoken demanded. With a great deal of reluctance, Jordan pushed his hood back and tipped up his chin to show his tutor the bleeding line across his throat. Nika crossed his arms. "You told me he would be safe, Yddris."

Yddris had frozen with his pipe partway to his mouth. "You let me spar with you this morning, boy. And that was there the whole time?"

"It's not deep," Jordan protested. "It's just a bit...weepy. I can handle it. They were just pissed because they thought I stole something."