Nightfire | The Whispering Wall #1

Sixty Five: Messages

Yddris's house was a hive of activity, and Jordan had never felt so alone.

Since Kolter's death, Yddris's house had become the place to return to after patrols to exchange news, sightings, and affirm that everyone was still alright. The atmosphere was deadly serious, but the sense of community was stronger than Jordan had ever seen, and he felt like a complete outsider. He wondered if he'd feel like this for the rest of his life now, because the thought of seeking out Grace was almost a daunting as trying to join in with the Unspoken.

He'd considered asking if he could go to the Demon's Brew to see Laurel – the Hallow Festival felt like a lifetime ago, and she never expected him to explain himself more than he wanted to – but even that was a terrifying prospect, as if she could work out what was weighing him down if she looked at him long enough. Besides, she'd been tangled up in this business far too much already. He'd hate himself even more if something happened to her that he could have prevented by staying away.

"Being an antisocial turd isn't going to help anyone, boy."

Yddris appeared in the doorway to his bedroom, where Jordan had sequestered himself since they returned from the castle the previous evening.

"I feel like I made the wrong choice," Jordan said. In his lap, Ren chirruped and rolled over, allowing him to rub her belly. She had lain beside him all night, even though he must have annoyed her with all his nightmares and sweating and bouts of crying. "But I also feel like I made the right choice."

"You made a choice," Yddris said shortly. "It's been made, past tense. And people will be less inclined to mind their own business if you start acting like a mopey bitch for no apparent reason."

"Not a mopey bitch," Jordan muttered, but conceded the point. The last thing he wanted was to get cornered by Nika again. He didn't trust himself to hold it in this time.

"Anyway, speaking of social," Yddris said, "You're coming to the tavern tonight. I signed you up already."

"Why are we going to the tavern?" Jordan couldn't think of anything he wanted to do less, and then remembered there would be booze. He could do with a few drinks, to get some sleep if nothing else.

"Because Koen just received his acceptance for graduation," Yddris said. "And it's about as close to a cause for celebration as demon hunters ever get. He'll be returning to the Guildtown at the start of the light season to take the black. Seems like a good opportunity for you to see it, too."

"He's...done with his apprenticeship?"

"Aye. He'll stay with Hap for another year or two, in all likelihood, but he can take jobs for himself, charge his own rates, so on, so forth."

"I didn't realise he was so far ahead."

"If anything, he should have received that letter weeks ago," Yddris said. "Don't look so put out, boy, the only practical difference as far as you're concerned is a change of clothes."

"What about Oloe?" Jordan asked, skirting around the question of Astra, though he was now terrified he'd be left as the only apprentice in the guild before long. He felt incompetent enough as it was.

"He's only a year or so ahead of you. Don't worry, boy, there'll still be three of you for a good while yet, I should think."

"I guess I should go and say something," Jordan said. He couldn't help feeling sullen, and he knew it was unfair – but Koen had gone his whole apprenticeship without the lord of the city and the king of the criminal underworld playing tug of war with him in the middle, and an uncharitable part of Jordan resented him for it.