Nightfire | The Whispering Wall #1

Forty Six: A Secret

Jordan blinked. He hadn't realised the two were ever separate. "Is it hard?"

"Mastering the basic principles of magic is the hardest thing you'll ever do."

"Oh."

"It's all much easier from there."

"Oh."

Yddris snorted, and then cuffed him on the shoulder. "Come out and sit with the rest of us, you've done enough for today."

Jordan got up, holding his hand out for Ren to clamber up his arm and onto his shoulder. She squeaked at him, and he pulled out his knife to cut the twine so she could take a length with her. It was a relief to get away from the desk, but he was apprehensive, not just because he barely knew anyone in the house, but because they all knew he was heading to the Nict temple that afternoon. No one had said anything about the temple, reassuring or otherwise, but the silences in the conversation about it had seemed ominous.

The front room looked like a grim reapers' coffee morning. The Unspoken were ranged around the room. Yddris had found stools in the cellar, though there were still a few people who had to sit on cushions on the floor. There were eight Unspoken, not including Yddris or Jordan, and the air was almost humming with the concentration of magic.

Koen was present, as was Astra, the only female apprentice, but they were the only two Jordan could identify on sight. The namekeeper Ortin was staying with them, as was Astra's tutor, and two others Jordan knew nothing about. He went to sit with Koen. Astra shifted as he sat down next to her; Oloe had been mute, but Astra just chose not to talk to him. So far it hadn't bothered him too much, only he was sure it would eventually cause problems now she was staying over. Koen said it was because he was otherworld, and Jordan was quite content to leave it there as long as she didn't ask him to bless anything.

One Unspoken, whom Jordan guessed was most likely Nika, was stirring a vast pot of stew over the fire. Several of their guests had brought contributions of food; sacks of vegetables, fresh bread and grains. Yddris had it all stacked in the corner. It was quiet in the room, but Jordan couldn't shake the strange feeling that there was some kind of interaction going on that he was missing.

He reached up to pet Ren, but removed his fingers when they were mistaken for extra playthings. She'd been in an antsy mood all day. He couldn't help but think that she was pissed at him, too, for leaving her for almost two days.

"So," said one of the Unspoken Jordan didn't know. He had a feeling the man was looking at him, but couldn't be certain. With a sinking sensation in his gut he realised that was probably what things were going to be like until all these strangers left. "Still early enough not to have a name yet?"

Jordan swallowed, and then nodded, not knowing what to say. He'd been reassured multiple times that he wouldn't have to take a new one, but he had worked out by now that it was expected. He suppressed a shudder. It felt like he was being slowly eroded; first he was forbidden from showing his face in public, and now he was expected to discard his name.

He looked over to the window and found Yddris watching him. The glass pane was cracked open, and the man had lit a pipe, but he wasn't smoking. For once Jordan wished he was adept enough at magic to guess how his tutor was feeling. He found it hard to believe he'd been forgiven just like that.

"I suppose you won't know any of the old Nictavian stories," the stranger said. His voice suggested he was older. "Or I would say you could take inspiration from those."

Nika, who was at the cooking pot, said, "We'll work something out."

"Can you read Nictavian?" the older man pressed.