The world recoiled.

There was a sharp ‘oof’ or surprise.

Gray stumbled back, breath ragged, and in the dark, his panicked mind took an extra half-second to register the royal guard robes and the wand holster on the wrist. The build. The voice. The tilt to the chin.

Ellery Drake.

No gold mask.

Just his face, unshaven and lined with concern.

Beside him, a huge, hulking wolf.

The wolf was running up the mountain before Gray could think, before he knew what he was seeing.

Ellery drew his chalk circle on the steep side of the mountain. He jerked Gray close, he spun on the spot, and

CRACK.

-

CRACK.

They were outside the guild in Dierne, the marble towers looming over them, the polished marble steps splayed before them.

‘We saw you light up that mountain like a lighthouse,’ said Ellery, dragging Gray up the guild steps. Lightning split the sky. Thunder followed. Rain started to fall in huge drops. ‘Killian got me immediately. We need to-’

Gray wrenched free.

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ said Gray. ‘I’m not going anywhere with anyone.’

‘Gray,’ said Ellery, his hands held out pleadingly, his face stark with worry, ‘I have to get back to Killian. Now. He’s alone with Longwark. You understand?’

Fury pounded within Gray. Fear warred inside him. ‘Another sorcerer is going there.’

‘What?’

‘Another sorcerer is going to Longwark. He’s making this storm. He’s probably already with Longwark-‘

‘Who?’

‘I don’t know.’

Ellery’s face was pale.

‘I have to go,’ said Ellery. ‘Killian will need backup. And you need guards.’

As though summoned by Ellery’s words, guild guards were running down the marble steps, their cloaks billowing, their masks glinting in the lamp light.

Rain was falling in earnest.

‘No guards,’ snarled Gray.

‘Gray,’ said Ellery. ‘I have to go. Stay with the guards. Longwark almost collected you. The guards are for protection.’

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Gray shut his eyes. Fisted his hands. Whatever the hell had just happened, it wasn’t collecting. Longwark’s agenda seemed to be to bring Gray safely to someone else.

Someone else with the most stone-cold, ruthless magic he’d ever felt.

‘Gray, please!’

‘Fine.’

In a blink, Ellery had drawn another chalk circle on the ground and, in a rush of energy and sound, was gone.

Shimmering air took his place.

And then guards swarmed Gray.

They escorted him up to the guild.

-

The king’s three kids were slumped against the far wall, asleep together on a plush-looking couch.

How they slept through the storm beating the towers of the guild, through the bright flickering lamplight, through the bustle was an impressive feat to Gray.

Cyril was issuing orders to a string of mage masters that were in and out of his office with startling and quiet speed.

His ancient and powerful voice vibrated underneath the thunder and rain.

Gray stood in front of the king, his legs trembling and fatigue crashing down on him with the force of a giant’s fist.

Rain hit the windowpanes like frothing rapids in a river.

The claps of thunder were so loud they shook the building.

‘Someone else,’ said the king. ‘And Longwark.’

Gray’d told the guards that another sorcerer was up in those mountains with Longwark, and they’d spread the word faster than Gray’s been escorted up to the Grand High Master Mage’s office.

Gray’s chest was tight.

‘Report,’ said the king.

‘Report?’ Gray’s voice was hoarse. His throat clawed.

He was wet from the rain. Sooty. Covered in cuts and grazes.

‘Tell me what happened, and it needs to be fast,’ said the king coldly. His words were clipped. Utterly impatient. ‘I need to help capture Longwark.’ Fury was emanating from him.

Cold. Precise.

Vicious.

Rage lurked so closely under the surface of Gray that he didn’t care how furious the king was. He didn’t care if the king was terrifying or violent.

Anger tied Gray’s tongue.

‘What happened?’ said the king.

Gray struggled to keep his temper at bay.

The king raised an eyebrow. ’Something happened, because you lit up that mountain, Gray. I saw it. Cyril here felt it.’

Gray forced words out. ’We argued.’

‘About what?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Gray, struggling to keep his tone in check. ‘It was all lies.’

‘I say it does matter,’ said the king. ‘Report. Quickly, now.’

‘He’s been working for you.’

The words burst out of Gray, and he didn’t have time to temper the anger or heat out of them. The accusation hung in the air between them.

There was the smallest shift on the king’s expression. The slightest tightening of his shoulders underneath his robes. ‘He told you he’s my agent,’ said the king coldly. ‘Was.’

‘See, lies,’ said Gray. ‘He’s retired.’

‘He’s,’ said the king, ‘not retired. I need useful details, Gray.’

A memory flashed through Gray’s mind, of Longwark frequently disappearing from Krydon, sometimes for days at a time. People always said it was for hunting down alchemy components. But perhaps it had been for something else.

'I have nothing useful for you,' said Gray.

Gray wasn't ordinarily someone with a death wish. Rage was making him utterly reckless.

'Let me decide that. Report.'

’You’ve been giving him orders?’ said Gray.

‘Longwark has two masters,’ said the king, a cutting edge to his words. A warning.

Anger coiled within Gray. ‘One master is you. Who’s the other?’

The king stepped close, much too close. Gray’s skin prickled, but he refused to move, refused to back away.

‘Your choice right now,’ said the king, low and fast, ‘is to be uncooperative and childish, to delay me, while there are good men and women out there who not only risked themselves to bring you back to safety, but have also risked themselves to fight someone who’s betrayed this kingdom.’ The king lowered his voice even further. ‘Do I have that right?’

Heat crept up the back of Gray’s neck. He didn't want anyone else hurt, not tonight, not by Longwark.

The king waited for a response.

‘He has weapons,’ Gray said stiffly. He listed the weapons and potions that Longwark had. The layout of the furniture within the cave. The access. He described the magic he’d felt coming in with the storm.

The king eyed Gray. ‘This conversation isn’t finished. I expect you to be here when I get back, Gray.’

The king turned on his heel and spoke briefly with Cyril.

Cyril threw up his arms. ‘I’m a little busy, Baldwin, I can’t babysit your latest star-’

‘Don’t disobey me.’

The king fahrenned right out of the office with a soft, controlled crack.