Gray sat rigidly in the booth. The muted sounds of the other customers in the pub sounded oddly distant.

'Hm? Kid?'

Dropping his gaze to the table, Gray frowned.

'Did something happen with Conor at the barracks,' said Gray, 'to make you-?'

'It's not your concern what happened with Conor.'

'It is, though,' said Gray, keeping his temper. 'It's clearly messed you up, and now you're asking me these questions. Did you see the note he left?'

'I'm pretty sure it'll mess you up if I start going through the details of Conor's attack. You leave for Krydon tomorrow, and I need you focused on what's important. You understand this?'

'No,' Gray muttered.

'What was that?' said Killian.

Gray sat back, putting as much distance as he could between them.

He didn't want an argument.

He and Killian had found a kind of truce that hadn't been unpleasant. He didn't want to run the risk of getting kicked out of Killian's home in a moment of temper. He liked Killian's home and his room there.

Killian stared at him, his eyebrows raised.

Gray's jaw tensed. 'I understand you, sir.'

'Don't get hostile, kid,' said Killian.

'I'm not,' said Gray. 'I understand.'

'Gray.'

'I'm telling you I understand, OK?'

'You're pissed, you clearly don't understand. I told you before,' said Killian, 'we're not doing misunderstandings. I don't have time for them. I'm not telling you about Conor because your nature is soft as hell, I suspect you have some lingering attachment to your cousin, and I don't want your head all over the place when I hand you over to Jessica tomorrow.'

'I know it was bad, I saw you when they brought you home,' said Gray.

Killian let out an expletive under his breath.

'Don't feed me some bullshit line about it messing with my head,' said Gray.

Killian scrubbed a scabbed hand over his face, before leaning back in the booth with his arms folded. Let out a short, controlled sigh.

'Fine,' said Killian brusquely. 'Fine. You're right. Conor, he got into my head. But, that's standard for sorcerers, they're mind messers, they have magic that can get into your thoughts, your memories, and can mess with you.'

Gray kept himself utterly still.

He'd been expecting violent or graphic details. Maybe even details about the tombs Conor was chasing. Not this.

They can get into your memories?

Gray must've looked shocked, because Killian said, 'You all right?'

'They,' said Gray, 'create memories and -?'

'No, they don't create memories,' said Killian. 'They take what you have and use it against you. While they also attack. And create illusions like you're in a damn house of mirrors. At least, some sorcerers can do.'

Gray's breath had left him. 'Oh.'

'He's clearly been trained,' said Killian, stiffly. 'Very well. He's good at the big magic, and he's good at the complicated magic. He created illusions, he was in my mind at the same time, he had me physically chasing nothing. I was fighting smoke. And he wasn't alone.' Killian's voice was tight. 'And yeah, it's fucked me up a bit, but I'll be fine. I am fine. But it has brought up some things for me I need answered, before you leave for Krydon.'

Gray's stomach was sliding down to his toes.

Killian looked like he was going to force himself to go into more details, and Gray wasn't sure he wanted to hear it, he didn't want to know which of Killian's memories Conor had trampled through to mess with his head.

Gray didn't want such personal details about Killian.

A truce between them was good, a truce was great. But anything more than trading wisecracks and making the idiot chicken soup when Gray's cousin had nearly brutally killed him - anything even remotely resembling friendship, hell, even professional was pushing it - Gray wasn't interested.

Especially as Killian didn't look keen to share, either.

Tentatively, Gray reached across the table and patted Killian's scabbed hand. 'OK.'

Killian paused. 'OK?'

Gray nodded, gesturing to Killian that he'd said enough.

'Are you going to answer my questions?' said Killian.

Gray pulled at the collar of his training blacks, wishing the room wasn't so warm.

'Elona, kid,' said Killian.

'I told you before,' said Gray, his voice low, 'that I can't answer those questions for you. I don't know.'

'What do I need to do to get you to answer questions about Elona honestly?'

'I am being honest,' said Gray, trying to keep things light. Polite. Not only did he not want a fight with Killian because of the risk of getting kicked out, he didn't want to push Killian while the man was so raw. Killian, of all people, would not like Elona's reasoning for hiding Gray.

Gray gave Killian a small smile. 'You're not listening to me.'

'I'm listening to you, but either you're fooling yourself or you're dodging answering because - what? You don't feel safe to answer?'

Gray sat mute, taken aback.

'This isn't an interrogation, OK, kid?'

'It can be hard to tell with you,' said Gray, his polite smile firmly in place.

'I …' said Killian.

The look on Killian's face was turning odd. It was guarded, and - and was he embarrassed? Gray slid low in the booth, his polite smile fast fading away.

'Look,' said Killian abruptly, 'clearly I need to repair the trust between us. But, I don't know how. All I know is I need to. Because I need you to answer these questions about Elona for me, and I know I'm asking you to go out on a limb. I get that.'

Gray shifted, beginning to feel awkward.

Killian let out the smallest, restrained groan, running a hand through his dark hair. 'Gaining the trust of a mage kid I royally screwed over is a little out of my area of expertise. I need your help here.'

'My help?' said Gray.

'My usual tactic of getting important - probably crucial - information out of a reluctant party is not going to cut it,' said Killian. 'Hm?'

Gray had a fleeting thought; he had no crucial information he was keeping from anyone.

'You mean, usually you'd use brute force,' said Gray, attempting a grin.

'Yeah,' said Killian. 'Obviously. That and a healthy dose of psychological warfare. I break them down, destabilise their sense of self, and get them willing to do anything to please me. Then I get my answers.'

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Gray's attempted grin felt frozen on his face, not entirely sure if Killian was joking or not.

'The Griffins haunt me enough as it is,' said Killian. 'I'm not about to make it worse by messing with Wynn's precious boy.'

Gray dropped his gaze onto the scrubbed table, shielding his reaction.

Killian cleared his throat.

'What do you need from me, to answer these questions?' Killian said flatly.

'I don't …'

Killian pressed his hand over his eyes. 'Of course you don't know what you need from me.' He dropped his hand, sighing. 'Look, I could tell you, you're safe. I've got your back. Because I do. And you're not going to get in trouble for what you say to me.'

Gray suppressed a sceptical snort. Killian had his back?

True, Killian had radically changed his behaviour towards Gray, but Killian was following orders from the king, he was ultimately loyal to Baldwin. Gray doubted Killian had Gray's back in the way Gray would mean if he told someone he had their back, because if Baldwin ordered Killian to imprison or disappear Gray, he'd - well, Gray didn't trust Killian not to follow the order loyally.

Not that Baldwin would do that now. Not while he needed Gray.

'I could tell you,' continued Killian, 'about the family, just up the road here, kid, who are grieving tonight because they lost three sons in the barracks attack. That Conor murdered them, without a second thought, to get to bleeding treasure maps.'

Gray's mouth had gone dry.

'I could tell you,' said Killian, his voice barely above a whisper, 'that sometimes, you have information that you don't think is important, but is actually crucial for restoring some basic sense of safety and stability for the millions of people living in this kingdom. People just trying to live their lives. People exactly like Alistair. And Rowan.'

The waiter hurried over with their steaming plates of food, and set them down on the table with trembling hands.

Gray wrenched his gaze up from his hot meal, reluctantly meeting Killian's dark stare.

There were words in Gray's mind. Words on his tongue. He knew he needed to tell someone about Conor.

Tension settled across Gray's shoulders.

'But,' said Killian, all stiff lines, 'I know that's not going to build trust between us. You're not going to trust the words coming out of my mouth. It's not going to make you answer, in the way I need you to answer. At least not to me, because I messed with you, physically and mentally, to get you to break, back at Krydon. Not that it worked, you never confessed, you barely cooperated in Krydon, you just shut down. And I'm worried that I'll make you shut down again if I push too hard.'

Gray's pulse thudded.

'I'm so out of my depth here, kid. I know I'm the last person who should be here,' said Killian, 'trying to get sensitive information out of you. But I don't know if there's any adult here, within a hundred miles, that you do trust, that should be talking to you instead, and I - I don't know what to do to get you to answer my questions-'

'I'll answer your questions,' mumbled Gray.

Killian paused. 'Huh?'

'I think you're officially rambling,' said Gray, not unkindly.

Killian shot Gray a look. 'I don't ramble.'

'You were rambling.'

'Pfft.'

'You were rambling so much that I feel bad for you. I'll help you.'

There was a pointed silence.

Very precisely, Killian, laced his fingers together. He gave Gray a flat stare.

'Right,' said Killian, adjusting his posture. 'Actually, I was just laying my open, beating heart on the table, but, sure, rambling's a good term for it, too.'

'Ask your questions.' Gray's heart thudded. 'I'll answer you, as honestly as I can.'

Killian stared at Gray, his dark hair hanging in his eyes.

'But,' said Gray, 'there genuinely is a lot I don't know.'

Killian delicately laid his hands on the tabletop. 'OK. So, tell me about Elona.'

Gray took a moment, mentally fumbling for words over the beating tattoo in his chest.

Perhaps Killian took Gray's hesitation as him shying away from speaking at all, because Killian edged forward, his gaze guarded.

'Why,' said Killian, 'did Elona go to such lengths to hide Finnley Griffin?'

'The words Finnley Griffin never left her tongue,' said Gray, dropping his voice low. 'Just to make that clear. I was always Gray to her. Gray Keep. I was always Gray to me, with - with the … fear that I could - maybe - be not Gray. Deep down.'

Killian's mouth was a hard line.

'And - there's not much to tell,' said Gray. 'Elona didn't encourage questions. Elona was - she was smart and cautious, you know?'

'Smart and cautious enough to hide Finnley Griffin very well,' said Killian. 'A mage who'd be treated as well as a Clochaint-sent prince by the Augustes. Why would she hide you?'

'Wilde hunted down every Griffin and murdered them. And the power of the Augustes couldn't stop him. Hiding kept me alive.'

'I understand that,' said Killian, carefully tracing the line of his jaw with his fingertip, 'but, I'd say that the threat of Wilde is all the more reason to have you in the Auguste's state-of-the-art, best-in-the-world mage guild. Get you into training. Especially while Wilde's been holed up in Othoa.'

Underneath the table, Gray gripped his hands around the padded leather of the booth seat.

'Elona hated the Augustes,' said Gray, shoving down the feeling of betrayal rearing from deep within. She's dead, and no one can hurt her, and she wouldn't mind Gray telling the truth in a moment of confidence.

Killian leant back, his expression shuttering. 'Ah.'

'She hated them,' said Gray, keeping his words steady. 'Living with them, near them, even as one of their favoured, was living life on a tightrope, she said. They turn their preferences on a dime. Brutally cold and unpredictable, and sometimes – cruel … she promised …'

Killian waited, letting silence fill the space between them.

Gray drew in a controlled breath. 'She promised Ali and me that we wouldn't have a life dictated by them. She moved us as far away as possible before her resources ran out. I …' Gray hesitated and then plunged onward, 'I honestly think she was scared of Baldwin finding her. Not just because of me, you know? The king - he's …' Gray dropped his voice even lower, knowing he was treading on dangerous ground, '… you know he's a possessive man. I don't know how Elona got permission to leave the consort palace and marry Ryan in the first place.'

'It's a palace,' said Killian. 'Not a prison.'

Gray pressed his lips together, averting his gaze from Killian's watchful stare. Quiet stretched.

'I'll admit,' said Killian, 'at the time, when it happened, it caused quite the stir.'

Gray couldn't help the smallest hint of a smile creeping onto his face, despite the tightness in his lungs. 'Quite the stir?' he said, mimicking Killian's Lismerian accent.

'It was weird,' said Killian.

'That's the poshest sentence I've ever heard come out of your mouth,' said Gray. 'Quite the stir.'

'It only sounds posh to your ear because you're a northern barbarian.'

'OK,' said Gray.

'Weird as it was,' said Killian, 'it happened with Baldwin's blessing. He gave Ryan and Elona permission to marry. He still loved the Griffins. I don't ever presume to understand how mages operate. You all are a bit …'

Gray waited.

And waited.

'A bit what?' said Gray.

Killian pulled a face. 'Different.'

'We're all different,' said Gray. 'That's a human thing, not a mage thing.'

Killian scratched his eyebrow and then winced as he touched a raw bruise.

'Right?' said Gray.

'Mmm.'

Gray hesitated, getting a feeling of foreboding deep down. 'Right?'

'You're too young for me to explain how different mages are. Moving on.'

'Too young?'

Killian sat, so rigid and uncomfortable that Gray couldn't help staring.

'I'm confused,' said Gray, 'but I'm scared to ask for clarification-'

'There'll be no clarification. You just - stay confused.'

'What?'

'I'm simply telling you mages are different, and someday, someone - not me - will explain it. Someone will have to explain it before you reach maturity, but I did not sign up to give a civilian-raised mage kid an Other birds and the bees talk-'

'What?' Gray pressed a hand over his eyes, horrified.

'Look,' said Killian swiftly, 'let's move on-'

'You're making this so weird, Killian,' hissed Gray.

Killian let out a small cough.

Gray buried his face in his hands. Shuddered.

'Anyway,' said Killian, clearing his throat again, 'yeah, it was strange when Elona left to marry Ryan, but mages can be strange, and I don't understand the workings of their relationships.'

Gray nodded, staring hard at the table like it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.

'Not that Elona was a mage, but being one of Baldwin's consorts and living at the consort palace, she must've known how mages operate …' Killian faded out. 'You need a minute?'

Gray had slid so low in his seat that his eyeline was level with the table.

'I'll give you a minute,' said Killian dryly.

Gray refused to look Killian in the eye. He opened his mouth. Closed it.

Killian's lips twitched. He made a strangled sound and leant his head on his hand, hiding his expression.

'OK,' said Gray. 'There needs to be a rule six.'

Killian kept his expression hidden. His hand trembled. Cut off a strangled snorting sound.

'Will you stop enjoying yourself?' said Gray.

Killian lifted his head. Wiped away tears of suppressed laughter.

'You're messing with me,' said Gray.

'No,' said Killian. 'Sit up.'

Reluctantly, Gray made himself sit up straight in the booth.

'Elona organised the fake stat papers for you?' said Killian.

'Yes,' said Gray, gratefully seizing on the change of topic.

'She was very resourceful, then, hm?'

'Yes.'

'Those were the best fake stats I've ever seen.'

'She,' said Gray, 'she had – she brought things with her, she had jewels, fancy clothes, she had money, at least in the beginning. She knew people, she had a group of friends, she knew how to get what she needed.'

'Group of friends?' said Killian.

'Uh …' Gray fumbled for words.

'Hm?'

Gray glanced down at his hands.

'Were they a group of rebels?' said Killian calmly. Like he was supplying an option from the pub's menu. 'A society?'

'What?' said Gray.

'Were they?'

Gray let out a breath. 'Where did you get that from? I didn't say that.'

'I'm not saying you did. It's just a suggestion.'

'I was five,' said Gray. 'To me, they were a group of Elona's friends.'

'You aren't five now,' said Killian. 'What do you remember about them?'

Gray shifted.

'Would this group of friends get together regularly? Have meetings?' said Killian, after a long pause.

Elona knelt to get down on Gray's level. She brushed Gray's hair back off his forehead.

'Where's your hat?' she said.

The hat was scratchy.

'Upstairs,' said Gray.

'We'll play a game,' said Elona. 'Let's see how long you can keep your hat on. Every day you don't let anyone see you without your hat, you win a hot chocolate.'

Gray grinned. 'OK.'

'Why don't you go upstairs and find your hat while we have our meeting?' Elona had said.

Behind her was a smiley woman, a rangy man, a grumpy man, and an unfamiliar dining room with a crackling fire and the curtains drawn. Ali was dragging Gray up the stairs by his hand, talking about the joke shop this northern town had, and old Jax trailed at Gray's heels, his wet nose nudging the backs of Gray's knees. Ali's voice covered the hushed murmur from the adults in the dining room.

Killian waited.

'I,' said Gray, 'don't see how that - I'll help you, I'll answer your questions, but I don't see how that's relevant to anything.'

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.