Stunned shock was stripping away Killian’s momentum. His fingernails dug into the cover of the alchemy book.

‘When did Baldwin give you this?’ said Killian.

‘A while ago.’

‘Why did he give you this?’ said Killian.

‘I’m not sure.’

‘He’s been seeing you?’

‘Uh …’

Killian waited for Gray to continue, motionless in the middle of the cell.

‘He needed extra things,’ said Gray, ‘for the alchemic test. He came and got me.’

‘He came and got you,’ Killian repeated softly.

‘I ran into him when I was getting my new stat papers scribed.’

Killian waited a beat. ‘And what was your score? Your magic stat? Twelve?’

Gray faltered, but there was no way around this, because it would be so easy for Killian to get his hands on the stat scores when he went back to the king, and, hell, even the prison guards already knew his magic stat.

‘No,’ said Gray eventually, staring hard at the toes of his boots.

‘What was it?’

’78.’

Silence rang.

‘That’s the base score?’ said Killian.

Gray gave the slightest of nods.

‘That’s a little higher than twelve,’ said Killian, his words loaded. ‘Isn’t it?’

Gray avoided his gaze. ‘It’s not out of the ordinary range.’

‘Yeah,’ said Killian tightly, ‘if you’re Clochaint.’

Gray continued to look anywhere but Killian’s eyes.

‘I’ve never met a mage with a base score higher than fifty,’ said Killian.

‘It,’ said Gray, ‘happens.’

‘Well, we knew it was going to be high,’ said Killian. ‘Didn’t we?’

‘I guess.’

‘Total score?’ commanded Killian.

‘120.’

When Killian continued to stand there in thick silence, Gray drew in a deep breath and said, ‘and the king came here tonight. To take me to the - meeting.’

‘He came and got you tonight?’ Killian held a hand to his forehead, his dark eyes wide. ‘He came here tonight and saw these books?’

Gray nodded.

‘Gods, Gray. You’re lucky he didn’t burn your cell down.’

‘There’s something wrong with these books?’

‘These books are evidence of his orders being disobeyed,’ said Killian. ‘You - are - high - security.’

‘He,’ said Gray, his throat dry, ‘was quite calm.’

‘Quite calm?’ Killian was utterly still. Then he began pacing, his hand gripping his hair. He tossed a side glance at Gray.

Gray kept his mouth shut as Killian continued to pace. His footsteps echoed softly, pad, pad, pad.

All the colour had drained from Killian’s face.

‘How does the alchemy test work?’ Killian said. ‘Can you predict a result early, or what?’

‘I - I mean,’ said Gray fumbling for words and frowning because Killian didn’t know something so basic, ‘sometimes, yeah, you can see a transformation test beginning to change, and you’ll have a good idea of the way it’s going to turn out, but - I don’t know about the test the king’s doing, it’s complicated, I don’t know much about it. You don’t learn this kind of transformation in school, I’d have to study at the alchemy academy for years to be able to tell you-‘

‘It’s not in his book?’

‘No, that’s just some basic alchemy.’

‘Theoretically,’ said Killian, ‘he could know early? He could have some idea? He’s talked to you about this?’

‘We haven’t discussed that.’

‘And what have you discussed?’

‘Nothing,’ said Gray. ‘I’m making it sound like he’s conversing with me … he’s not, he just gave me the book because he thought I’d be bored here.’

Killian’s mouth was pressed into a hard line. His battle scars were faded in the lantern light. Then, he bowed his head, clutching the book. He placed it carefully onto the window sill, slow and measured, his back to Gray and the guards.

‘Is that why he’s been in a good mood for the past couple weeks?’ said Killian softly. ‘He thinks he knows already? The outcome of the alchemic test?’

’I,’ said Gray, ‘don’t know.’

Frowning down at the floor, Killian rubbed his forehead. Adjusted his shoulders. Muttered an oath. Then, sharp, quiet, ‘A magic stat of 78 is a very high starting point.’

Gray kept his mouth clamped shut.

‘You know that, right?’ said Killian. ‘It’s exactly two points from being classed as a dangerous base score.’ He shook a finger at Gray. ‘You need to be trained.’

Gray gathered his voice. ‘Well, yeah.’

Killian was pale. The battle scars were stark on his face.

‘He’s treating you like you’re Wynn’s,’ said Killian. ‘He thinks you’re Wynn and Cori’s son. He thinks he’s found a new Griffin mage to train up. A dueller.’

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Gray faltered. ‘Cori?’

‘Yes,’ said Killian. ‘Cori. Wynn and Cori. He believes you’re Wynn and Cori’s son?’

Gray lowered his gaze, shielding his expression. He’d never heard the name Cori before, and something was crumbling within him at the sound of it, a memory flitting in and out of his mind faster than he could catch and hold it.

‘Cori,’ said Killian, his eyes narrowing, and edging closer, ‘Cori was Wynn’s wife.’

‘Oh.’ Gray’s voice was whisper-quiet.

Killian edged closer, his brow deeply furrowed. ‘Cori was the mother of Finnley.’ He edged closer again. ‘Finnley, the missing son. Wynn and Cori’s son.’

‘I know what you’re doing,’ said Gray, leaning back. ‘You’re doing your wolf thing. Stop.’

Gray knew the name Finnley.

He’d seen it on the wanted and missing posters sent up to Krydon every year. Conor’s had always been more prominent, but Gray was aware of the other missing Griffin kid - Finnley.

For some damn reason, Gray felt wobbling in his chin, and he hurriedly rubbed his mouth, slamming one hundred mental shields in place.

Killian held himself rigidly still. Then, he held his head in his hands. He muttered an oath, long and drawn out.

‘Look kid,’ said Killian, immovable and sounding distinctly uncomfortable. ‘I think I’ve fucked up. I think - maybe I’ve fucked up really badly. I think maybe Baldwin was right to fire me.’

Gray was aware of the guards standing right beside him outside the cell, and the prisoners listening from the shadows. He was not talking about this here.

And not with Killian.

‘It’s fine,’ interrupted Gray.

‘I understand this is a sensitive topic, and I don’t mean to push, but I’m going to ask you-‘

‘No.’

Killian tilted his head. ‘No?’

‘You don’t get to ask me - that.’

‘You know what I’m going to ask you?’

‘Yes,’ said Gray.

Killian was going to ask him if he was Finnley Griffin, and he was going to ask it point blank, with no wriggle room, because Killian thought he'd prodded at something, he'd made Gray react, and Gray was sick of being asked about who he was when he didn’t know.

He’d told Killian this already.

He’d told him so many times.

Killian held his hands up placatingly. ‘OK.’ Then, ‘You’re to have nothing to do with Codder from now on, OK?’

Gray’s breath left him.

Killian was still talking, he was waving his hand to dismiss the guards, and all the while, Gray was having an internal breakdown because he was so beyond screwed, Killian knew it was Codder, of course he knew.

And the guards were walking away, their footsteps were fading down the corridor.

And Killian was still talking, and Gray could barely breathe, barely think.

‘… Baldwin’s treating you like one of his favourite mages. I knew it, I knew you were too familiar with each other in his office … He should’ve knocked you flat for talking out of turn, but just not now, Gray, like you were one of his damn kids …’

Killian clicked his fingers sharply in front of Gray. ‘You listening?’

‘Yes.’

‘Get in here.’

Gray stepped into his cell as though his legs were made of wood. ‘Killian, you can’t-’

‘You’ll have nothing to do with Codder from now on,’ Killian repeated.

‘Right,’ said Gray, ‘I’ll keep that in mind the next time I have the urge to track him down.’

’Stop sassing him, stop baiting him. You’ll issue no challenge to him, am I clear?’

Gray let out a short breath. ‘Challenge?’

‘You hate him.’

Silence settled around them.

‘Am I clear?’ said Killian.

Gray glared hard at the small window, at the dark night sky. Killian wasn’t in charge of him, but Gray knew it would sound stupidly childish to say this so he couldn’t bring himself to utter the words.

‘Save the attitude, kid. I’ve seen men hate each other as much as you and Codder,’ said Killian. ‘I know where this path can lead. It leads to duels, it leads to fights in the tournament ring, it leads to a big old mess.’

Gray shoved his hands into his pockets.

‘Kid?’

‘I won’t fight Codder,’ said Gray stiffly.

Killian, his movements controlled, laid out the luna moth jar, the chalk, and the limestone on the floor in front of Gray, right next to where he’d thrown the books. ‘What was the deal with Codder, hm?’

‘There was no deal-’

‘He’s playing you?’

‘No.’ Words started spilling out of Gray’s mouth, because if Killian already knew, if he was already adding everything together, maybe it was better to come clean. At least in part. ‘He wanted information. Answers. About Krydon. That’s all.’

Killian waited, his shoulders tense.

‘He gives me the books I want,’ said Gray. ‘And I give him what I find. That’s it. That’s - it.’

’To pass onto me,’ said Killian. ‘What else? Hm?’

‘That’s it.’

Killian held up his hands. ‘Look, you need to be careful. Codder’s not my man anymore. I don’t have any power to pull him into line. I can’t stop him if you’ve entered some foolish verbal contract with him.’

But, Killian had barely ever pulled Codder into line even when he did have authority over him. Codder nearly always did whatever he wanted.

‘How do you know if you’ve entered a verbal contract?’ said Gray, anxiety coiling inside his stomach.

Killian pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering a string of words under his breath.

'Killian, how do you know?'

'What wording did he use?' said Killian.

Gray pressed his fingers to his temples. 'I don't - remember. I don't remember.'

‘All right, calm down. What’s he got over you? Hm?’

Gray tried to collect himself. He had to collect himself. There was no other option. He lowered his voice. ‘You can’t tell him you know.’

‘What’s he threatened you with?’

‘Promise me. Killian, please.’

Killian stared at him, his mouth in a hard line. ‘I promise you.’

Gray felt his shoulders sag.

‘I don’t entertain blackmail or threats, kid. Nor should you. You really going to let him take all the credit for your work?’

‘I don’t care about the credit,’ whispered Gray, ‘I care about someone doing something about all this. Someone has to do something.’

‘Gray, believe me, I’m doing something. I’m not letting it go. I see through what I start, for better or worse.’

‘You were fired,’ said Gray.

‘Yes, I was. It’s not going to stick.’

‘You were really fired. It was bad.’

‘Are you kidding me?’ said Killian. ‘That was nothing, you should’ve seen Baldwin after I lost the Old Town skirmish against Krupin.’

Gray just shook his head.

Killian could downplay it, but the firing had been terrible. Gray had seen how rattled Killian had been.

Killian ran a hand through his hair.

’Now,’ said Killian, ‘what do you need? Hm?’

Gray stared at his boots, the words echoing hollowly within him.

‘Gray?’

‘You - get made Major,’ said Gray, ‘can you put him back on your team?’

‘That dickhead,’ said Killian abruptly. ‘Baldwin gives me everything he’s promised, you better believe I’m choosing the strongest team I can muster. Codder’s bloody excellent, I’ve put a lot of time into him, but he needs to be able to obey me to even think of qualifying.’

Gray’s mouth was dry.

‘You going to come to your senses and stop dodging my questions? Tell me what his leverage is, kid, then we can figure out what you need to get you out of this mess.’

Examining the toes of his boots, Gray desperately tried to think through his options, of what was and wasn’t safe to say to Killian.

‘Gray. We need to get back to the guild. We have a lot to discuss with Baldwin.’

Gray teetered on the edge of telling Killian.

Words tangled.

His tongue wouldn’t cooperate.

Gray glanced at his closest neighbour. Listened to the sounds of prisoners shifting in their cells.

Killian let out a sharp sigh. ‘I trained my men until they were on another level. They had to be, to survive the work. But especially Codder. You try to sit at the adult table with him, kid, he’ll make you the meal. Let me help you, hey?’

Gray breathed in. For four counts.

Out.

‘I’m not mad at him, OK?’ said Killian. ‘You’ll tell me now?’

But, Killian was mad at Codder, Gray could see it, feel it.

Killian let out another sigh, but this one was long and controlled.

‘I can teach you, so that this,’ Killian tapped the books, ‘doesn’t ever happen again.’ There was a long pause. ‘Hm?’

Gray’s insides turned to ice.

Because Codder was right. Major has something in mind for you.

‘I can teach you to fight,’ said Killian. ‘I can make you so formidable that no one will even try this crap with you. Not even Codder.’

There was no air in the room.

Because if Codder was right about this-

‘I get made Major,’ said Killian, ‘and you agree to be my novice, I’ll get your total stat score up to three hundred within a year.’

Gray couldn’t make himself look at Killian.

’No,’ said Gray, so quietly that Killian couldn’t have heard him.

But he did.

Right,’ Killian said tightly. ‘Fine. That's fine.’

He snatched up Gray’s luna moth, chalk, and limestone wrapped in dragonhide.

‘Grab your things,’ said Killian, his face a guarded mask. ‘Follow me. You’re not staying here anymore.’

Gray faltered, paralysed.

‘Or would you rather stay?’ said Killian.

This had to be a trick.

'Excuse me?' said Gray.

Killian stalked out of the cell.

'Leave the prison?' said Gray.

'Yes, kid.'

'I'm allowed to do that?' said Gray.

'You're concerned about the rules, now?'

'I ...'

Killian looked him dead in the eye. 'You coming?'

Trick or no, Gray wasn't going to risk missing out on the opportunity to leave.

Gray collected up his books and followed Killian out of the prison.