Nightfire | The Whispering Wall #1

Four: Demon Catcher

Jordan stared, and felt the man's gaze on him in return. He had so many questions, but wasn't sure which to ask first, or which ones Yddris would answer, if any.

"My first question, if I were in your position," Yddris said, as if he had read Jordan's thoughts, "would be 'where the fuck am I?' followed in short order by 'what the fuck happens now'." He reached inside his cloak and produced a clay pipe and a small pouch of tobacco. His heavy gaze was still on Jordan as he stuffed it.

"Okay." Jordan blinked. "Where the fuck am I?"

"Good question," Yddris said, pointing the pipe at him, "I like your thinking. The simple answer is that you're in a small cell that smells of arse in the bowels of Lord Harkenn's castle. But you knew that already." He stuck the pipe in his mouth and covered it with one hand. When he took it away again, a thin plume of smoke drifted into the air. "The less simple answer is that you fell through a portal, which I suppose you also worked out by now, and that it has dumped you in Nictaven."

"And where is Nictaven?"

Yddris spread his arms. "This place. This world. Whatever you want to call it."

"You mean we aren't even on earth anymore?" Grace blurted. Yddris seemed to notice that she was there for the first time. She shuddered as Yddris looked at her, and Jordan tightened his arm around her shoulder. She reached up and clasped his hand with icy fingers.

"Earth." Yddris puffed on his pipe for a moment. "I've heard of that one. Not for a while, mind." Another puff. "No, you're not."

Jordan frowned. Grace slumped next to him, but he almost heard her brain working at it.

"Did you truly believe yours was the only world out there?" Yddris said. He stood right up against the bars, and Jordan could smell his pipe smoke; not ordinary tobacco. It was thick and musty and made him feel a little funny.

"I guess not," he said. He paused. "How many are there?"

"Countless." Yddris shrugged. "I'd be surprised if anyone could tell you."

Jordan reached out and grabbed onto a bar. It was cold and hard in his grip, and fully solid. When he pinched himself, it hurt.

"Work it out later," Yddris said. He had gone back to staring at Jordan, and it was getting to be more than unsettling. "You've got a trial to worry about now."

Shit. He had forgotten entirely about the trial in the chaos of their arrest, but he remembered the Lord's words with painful clarity and felt a stirring in his gut. He had never been to court. Whether they really had landed in another world, or in a remote location on earth where everyone was convinced that it was all real – neither sounded particularly plausible, and yet here they were – court was something he'd rather have avoided.

And then there was the monster to factor in.

"Just came to give you a few pointers," Yddris continued. "Don't know how courts work in your world, but it's probably not like this. The heads of the religious Houses will make the ruling. The Assembly comes from all over. House of Orthan will want you dead."

"What?" Jordan almost choked. "Why?"

"They want everybody who isn't Orthanian dead. It's the others you need to sway. Kiel are the biggest, Varthi won't be present, and Nict are unpredictable bastards. The Unspoken collective will vote for your release, so don't worry about them."

"You sound sure." Grace trembled under Jordan's arm, but set her jaw and narrowed her eyes at the hooded man.

"At such short notice, the Unspoken will probably only have one speaker present," Yddris said, "And that's me. So yes, I can afford to be fairly certain."