Nightfire | The Whispering Wall #1

Fourteen: Market Day

Or perhaps he was just being a gullible idiot.

"Have fun, boys," Laurel said, standing up and tucking the tablets under her arm. She wore a cornflower blue frock that made her eyes shine. A funny lump stuck in Jordan's throat as he quickly averted his gaze from her tight bodice, found no relief in her pretty face, and finally settled on staring at the floor with a determination that made his eyes water.

"We will." Killian took Jordan firmly by the shoulder and steered him from the room. Once they were on the stairs, he leaned in and murmured, "You don't look like the type to try anything funny with her, so this is a warning for your sake." A grin split his face. "Once she gets comfortable with you, she can be a nightmare."

Jordan knew he had gone violently crimson straight away. Killian laughed, and it boomed down the stairwell. The murmur of voices from the taproom below quieted before picking up again.

"I'm messing with you," Killian said. His hand came down on Jordan's shoulder with a force that made him cough. "Come on."

"Are you bullying Jordan, Kil?" Laurel called from Jordan's room. "If you are, you'd better stop right now."

"Or what?" Killian called back. His grin hadn't faded.

"Just don't do it, you brute."

Jordan kept his head down as they passed the bar where Kedrick was wiping glasses with a rag. The bruise on his head was pounding with the rush of blood, producing flashes of light in one eye that made him nauseous. The cold air outside was a welcome reprieve from the stuffiness of the inn, but suddenly his once-stifling tunic wasn't enough.

Killian had brought Kedrick's wagon round to the front. The stable hand – a gruff man whom Jordan had already learned to avoid – was guarding the cart, glowering at passing civilians as they stepped off the bridge. When Jordan appeared, he grunted and shambled off, thrusting the horse's reins into his hands as he went. The animal snorted and stamped its feet.

"Me too, buddy," Jordan muttered.

He looked up at the sky. Despite it being mid-morning, it already looked grim. The clouds were heavy and dark, and a thin mist had seeped through the city overnight. Even so the mountains were still visible, vast and dark emerald on the far horizon. He shuddered as a crackle of faint static passed over his body.

"There's a blanket on the cart somewhere," Killian said, emerging from the inn with a waft of warm air following him out. Jordan turned, and realised he already couldn't feel his feet.

"Is-is it always this cold?" he asked through chattering teeth. He clambered onto the driver's box next to Killian, and the giant threw the blanket over his legs.

"We're getting into the dark season," Killian said. He snapped the reins, and chuckled when Jordan almost fell off the box in surprise. He raised his voice to be heard over the clatter of hooves on the bridge. "It'll get worse than this, I'm afraid."

Jordan felt queasy, rocking in the movement of the wagon. He kept his eyes on his knees instead of the river Aven boiling below them and tried to think of another question to keep himself distracted. Killian supplied one for him.

"You've been to the market, haven't you?"

Jordan laughed, but his stomach shrivelled at the memory. "Yes. I fell through someone's stall roof on my way here and got arrested there."

"Oh." Killian was quiet for a minute. "Well, hopefully this trip will be more enjoyable. I'll do all the talking; you can just pass me stock when I need it. Sound like a plan?"

"Sounds good to me." He breathed as the cart left the bridge. "So... Does Yddris live at the castle, then?"

"No," Killian replied. "He has a house on the street below it. Not that he uses it. I went there once and it didn't even have a bed."