Gray followed the king through the stables, his boots scuffing hay.

The scent of horse and leather was thick. Rows of hooded hunting birds turned their heads at the sound of Gray passing. Some of the stalls had packs of dogs, curled up together, snoozing. Crows. Cats. There was a low hum of noise from the animals and workers.

Stablehands bowed hurriedly as the king passed.

This was the first moment Gray'd had since the orbs for his mind to come back to what the king had said.

The power of the djinn comes at a cost, the king had said. A cost he wouldn't pay.

Gray barely knew anything about djinn except for what was commonly in stories. The king had been busy all morning while Gray had gone through his first three lessons, and his posture did not invite questions or conversation. Gray wanted to get into a library. He wanted to research, not only djinn, but also to try and find that same book on curse marks that had been on Longwark's desk in the cave.

And the instructors didn't seem to know any more about vampiric sorcerers than Gray.

No knowledge of weaknesses. And strengths? Assume everything is a strength, when it comes to a vampiric sorcerer, Whitlock had said.

The hay thinned underfoot, replaced by gold and tawny feathers. The air changed, too, shifting from the earthy scent of horses.

And then, hunched against the far wall, with the tack, was a slight woman.

She lowered her blue hood as the king and Gray approached. Griffin feathers, gold and catching the light, wove through her intricately styled black hair. Her eyes were large and dark, and refused to quite meet the gaze of Gray.

'Corentin,' said the king coolly, 'this is Gray. As we discussed. You remember?'

'Mellow and warmth.' Corentin bowed deeply. 'Mustn't darry. Mustn't potter.'

'That's right.' The king's face was unreadable.

A sharp click echoed from one of the stalls.

A massive, feathered head emerged into the dim light. The griffin's golden eyes locked onto the king and then Gray, unblinking. It looked so regal, so perfectly groomed, that it could've been sculpted by the gods themselves. Gray edged forward to get a better look. If it was a mountain griffin, it was on the smaller side, but immaculately maintained and cared for. The griffin's lion body was sleek and powerful, its tail flicking.

'You.' Corentin's voice was soft. Shy. 'See and do.'

She touched her delicate fingers to her eyes. Blinked slow. Brushed her fingers lightly across her brow, then pressed them to her heart.

The griffin watched her, its head tilted.

She stepped closer, hands out, with no hesitation. The griffin met her touch, bumping its beak against her palm.

'Confidence, Gray,' said the king. 'Respect.'

Gray drew in a long breath and then mimicked her movements. Blinked. Brow to chest.

He held his hand out.

The griffin stared. Clicked its beak. Its golden eyes shimmered. Then - gently, deliberately - it touched its beak to Gray's palm.

It wasn't just the smooth hardness of the beak or the warmth of the breath beneath his fingers. As with the mountain griffin, there was something here that was the feeling of home.

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Like walking down a familiar road and getting that bloom of warmth in your chest from seeing your family there, waiting. Just out of reach.

The sensation whispered through Gray.

Whereas the griffin in Krydon had slammed Gray with sensations, this was different. This was quiet. A murmur of voices in the next room.

Gray turned to Corentin. 'Now?'

'Then,' said Corentin.

Gray waited, thinking perhaps 'then' meant she was going to show him the following step. She swayed on the spot, not quite meeting Gray's eyes, and then fixating on the griffin.

'Try again, Gray,' said the king.

Gray hesitated and then reached out-

The griffin shoved him. A hard push back with its sharp beak.

He stumbled back, nearly falling. The king made a sound - something sharp - and pressed a hand to the silvery hair at his temple.

Corentin's large eyes were wide. 'Colour in the sky and colour in the heart, colour must be the colour part.'

Gray exhaled through his nose. Right. He stepped up again, slower this time. Held his hand out.

'I know,' he said to the griffin, under his breath, 'I'm some strange guy who's getting all up in your space. But … I really need your help. Will you talk with me?'

The griffin snapped its beak, sharp and dismissive, and turned its hindquarters towards him.

Gray blinked. Glanced back at the king. 'What,' he said, 'comes after plan z?'

The king coldly met his gaze. 'Keep trying.'

Gray turned to Corentin.

She smiled, nervously. Silently. Fidgeted her delicate hands.

Gray sighed, rolling his shoulders. OK. Fine.

He stepped up to the griffin again.

—

Gray's fingers trembled as he gripped the smooth stone Mali had given him that morning. The three orbs were back in front of him.

Completely silent.

Gray kept his eyes screwed shut.

The sunlight had gone from the room, replaced by the warm light of lamps. Night blanketed the view from the window.

His body, his mind, everything ached.

He'd put his body through a hard day.

Griffin training.

The griffin had taken a dislike to Gray until Gray had fed him a bunch of dead rabbits. Even so, Gray hadn't gotten past just receiving sensations from the griffin.

Talking with a griffin didn't seem to be talking.

It was sensations. Images.

And Gray had no damn clue how he was supposed to negotiate this way.

Thaumaturgic weaponry. Close quarters combat. Tactical warfare. Ranged combat and mobility. Runic Warding.

The combat training and tactics were hard, and not Gray's strength, but Gray had some experience in them from his school. Runic warding, however, was completely new to him. He'd pushed his mind to memorise as many runes as his instructor, Daremid, threw at him, and to combine writing runes with his intention - the same intention they used in alchemy.

'Thoughts and will have power,' Daremid had said. The man was tough. Strict. 'It's not enough to simply write the rune. This is important; runic warding is a keystone in defence in dire situations. And don't get the symbols wrong.'

Mali cleared her throat, bringing Gray's focus back to the orbs in front of him.

All the instructors save Mali had left. The king was having a murmured conversation with a servant behind him.

One orb started humming. Gray kept his eyes closed, breathing. Relaxing. Holding the stone. The second orb hummed at a higher frequency.

It happened so fast, and it was so unexpected that Gray opened his eyes, startled.

The humming died down. The office was silent.

'Did you hear that?' said Gray excitedly.

'Yeah,' said Mali, smiling at Gray.

Gray impatiently shoved sweaty hair out of his eyes. He made to close his eyes, to try again.

'I think that's enough for today,' said Mali.

'One more go,' said Gray. 'I think I almost have it.'

'No,' said Mali firmly. 'You've had enough.' She glanced over at the king. 'Baldwin, it's almost midnight.'

The king was at his desk, peering at them coldly over a long scroll. 'Fine. Good night, Mali.'

The room was strangely quiet after Mali packed up her orbs and left.

Gray glanced at the dark window, uncomfortable at being one-on-one with the king again. 'I'm going back to the guild?'

'No,' said the king, setting down his scroll. 'There have been threats made on the guild. I won't have anyone sleeping there.'

'Threats?'

'It happens from time to time,' said the king. 'Especially during times of turmoil.'

Gray's heart sank. With difficulty, he said, 'the prison, then?'

The look the king gave him was somewhat odd. His gaze was deadly, but in a way that was a default, in a way that sometimes your face settled into something very unfriendly despite you harbouring no ill will within. There were no other signs of malice in him. No strained movements, no predatory shifting of his posture; a lion staring at a gazelle without wanting to bother with a hunt.

No waves of rage ripping through the air.

'I'm not satisfied with the security there,' said the king.

Gray waited, wiping his sweaty palms on his fighting blacks.

'You will not be returning to the prison,' said the king.

'That's - that's good, sir.'

Gray waited for the king to continue and fought down the sudden, horrible thought that he might be staying with the king?

Gods, no.

But, truly, no. That would not happen.

'But,' said the king, 'I need to give you something before you go anywhere.'

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