Chapter 4 Chapter 4

Kaelen opened his eyes and didn't know where he was.

Low ceiling with brown stains. Light coming through a dirty window. He just lay there blinking at it.

"Where am I?"

It came out rough and dry. He tried to sit up and the pain cracked behind his eyes so fast he grabbed his head with both hands and held on.

"Ahhh. Ahhhoch. Stop. Stop."

The room was spinning. He lay back down and breathed. His heart was going hard. His stomach felt bad.

After a while it stopped spinning. He looked around. Small room. One chair. Empty washbasin. His coat on a hook by the door. Bread smell coming up from somewhere below him.

"You're alive. That's something." He muttered.

He tried again but slower. Pushed himself up and got his legs over the side of the bed. The room moved but he held the edge and sat there and waited.

His head pounding. Whole body hurting the way it does when something bad happened to it. His hands were shaking when he held them up.

"What happened to you?" He asked himself surprisingly.

Three knocks on the door.

His hand went to his belt. The knife was gone. He looked around but there was nothing close. He got up quickly so he could possibly defend himself if it was an ambush.

The door opened.

An old woman with grey hair walked inside. Flour on her apron. Eyes that took things in and gave nothing back.

"You're awake then, huh." She said smiling.

"Who are you."

She came in and put a small tray on the chair. Bread and a cup. "Marta. I run the bakery downstairs. This is my building. You've been up here two days."

"Two days." He exclaimed.

"Yea. Two days. You paid for a week so I left you alone. But you didn't move or eat or make a sound and I thought maybe you'd died in here or something." She nodded at the tray. "Eat. You look terrible."

Kaelen looked at the bread. His stomach didn't want it but the rest of him knew better. He picked up a piece and took a bite off a small corner.

Chewing hurt. Swallowing hurt more.

Marta stood there watching him. "You got a name?"

He shook his head. "No."

She nodded like that was fine. "Didn't think so. People in this building mostly don't. Just room numbers." She pointed at the cup. "Drink."

He took a deep breath and drank. Cool water. It helped. He finished it and put the cup back.

"You need anything, come find me downstairs. No trouble in my building though. You hear me?"

"I hear you."

She looked at him a long moment. "There are men asking around. Down near the docks and the tanneries. Looking for someone in a grey coat." She left it there. "You know anything about that."

Kaelen didn't move. "No."

"Didn't think so." She turned and stopped at the door. "Whatever you're into boy, be careful. This city doesn't think twice about people like you." Then she was gone and the door clicked shut.

He sat there a while after finishing the bread. Found a pitcher on the floor and drank from it. Head still pounding but lesser now. His stomach settled.

He got himself up and made it to the window holding the wall. Grabbed the sill and looked down. People walking. A cart going by. A woman shouting at a kid somewhere. Normal city. Nobody looking up.

"Two days. You lost two whole days."

He thought about the alley. The echo grabbing him. What he pushed into Bracks and then just going down like his legs quit without telling him. He couldn't keep doing that. If he dropped every time he used it he'd be dead before he got near any of the three names.

"You need to get this under control. Get stronger."

He sat back on the bed and pressed his fingers to his temples.

Then he felt it. Faint. From the wall right behind him.

He turned and looked at it in quick motion. Old plaster. Cracks going every direction. Nothing to see. He squinted his eyes to see clearly. He didn't see anything. He began to walk closer.

He touched the wall with his hand and began to move his hand round the wall.

He closed his eyes and reached for it slow. The way you put your hand into somewhere dark when you're not sure what's in it.

Faint. A woman crying. Not loud. Just soft, sitting deep in the wall. Old. Years old. Someone who slept in this room once and was very sad here.

He opened his eyes. "You're still here?"

He reached again but this time he didn't pull at it. He just let it sit. The sadness came into his chest but it was light. Nothing like the alley. Not that cold heavy thing. Just a quiet weight.

He held it for a few seconds and let it go.

His head didn't pound. His stomach stayed where it was. He just sat there breathing normal.

"That's it. That's how it should feel."

He got up and went to the other wall. Put his palm flat against it. Closed his eyes and listened.

A man shouting about money. Old anger in the plaster. Kaelen reached for it slow, let it come up into his chest, felt the heat of it. Held it. Let it go.

His head ached a little. Just a little.

He spent the rest of that day going around the room like that. Walls, floor, ceiling. Sad ones and angry ones and tired ones. He reached for each one slow and let it come and then let it go. Over and over.

By the time the light went grey outside his head hurt but it was the kind you can breathe through. Still on his feet. Not on the ground. Not bleeding or sick.

He sat on the bed and looked at his hands. "You can do this. Just don't rush it."

Three knocks.

"Who is it."

"Me." Marta through the door. "You still in one piece."

"I'm in one piece."

She came in with another tray. Bread and cheese and soup this time. She set it on the chair and looked at him. "You look better. Less like a dead man."

"I feel better."

"Good." She stood there with her hands together. "Those men I mentioned. Still asking around. They've got a name now for whoever they're after. The Greyman." She watched his face when she said it. "Mean anything to you?"

"No."

"Right." She moved for the door and stopped. "Whoever this Greyman is, he's got Vane's people scared. That doesn't happen easy in this city." Then she left.

Kaelen looked at the food. He picked up the bread and ate.

After he was done he sat in the dark and thought. Bracks had talked. The story was moving. Vane's people were scared. That was what he wanted.

But he wasn't ready for what came next. He needed more time with this.

He got up and went back to the wall. Hand flat on it. Eyes shut.

Stronger this time. A man crying. The deep kind. Kaelen let it come and counted. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Let it go.

Head pounded but he stayed on his feet.

"Better."

Next wall. Another echo. Held it. Let it go.

Legs shook but he didn't go down.

"Better."

He kept going until his body gave out. Then he got on the bed and lay there. Everything ached but it was the right kind.

"Tomorrow do more. Keep going till you're ready."

He closed his eyes. No dreams. Just dark and sleep.

When he woke up the sun was already in the room and Marta was knocking.

She came in and put the tray down. "Still here. Most people when trouble finds them they run."

Kaelen sat up. Head clear. Body felt more like his. "I'm not most people."

She looked at him. "No. I don't think you are." She pointed at the food. "Eat. Long day ahead."

"How do you know what kind of day I've got."

"I don't," she said. "But I know that look. Saw it on men in the war. Men who had something to finish and nothing was going to stop them." She went to the door. "Just stay alive long enough to finish it." Gone.

He ate. Then got up and went to the wall and started again.

That was the whole week. Wall to wall. Stopping when Marta brought food up. Sleeping when his body made him. Getting up and doing it again.

By the end he could hold an echo close to a minute without going down. Head hurt after but quiet and dull. Not that sharp cracking pain from before. Not hitting the floor. Not being sick.

He sat one evening and held both hands out in front of him. Steady.

"You're getting there."

Marta came in with dinner and looked at him standing there. "Something's different."

"I've been working."

"I can see." She put the tray down. "Those men stopped asking around. Something's got them busy over at Flint's Den. Heard the word haunting going around." She watched him the way she always did. "Suppose you don't know anything about that."

He said nothing.

A small smile held on her face. Just a little one. "Didn't think so." She left.

He ate and thought about Flint's Den. Vane's place. There was an echo sitting in those floorboards. A man named Erl. Killed there for knowing too much about the wrong people. That echo had been waiting a long time.

He wasn't ready for it yet. But close.

He stood up and went to the wall. Hand on the plaster. Eyes shut.

"One more."

He reached. Let it come. Counted to sixty. Let it go.

Head hurt. Still standing.

"Tomorrow you go further. Find where they're soft."

He lay on the bed. The city was outside doing what it always does at night. Vane out there somewhere. Alden. Crest. All three of them sleeping fine and living their lives without a thought about a boy they left under a kitchen floor ten years ago.

"I'm coming. All three of you."

He closed his eyes and slept.