An inflamed bruise marred one side of Codder’s face. His skin was pallid.

He stood on the threshold, his usually open mouth clamped shut. No cigarette. Just a pale and serious soldier in his grey uniform and with rigid shoulders. His usually mud-crusted boots were polished to a high shine.

Gray stiffened at the sight of him and determinedly turned his gaze down to his oats.

Gray could feel Codder’s shadowed gaze darting between him and Killian. He was taking in Gray’s cut hair. He was taking in the room. The sweat on Gray’s skin, the twitching muscle in Killian’s jaw.

He would be feeling the stifling pressure in the air from the magic.

‘Major,’ said Codder.

Codder’s voice had none of its previous cockiness. His drawl was cold and guarded.

‘Codder, good to see you up …’

Gray waited for Killian to acknowledge why Codder had been bedridden.

They watched each other, unsmiling and professional.

‘We’ve got some news, Major,’ Codder said.

The Ralphs, thought Gray, a jolt running through him. They’re here.

‘The fire mage Emeric,’ said Codder, ‘he sent word again, and he’s adamant the jar was stolen before he left Krydon. He’s requested to speak with Longwark -’

‘No,’ said Killian. ‘In no uncertain terms is he to make contact with Longwark. You make that clear to him.’

‘I’ll write to him right away, Major.’

Codder turned.

Killian squared his shoulders and clicked his fingers sharply at Codder. ‘Wait, soldier. I wanted to speak with you.’

Gray’s heart hammered in his chest. He did not want to witness any kind of dressing down that Killian might serve Codder. Codder was dangerous enough towards Gray already. Gray didn’t want to give him any more motivation to hate him, just as Gray needed Killian to forget he’d just thrown the equivalent of a magic fit.

‘Your room,’ said Killian, ‘it’s been handed over to the princess and the Lieutenant General. They’re not there at the moment, but under no circumstances are you to touch their possessions or go into that room. I’ve had your things put in with the other men.’

‘Uh,’ said Codder, ‘what was that, Major?’

‘You heard me.’

Codder sucked his teeth with his tongue. ‘Is this retribution for touching your golden boy, Major?’

Gray’s skin crawled. He dared a glance at Killian.

Killian’s hand was white-knuckled on the table.

‘You’re referring to our prisoner, Codder?’ said Killian. His tone was almost disinterested.

Codder inched forward. ‘Did he tell you what he said to me?’

Killian examined Codder for an uncomfortably long time. Codder shifted, his shadowed gaze dropping.

‘I know what he said,’ said Killian.

‘So, he’s being disciplined, then?’

Killian tilted his head, his gaze dragging up and down over Codder. ‘I didn’t realise you were a schoolboy who tattled on his bullies, Codder.’

Codder flushed an ugly red, sucking his bottom lip.

‘I thought,’ said Killian, returning to his breakfast, ‘you were the best man in my division, on the cusp of being promoted to lieutenant.’

Every line in Codder’s flushed face was tense. ‘Major …’

‘If you can’t handle a single boy, how do you hope to handle thirty men?’

‘I was handling it-’

‘When I found you, you’d incited the other prisoners to a riot. They smashed a door, which I’ve had to replace at a cost to the crown. I handled it.’

Codder refused to meet Killian’s gaze. His chest was rising rapidly.

‘Don’t make me lose my respect for you again,’ said Killian.

Codder gave Killian a restrained nod. He turned stiffly on his heel.

‘Codder?’

Codder froze on the threshold, casting an inscrutable look back.

‘The next exam for lieutenant is in one month,’ said Killian. ‘They just set the date. I’ll go over some exam prep with you this morning. Get you ready.’

‘Uh,’ said Codder, stepping haltingly back into the room. ‘ … Yes, Major.’

‘You master certain aspects of yourself, you’ll be formidable.’

Codder flashed Killian a half smile. A glimmer of his former cockiness returned. ‘Sure thing, Major.’

‘Go and fetch Pickering, Emwell, Brown, Mayver and Johnson. Meet me in the Captain’s office. We’ll spend the first hour today going over your exam prep.’

Codder gave a salute and swaggered out.

Gray picked at his oats as Killian ate his own breakfast. Giving Codder a promotion seemed like an epic mistake. People talked about sorcerers being psychopaths. Well, normal humans could be, too. Codder would likely be as terrible as Krupin or Wilde, if he was given enough power.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Killian sipped his third cup of coffee.

They sat in strained silence.

Gray rested his temple against the cool glass of the window and methodically pushed down any words that rose within him.

Killian seemed to be stalling. His gaze kept straying from his coffee to Gray. His cup was empty.

There was movement from the bed.

Both Killian and Gray jumped.

Frostvine had rolled onto her side.

She began snoring.

She’d never so much as twitched since Gray had first seen her. She’d done nothing but breathe peacefully and lay on her back.

Killian rushed over to the bed. Tapped her face. ‘Frostvine. Frostvine.’

She didn’t wake.

He moved around her, settling her robes, and adjusting her into a more comfortable position on her side.

The question fell out of Gray before he had a chance to stop himself. ‘What’s wrong with her?’

Killian shot him a strange glance.

‘Nothing’s wrong with her,’ he said tightly.

‘She,’ said Gray, wishing he’d said nothing - he needed to not piss off Killian, Codder, everyone, more than he’d already done. He needed to be damn invisible. ‘She doesn’t wake.’

‘You tried to wake her?’

There was a sharpness in Killian’s words.

‘No,’ muttered Gray quickly, ‘I meant, only - she doesn’t wake.’

Killian frowned at him. ‘She’s just in an unwakeable sleep.’

Gray swallowed, and pushed down his curiosity and confusion.

‘You know what an unwakeable sleep is?’ said Killian slowly, his attention fully on Gray.

‘Yes. A,’ said Gray, ‘a sleep where you don’t wake up.’

Killian hid his face as he finished with Frostvine, then, stiffly, he sat back down opposite Gray.

‘You call yourself a sorcerer,’ said Killian.

‘You call me a sorcerer,’ said Gray. ‘And a lot more than that, I imagine.’

If he could get Killian distracted from what he’d just done, maybe there'd be no reprisal. Maybe Gray hadn't messed up so badly ...

Killian’s face and body were immobile for a beat. ‘I call you a poor liar.’ He pinned Gray with his dark gaze, his ankle crossed over his knee. ‘And I call you my retirement fund.’

Gray dropped his gaze down to the table. Every time he thought he saw some glimmer of humanity in Killian, he stripped it away.

‘I didn’t realise you were that old,’ said Gray. ‘You look good for sixty-five.’

Killian let out a controlled breath. 'I just nailed you for calling me an asshole. You don't have one lick of self-preservation, do you?'

The air was still stormy with pressure, too thick to be cut by a jibe.

‘I,’ said Gray. Every instinct within him was screaming to shut the heck up.

Gray closed his mouth.

Quiet filled the space between them.

Why wasn’t he leaving?

Gray’s hair was sweaty on his forehead. The length of his cut hair was just so that it was curling into his eyes.

Killian’s gaze was as guarded as it was dark. He stiffly turned to watch Frostvine. ‘She’s OK. She will be. An unwakeable sleep, it’s common. If a mage extends themselves too much, they get exhausted, and they’ll sleep for days, sometimes weeks, until they recover their energy.’

‘She was in a battle?’ Gray said tentatively.

Killian shook his head slightly. ‘She fahrened my division here, kid.’

‘That’s difficult to do?’ said Gray.

Killian tilted his head, his gaze darting back to Frostvine. ‘Yes, for some mages.’ Killian shifted his attention back to Gray. ‘You’re curious about it?’

Gray hesitated.

'Hm?'

Gray shook his head, busying himself picking at a small burn on the tabletop.

‘The northerners here,’ said Killian, ‘they really have nothing to do with mages. This is all very basic, common knowledge.’

Killian frowned at the rising sun through the window. The golden light lit every scar on his face, every bristle of stubble on his unshaven chin.

He drained the last drop of coffee from his mug.

‘Come on, then,’ he said.

Killian made to haul Gray out of the chair, then abruptly stopped himself.

‘Let’s go, kid,’ said Killian. ’Stand.’

Gray’s heart sank. ‘Where are we going?’

You’re coming with me to the exam prep,’ said Killian.

When Gray continued to hesitate, Killian said, ‘I don’t want Frostvine waking up alone with you in the room.’

Gray drew in a long breath. ‘Oh.’ Then, gradually, ‘I won’t hurt her. I wouldn’t do that.’

‘She’ll hurt you. If she gets a fright, she’ll slam your untrained, unryeced ass.’

Gray followed Killian out of the room. He hobbled, using the wall for support, and ignoring the impatient sighs coming from Killian.

By the time they got outside the old captain’s door with the worn stag head knocker, a handful of soldiers had already set up inside, sitting in mismatched chairs and books open on their laps. Someone had wheeled a blackboard inside, and chalk lay broken on the cluttered desk. Gray spotted Codder and Pickering.

Killian shoved Gray down onto the floor, against the wall with the wanted posters. ‘Someone get him a workbook.’

Pickering tossed Gray a blank notebook and a pencil.

Codder trained his shadowed gaze on Gray. He was tracking his every movement.

‘Sir,’ said Codder, ‘Major, can you go over how to spot the difference between a mage and a sorcerer first? Seeing as we have a live, practical example here.’

Killian surveyed Codder. ‘You won’t be tested on that. Not until you’ve completed your mage training when you do your exam for Captain.’

‘Major,’ said Codder, ‘my friend Roderick said he did get tested on it, sir, in the verbal.’

Killian raised an eyebrow. ‘Our sorcerer is shy as shit and volatile this morning. No.’

‘But, Major-’

‘You ever heard the saying recipe for disaster, Codder?’

‘What if I get asked about it, sir?’

‘He’s too young to be of much use as a practical demonstration,’ Killian said, exasperation creeping into his voice.

‘Then, how did you know, Major?’

Killian traced his jaw with the tip of his finger. ‘You captured him, Codder. You tell me.’

Codder was stunned into silence for a fraction of a second.

‘He was with Branbright, sir,' said Codder. 'Branbright I could spot a mile away. Branbright was fighting to keep us off him like it was the last stand, Major. I figured if he wanted the boy so badly, I should want him, too.’

‘Yeah, you wanted him,’ sniggered a soldier from the back.

Killian snatched the blackboard duster, and in one swift movement, threw it at the soldier with inhuman accuracy.

It hit him hard in the face. The soldier sat in stunned surprise, clutching his face. Chalkdust floated around him.

The atmosphere of the room shifted.

‘Then,’ continued Codder haltingly, eyeing Killian apprehensively, ‘I asked around, and the locals said a Griffin mage bred his get on a beautiful woman from the south, and the result was stray here.’ Codder jabbed his thumb in Gray’s direction.

‘That’s not completely true,’ said Pickering, sitting rigidly in his chair. ‘You were watching him-’

‘Look at him. He’s no northerner. I thought it was mighty odd for him to be up here in a small northern town,’ drawled Codder. ‘I didn’t know he was a sorcerer.’ Codder turned to Killian. ‘Please, Major. I already know tracking and navigation. I already know leadership and management.’

Killian paced like a caged wolf prowling the length of his enclosure. The men watched him in tense silence.

Then, Killian stopped in front of Gray, his boots polished within an inch of their life. Gray lifted his gaze.

‘Up,’ said Killian.

Gray clenched his jaw. Codder was messing with him. Killian had to know this.

But, he had to do what Killian wanted. He needed Killian to lower his guard again. He couldn’t afford to make Killian angry.

Forget angry.

After this morning, even irritation was off the table.

Gray slowly accepted Killian’s offered hand.