“For he’s a jolly good fellow, for he’s a jolly good fellow, for he’s a jolly good feeellllloooow, and so say all of us!” Malcolm’s crew roared at the top of their lungs along with the rest of the tavern, who couldn’t help but join in with the familiar lyrics. Ben and Owen’s voices bellowed above the rest of them, their heavy hands each planted on one of Malcolm’s shoulders as they helped celebrate his thirtieth name day.

Some of them had just returned from Nejem a few days before and made a special trip to the capital from the docks to see that they could share in the occasion. Owen and Ben seemed particularly happy to be home, while the rest of the crew were just thankful to have a drink in hand. Ben sloshed his beer, having already sunk a few too many. His cheeks were red with cheer, eyes heavy and golden mane flat. He looked tired but in good spirits.

“Tell me all about Nejem,” Malcolm said, twisting to face his brother Owen who had just sat down.

“Nothing much to tell outside of the letters I sent,” Owen replied, “besides, I’m far more interested to hear what you did with your time while we were away.”

Malcolm’s shoulders sunk as he released a big sigh. “It was dock duty for me…”

“Pah!” Ben scoffed, “work far below your station.”

“What a drag,” Owen agreed. “Punishment for defying the Captain’s orders, aye?”

“Aye.” Malcolm nodded. “And I’d do it again.”

“Do what again!” Ben interrupted, loud and boisterous as he sat down.

“Defy the Captain,” Owen echoed.

Ben blew raspberries against his bare arm. The three of them laughed long and hard. “Fuck the Captain,” he said, “the whole trip was a complete waste of time, just like everything else he had us do. Why do you think we returned early?”

“To steer clear of Frost in the desert,” Owen murmured.

“... And to celebrate tonight with me, of course!” Malcolm teased.

Ben slipped a heavy arm about the man’s shoulders. “Don’t flatter yourself, brother,” he said.

Malcolm grinned. “Just you then Owen?”

“Don’t look at me!” Owen countered.

Katelyn sat down across from them on the other side of the bench style table. “Hello stranger,” she said, smiling. “The crew came together and got you something for your name day.”

She set a flat parcel down in front of him on the table, wrapped in an off white bit of cloth. Malcolm studied the woman for a moment, lips easing into a slow but genuine smile.

“You shouldn’t have,” Malcolm said.

“Oh we insisted,” Ben interjected.

Malcolm pulled the cloth away from the gift to reveal a soft leather pouch with a drawstring which was decorated with a simple silver bead on each end. Malcolm picked up the pouch and chuckled at the shape of it. “Is this—“

“The nut-sack of a camel?” Ben boasted. “Look, we even had them char your name on the side of it.”

Malcolm laughed, whole heartedly and covered his face with his freehand, looking at the gift between his fingers. “By the seven,” he said.

“More drink!” Ben called for the barmaid. “The birthday boy isn’t drunk enough yet.”

Lies. Lies that we tell ourselves. Lies that we hear and force ourselves to believe. All of the nagging doubts swept aside and the warnings that had been ignored. Lies accepted through desperation and the longing to believe that maybe, just maybe she deserved to be loved. Elyna stared into the mirror, at the puffy eyes and the tangled dark hair. The world had shattered around her and she had been forced to confront the lies. Her fingers curled around the edge of the washbasin as her legs buckled beneath her. Kneeling on the floorboards, with white-knuckled hands gripping the sink, she sobbed. When would the crying stop? When would she stop feeling hollow, as though everything that made her up had been stripped away and discarded. She felt as though she lived in a dream. Nothing was real anymore. She clung to the sink as if it could save her.

It was her own fault. Through Bloom and most of Blaze, she had truly allowed herself to believe the myriad layers of lies. She had dared to look to the future and to hope. It made the betrayal so much worse. She should have kept her distance, and the careful guard around her heart. She should have listened to the inner warning, that her relationship with Yvan was doomed to an eventual end. Instead, she had pushed that warning aside and trusted the man with her whole heart. Now where was she?

Her fingers slipped down from the basin and she rubbed her hands across her eyes. She sniffled and pushed her hands through her tangled hair. They’d returned from Nejem in the last few days. She’d walked blind from the docks to her rooms in the city. She had fallen into her bed and the passage of time had blurred. Elyna closed her eyes and steadied her breathing, though it came in uneven gulps and hiccups. It had been a hammering on her door that had woken her and a note slipped into the room.

E, I finish my shift at the ten-fold tonight. Meet you at the tavern. Get your arse out of bed. Emily.

What time was it? Elyna stood, legs still shaky as she moved across the room. She had a good friend. One who had left fresh bread on the table a few days ago. It was hard, stale and the crust was inedible but she managed to dig through and pick out the softer bread within. She needed to wash. She needed to eat. She needed to get out of her rooms.

Several hours later, Elyna Reyes slipped into the tavern. The room was already busy and she grimaced at the onslaught of noise. Her face was no longer puffy and eyes no longer red. Her hair had been washed, dried and left to hang down the centre of her back in a tumble of gentle curls. Her skin was bronzed from a long summer in the blazing heat of Nejem. Dusky freckles dusted her nose and cheeks. She wore a shirt of pale cream that contrasted against darker skin. Her brown breaches fit snug against her legs and were tucked into soft leather boots laced around her calves. Over her shirt, she wore a jacket of warm forest-green wool.

Elyna made her way through the crowd to the bar, prepared to wait for her friend. There was a bar stool, tucked into the corner and mostly hidden by the shadows. Perfect. She ordered a bowl of stew and was surprised at her own hunger. She ran bread around the edges to catch the final gravy and licked her fingers clean. Familiar voices broke through the crowd and Elyna scanned the mass for the faces she knew. There, Katelyn, Ben, Owen…Malcolm. She swallowed the uneasy lump in her throat. He was a good man but he always made her feel uneasy in her own skin. From a distance she watched the celebrations and smiled. It would still be a while before Emily arrived, the Skyrider was notoriously late.

The young woman chewed her lip and finally stood, brushing the last crumbs from her breaches as she made a final order at the bar. She moved through the room, weaving through the patrons until she reached the crew.

‘Good evening,’ she offered a friendly smile and a bright greeting, lifting her fingers in a shy wave to the group.

‘My congratulations, Sir. On your name day.’ Elyna grinned at the man and moved aside, allowing the bar keeper that had followed to set down a heavy tray on the table. ‘I heard you needed more drinks…’ The barman set out a fresh round of drinks on the table, enough for the crew to enjoy as she brushed long lock of hair behind her ear. Ben was laughing and the blonde man vacated a seat for her. Grateful, the woman sat and watched the dark-haired man before her.

‘I didn’t know what you would like,’ Elyna admitted and slid a number of drinks gently across the table top towards the name-day celebrant. A tall glass of red wine, a flagon of pale ale and a tumbler of whiskey were set out before him. Elyna picked up a glass of amber whiskey herself and held to up to the man in a toast, ‘to your good health,’ she held his gaze for a moment, hoping that he would believe that she was earnest. And also, in challenge. Would he join her toast? She drained the drink in a single attempt, just as Yvan had taught her. She didn’t want to cry anymore. She wanted to feel something, anything else. Anything other than the dull, hollow ache that had been left in her chest. Even if it was just the slow burn of liquor in her throat.

Malcolm cast his gaze about the tavern during a quiet moment and noticed Roland stood at one end of the place with a pretty girl under each arm. The knight couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, the evening was only young and already his comrades were up to their old tricks.

Olivia, Heath and Thomas were debating something at the table over and, when Thomas called out to Katelyn, she went to his side like an obedient dog. Malcolm had never quite understood their friendship, but in battle the two had proven to fight well together, side by side, which was all he could ask of any team.

Owen seemed a little restless, his eyes never fixed on anything or anyone for long and Malcolm had noticed whenever he addressed his younger brother, Owen seemed reluctant to make eye contact. Each of the crew members he had mentioned Nejem to had so far shrugged off his inquiries, which had caused Malcolm to believe something untoward had gone down during their time there.

He elbowed his brother’s side. “Is everything all right? You don’t quite seem yourself tonight.”

“I thought Av—I thought my friend might show,” Owen admitted. “Just keeping an eye out.”

Malcolm hummed, not sure that’s all it was. “I’m sure your friend will show soon enough. Tell me about the highlights of the last season or so?”

“Nothing to tell. It was hot during the day and freezing at night. I didn’t enjoy it and you didn’t miss anything,” Owen explained.

“That’s not true,” Malcolm said, “I feel as if I’ve missed a great deal.”

Owen finally looked the man in the eye. He smiled and even Malcolm was fooled for a spell. “I missed you too,” he said.

Malcolm returned the warm gesture and pat his brother on the back before he noticed Ben get up to offer his seat to a familiar face. “Reyes,” Malcolm said, his quiet tone fringed with an air of surprise. He hadn’t expected to see her, and perhaps, for a while, he had even allowed himself to forget her.

“All of them!” Ben encouraged the man.

Malcolm looked a little startled by that, having just realised that the selection of drinks which had accompanied the woman to the table were intended for him. “By the seven, no,” he said, “I’ve just finished a beer,” Malcolm admitted, as if to acknowledge how foolish it would be to mix drinks now.

Before he could protest any further, Ben pressed a finger of whiskey into his hand and told him to drink. Malcolm looked across the table to find Elyna had set the challenge and thought it would be rude to refuse. He downed the whiskey and made a face, sure the decision would haunt him. “I have to be at the docks early tomor—.”

“No you don’t!” Owen piped up, “we’ll see to that.”

Ben pushed the ale in front of him next and Malcolm shook his head. “No, no. I really must insist.”

“Do you hear that?” Ben asked Elyna, “sounds like…”

“Bawk, bawk, baawwwwkkk,” Owen squawked. “I think I hear it too!”

Malcolm laughed. He took the ale and had a sip.

“Oh thank the seven,” Ben said, “for a moment there I thought you’d traded your balls for a comb and a couple of fillets.”

Owen spat his drink and was forced to wipe his mouth before he could continue laughing. Malcolm choked on the sip of ale he had been half way through swallowing. He brushed a tear from the edge of his right eye and joined them in their fit of laughter.

“Sounds like the lot of you have already had too much to drink!” Katelyn called from the table over. “Somebody get these boys a horse!”

That didn’t help. Owen was quite sure whatever he hadn’t spat out had just come out his nose. He cupped his face and excused himself from the table in a terrible hurry, and made for the men’s room. Benjamin chuckled, “I better go see if he’s all right.”

Malcolm had just about caught his breath when he realised he had been left alone at the table with Reyes. He pushed his fingers through a mess of black curls and fixed his gaze on his drink after offering a passing smile to Elyna. “My brothers…” he said, as if there were no need to add any further context.

He wouldn’t ask Elyna how the trip to Nejem had been, having had no luck with the rest of the crew, so instead turned his thoughts to the future. “Has the Captain reassigned you all?” He asked, not sure what their next task would be. When it looked as if the woman were taking a moment to gather her thoughts or perhaps weasel out of answering the question directly, Malcolm chose to change the line of conversation. “How have you been?” He countered, finding it necessary to raise his voice with the increasing noise of the tavern. “Still working on your skill with a longsword?”

Elyna grinned across at the dark-haired man as he met her challenge. She had been uncertain what to expect from him. Their acquaintance the previous Frost had been brief and ended on what she could only consider to be a sour note. Although the brief correspondence they had exchanged had eased her conscience, it was hard to feel good about his absence from the crew.

Their glasses set down, Elyna extended her hand to a second whiskey, looking between the brothers as they argued and cajoled Malcolm. It was Ben’s crude description that made pause, drink in hand as she tried to decipher the meaning, before her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in embarrassed shock. She giggled, lifting a hand to hide her laughter. It was hard not to laugh with Ben and Owen. Of all the crew, with the brothers she felt most comfortable and accepted as part of the team.

Satisfied that she wasn’t going to choke, she sipped her whiskey, savouring the taste this time. The tavern was noisy, crowds bustling through, men and women pushing their way to the bar. Looking across at Malcolm she took another gulp of her drink. Leaning forward to hear his questions she tilted her head to the side. Why was it always so hard to meet his steadfast gaze? Was it because he was so earnest? Elyna looked up at the man and couldn’t help but wonder what he saw. She could only imagine he saw the worst, that she was a mess, an incompetent fool with the word whore emblazoned across her forehead.

Another sip and she drew her breath to answer, her gaze dropping to his jaw instead. Choosing to answer his questions in order, she set her drink down but moved the glass in slow circles. The liquid coated the inside of the glass, catching the candlelight from the rafters above.

‘The Captain mentioned the crew staying close to the city, perhaps with a trip to Venora later in the season.’ She passed on what little knowledge she possessed. Was this a test? Was she going to fail it? She paused for a moment, ‘he wants to be close to his Wife, which is understandable...she is expecting.’ She lent forward so she didn’t have to shout to be heard, but still had to raise her voice. The whole crew had been told. Leonide’s pregnancy was public knowledge. Malcolm should know if he didn’t already. The journey back had been hell. Yvan has insisted Leonide accompany them so she could be more comfortable in the cooler climate of Renmere. A pregnant woman, on a ship for 60 days. A jealous, pregnant woman who suspected every female of sharing a bed with her suddenly doting husband.

How had she been? Elyna looked up for a brief moment, alarmed as she searched his expression. Had he seen through her so easily? Elyna wet dry lips with the tip of her tongue and found herself taking another sip. She wanted to put talk of Yvan behind her. Before it broke her. 60 days of no space and no privacy. 60 days of living in a nightmare, forced to confront the truth. Yvan was married. He loved his wife. Every word uttered by his lips had been a lie.

‘I haven't been training as often as I would like,’ she admitted. ‘But I intend to change that, now that we’re home.’ Her training had waned in Nejem. Part of the misheld belief that maybe she was just about good enough. She had a lot of catching up to do.

Elyna drew a breath and forced herself to look up once more, gaze resting on the man’s cheek. ‘I’ve requested a transfer to the Skyriders. I will be rejoining then on the 35th.’ Finally she had made a decision. It felt like a good decision, the right decision. She would no longer burden the crew and no longer live within the reach and shadow of the Butcher.

‘My gift to you,’ she teased and forced a smile, ‘that I’ll no longer burden your roster.’

Elyna looked up once more. ‘How have you been?’

Malcolm listened to the woman’s account, surprised to hear that Leonide was expecting. He let his gaze find Thomas at the table over and watched the man for a spell, curious to know his thoughts, sure that if only he could draw his eye, he might be able to read whatever thoughts lay beyond glassy blue orbs. That explains the letter, Malcolm thought, a summons from the king himself to return to Yvan’s service. There were things Reyes and the rest of the crew were not privy to, there were secrets even Leonide kept from her husband and son, knowledge Malcolm wished he could cast from his mind.

Elyna asked how he had been. Malcolm blinked, an attempt to buy a moment of time to reflect on the simple question. His mind had been elsewhere, selfish, he realised, given that he had asked the exact same of her. How long had it been? Almost a year since he had seen her last. What had transpired in those few short seasons? He had wintered in the mountains before being summoned to the capital to perform his duties as a knight, taking up work on the docks and King’s Road.

“I feel as if I’ve spent more time in the saddle during the last three seasons than I have in all of my years on this earth,” he admitted.

There was something tired and all-together worn out about the look he gave her, as green eyes met her gaze and the right side of his mouth was turned up in a half smile. The realisation seemed to strike the man all of the sudden, all of the hours and mundane tasks, all of the travel and confrontations with strangers, the documentation and sleepless nights. What am I doing with the best years of my life? Malcolm seemed to ask himself, the subtle pinch in his brow alluded to as much.

“The work of a recruit,” he added. Far below his station indeed.

He couldn’t share the news of the letter with Elyna, or celebrate his promotion with his brothers. Such things were official business that were to be kept secret until ceremonies could be performed in the spring. Until then he had all of Harvest to put up with Yvan’s orders, followed by what he could only hope would be a winter of peaceful bliss. For tonight, he could drown his sorrows and forget that the day after tomorrow, he would be on the road to stand guard at the Captain’s manor, ready to abide each and every whim of a very pregnant Leonide.

Malcolm turned his head to look at Thomas once more before he made light work of the ale in his cup.

“The crew will be sorry to see you go,” he said, “as will I.”

‘You’re very kind to say so,’ Elyna smiled at the man, her eyes narrowed playfully as she finished her drink. ‘But we both know it’s not true.’ There was no bitterness to her words or tone. Only the simply understanding that even after a year with the crew, she was not accepted within them. As for Malcolm himself, she doubted he felt anything but relief that he wouldn’t have such a trouble maker in the crew. His life would be easier. It had been her own fault, Elyna knew. What had she been thinking to join the command of her illicit lover? Had she been thinking at all? Among the grief and the anger she felt, Elyna was also aware of painful clarity. She’d been a fool and all the world knew it.

The young women picked up a third glass of whiskey and saw Malcolm’s ale topped up. She twisted a long lock of hair around her fingertips, her gaze moving fixed absently on the man’s collar. Perhaps it was just the whiskey but she felt more relaxed in his company than their previous encounters. He seemed almost unhappy though, at least dissatisfied with his own year.

‘What do you do, when you’re not working?’ Elyna rested her elbow on the table, propping her chin in the palm of her hand. ‘What would you do for fun?’ She continued her inquiry. It was his name-day. Surely there was some small success or pleasure the man should be celebrating? Though the question was ironic, beyond her own work with the Iron Hand, Elyna knew that she lacked anything that could be considered a life. But that was different, her life was different.

Elyna thought him kind, but kindness had never been his intention. Truth, loyalty, and fairness, these were the pillars of his ideal form of leadership. Kindness, despite all its charm, was an unintentional side-effect. Malcolm thought on the woman’s question for a time, taking a moment to consider what he had done between now and the last time he had seen any of the crew a year ago.

“I’m sorry,” Malcolm said. By the sound of it, Elyna’s time with the crew had not been improved by their trip to Nejem. Perhaps if he had been there, he thought, maybe he could have helped somehow. “My brothers always speak very highly of you and your efforts. Respect is hard earned as a knight,” he offered by way of explanation. “More often than not the job requires us to swallow our pride and carry on, regardless of what we think or feel.”

The knight took a sip of the fresh ale and drummed the fingers of his free hand against the table. “I think you’re searching for something you’re yet to find, Elyna Reyes… I hope you earn your wings and find in the clouds what you failed to on land.”

Benjamin and Owen had returned just in time, it seemed, to meet up with the friend his younger brother had been expecting. Malcolm shot a look their way as they appeared to make a decision to leave the tavern together. A tight knot formed at the centre of his brow as he raised his hand to try and get Ben’s attention. The golden haired man wandered over and bid Elyna farewell before turning to Malcolm.

“Sorry we aren’t staying,” Benjamin said, “Owen’s friend has invited us out.”

“Out where?” Malcolm asked.

“Out,” Ben said, as he gave Malcolm the look. “You should come,” he offered.

Malcolm knew what that look meant. “I’ll pass,” he said.

Benjamin waged his brow playfully at the pair before darting to the door. “Suit yourself!” Were his parting words.

Malcolm seemed to retreat within himself for a second. He hadn’t seen his brothers in the longest time… and all they could think about were women. A small sigh passed his lips. He was quite sure they were tired of his modesty, but he had no intentions of spending his thirtieth name day making sure everyone else was enjoying themselves.

“I might get home,” he suggested to Elyna, “before I forget which way home is. Are you waiting on anyone?” He asked, “would you like me to escort you anywhere?”

Elyna tilted her head to one side, brows drawn together as he apologised. She stretched her arms across the table and let out the breath that had been held. Never, not once had she let the crew see how their treatment affected her. She had carried on, quiet, stoic and worked hard without complaint. It would never have been enough. Not when she was in Yvan’s pocket. There was none to blame but herself.

The woman looked up then, as he mentioned his brothers. ‘Your brothers were never anything except welcoming,’ she explained. Elyna lent forward again, earnest and paused when he continued. Something like butterflies flickered in the depths of her stomach, though it could have just been the whiskey. Still, she smiled at Malcolm. ‘I just want to serve. I want to be of use,’ she admitted. ‘I can do that better from the skies…’ unable to hold his gaze any longer Elyna finished her drink and turned to examine the nearest patrons.

It was hard to miss Ben and Owen as they returned. Watching the pair she found herself looking between them and Malcolm. The whiskey had made the world a little fuzzy, warm and almost comfortable. Some of the dull empty ache of loss had faded, drowned out by the loud tavern cacophony of voices and music. She lifted her hand to greet Benjamin before picking up the final glass on the table. The red wine, she sniffed the rich liquid and took a tentative sip allowing the brothers to converse without a third wheel.

Scanning the patrons, she wrinkled her nose. Still no sign of Emily. It was later than the Skyrider usually was, but then her friend had a terrible habit of forgetting appointments completely. Eventually she turned back to Malcolm, wondering what expression crossed his features as he watched his brothers depart. Was it regret? Where were Ben and Owen going? From the look on Malcolm’s face she wasn’t sure he approved.

His offer came as a surprise. The air was filled with the sounds and smells of the tavern, stale ale and the bubble of laughter as the night wore on. Elyna studied the man again. ‘I was waiting for a friend but I don’t think she’s coming…’

At that the woman stood and smiled at the man before her. ‘It’s your name day,’ she reminded him and extended a hand. ‘I insist you do something that you want to, that you enjoy…’ she encouraged and nodded her head towards the door. ‘The night is young,’ she grinned ‘we could visit the library, or dance, or watch the stars, anything you like!’ She wracked her brains for some kind of suitable celebration. ‘At the very least,’ she tilted her head to the side again, ‘I’ll see you leaving here with a decent bottle of wine?’ Name days were special. They deserved attention and there had been something almost lonely in his expression that made her eager to brighten his day.

Elyna had let her arms fall across the table and on reaction alone, Malcolm had covered one of her hands with his own. The gesture was brief and short lived. He would not forget himself, not so soon and with only a few drinks to blame. She offered up the suggestion that they go somewhere to do something he enjoyed, but refused to do so without purchasing a bottle of wine first.

While Elyna was at the bar, Malcolm went to gather his things. He pulled a heavy black cloak over his shoulders, latched to the silver wolf heads on either side of his black leather tabard just below each shoulder. Once his glovers were on the man seemed to all but disappear, a tall dark figure in desperate need of a haircut and a shave. He scratched the light smattering of black stubble on his jaw and made his way out into the warm autumn air, a second cloak folded over his left arm.

A web of wolf pelts he wore more for decoration than warmth, was offered up to Elyna who then caught up with him outside. He exchanged the cloak for the bottle and helped unfurl it before setting it down across her shoulders. A gloved hand swept her long, dark wavy hair away from her back to rest atop the coarse fur. He could not feel her hair through his glove, but the way his fingers fell away from it with such ease, even while dressed in leather, led him to assume it was very soft.

They walked down the cobblestone street for a time, talking, with no destination in mind, when Malcolm admitted something. “You might find this strange,” he said, “I know I do… but I'm not so sure what I do for fun anymore. Fun seems like a toy I put down as a child and never looked back on.”

He had been forced to grow up far before his time, the moment his parents had passed away and he had been left to fend for his younger brother. A proposal he had accepted before he was even free of his teen years, and the duty of raising a son who, biologically, had not been his own. Malcolm had bore the shame of a nation under the name Krome, which perhaps was why he felt so at ease around Elyna, who seemed to know nothing of his quiet shame.

The night may have been early, but home was a long ride from the city gates and Malcolm currently kept no rooms at the barracks. “I shouldn’t keep you,” he said then, as if he had set aside the idea of the night having anymore to offer them. “My place is closer to the coast than the city and if I don’t make my way now, I’ll be racing the sun.” He teased.

Malcolm stopped in the street and looked down into Elynas eyes. She had a way of smiling with her eyes even when no smile touched her lips. “Let me walk you to the barracks?” He offered.

The light touch of his palm against the back of her hand was a surprise, but a welcome one. Perhaps, she could make a friend in the crew after all. Maybe she wasn’t doomed to forever be an outsider to the rest of the world. His agreement proved a further surprise, one that had her grinning with sudden delight. She had whisked away to the bar, diving between the patrons and slipping into the small spaces that few others could fit.

Bottle in hand she stepped into the cool night air and looked up at a cloudless sky. Outside the world felt muffled, quiet and almost subdued after the noise of the tavern. She drew a deep breath and turned, looking up as the cloak was set against her shoulder. Perhaps he had remembered how easily she got cold. Harvest didn’t bring the same chill as Frost, especially so early in the season, but Renmere was a far cooler climate to Nejem and there hadn’t yet been time to adjust.

‘Thank you,’ she breathed the words catching as his fingers moved through her hair. Eyes wide, she swallowed the sudden nerves that tightened her throat and instead twisted on her toes and accompanied the man down the street. He looked wilder than she remembered, with his stubble and long hair. Had he been so neat before? Was she just remembering wrong?

Their conversation was a light murmur until he paused. She turned to face the man, head tilted to the side. Elyna ran her fingers down the freckled bridge of her nose.

‘I uh...no,’ she exhaled. ‘I never had much time for games or toys…’ she admitted before looking down the street. Her hours had been carefully managed, always. Still, she remained a disappointment. Elyna exhaled, ‘wasn’t really many folk to uh...well to befriend.’ She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. ‘Except Emily, my skyrider who didn’t show tonight,’ she grinned ruefully to herself before shaking her head. There was no changing the past. No changing the future. The present was her gift.

Malcolm made his excuses and she looked up at him once more, bold with the whiskey in her blood. She grinned again before shaking her head. Fun…

Spontaneous she turned suddenly and started to end down the empty street, pausing half way to look back at the man. ‘You’ll have to race me!’ She called, teasing and still trying to keep her voice low enough not to disturb any sleepers. She laughed and twisted, sprinting off again, though the cloak was heavy and slowed her steps.

“Race you?” The man asked, looking a little perplexed by the challenge. “Race you where?”

Elyna wasn’t waiting to explain, which forced the man to give chase. He took the bottle in hand and raced to catch up with Enlya, who was, at the same time, attempting to put distance between them.

Malcolm wasn’t sure the alcohol and stew he had eaten prior to the consumption of beer, whiskey and ale, was a good mix on top of running. He had worked a full day shift, travelled to the city at the end of it and left his horse down at the barrack stable in Lowtown. Still, once the man had committed to beating Elyna, his much taller frame and athletic build made it all too easy to shoot past her.

He stopped at the end of the long cobblestone street and turned to look back at the woman, hair a mess of wayward curls and cheeks flushed with the sudden onslaught of exercise. When Elyna ran past him to continue on down another lane, Malcolm chuckled to himself and chose to give chase once more.

It wasn’t long before a familiar arch came into sight, one formed by vines and well maintained hedging. Two stone cherubs stood guard of the unassuming entrance way that led into a community garden which backed onto the University. He had wandered through the hedge maze some years prior and found himself lost amongst a sea of high green walls fringed with sweet smelling jasmine.

Malcolm slowed and walked through the archway to find Elyna had stopped at the first turn. He held up the bottle and smiled. “I don’t know why I’m chasing you. I’m the one with the bottle of wine.”

Almost instantly she started to regret her challenge, stew and a lot of whiskey gurgled in her stomach, not to mention her natural competitiveness. It was all too clear from the outset who was going to win the race. Still, the flood of energy and adrenaline was exhilarating. Was this fun? To do something random and spontaneous, to be free? She couldn’t stop smiling as the tall man sped past. It was time to change the rules.

Heart thumping in her chest she forced herself to dash past, laughing as she went. The road led to an unfamiliar garden. Without pausing she darted through an arch and onto the path ahead before she came to a stop. She could feel grass beneath her boots instead of cobblestone and turned slowly in the dim light to examine her surroundings. Her breath came in uneven gasps as she tried to stop giggling. But it was too absurd. Malcolm stepped under the arch and she smiled at him.

She hid her laughter behind her hand before turning to look around. There was a small bench set into a recess and she gestured the man to follow her. Dropping down on the stone she stared up at the man. Though her stomach didn’t quite agree, she didn’t regret their silly race.

‘Well it’s only fair that you share,’ Elyna grinned before hiccuping. ‘Or maybe not,’ she shook her head. ‘Whiskey, running and wine might be a step too far.’ She admitted.

‘Where are we?’ Elyna asked quietly, peering at the foliage walls that surrounded them. The University wasn’t somewhere she knew well or would recognise in the dark. She’d visited once or twice in daylight but only to the large library. Autumn stars twinkled overhead. She smelt the flowers and the slight mulch of leaves that had turned and fallen from the trees. Someone, somewhere was baking an apple pie. Sniffing the air she could smell cinnamon, and nutmeg.

Malcolm took up the space beside Elyna on the bench seat and put the bottle of wine down on a flat piece of ground beside it, choosing to put it out of sight and mind for now. “I don’t think wine is a good idea,” he said, and Elyna seemed to agree.

He leaned back against the white wood of the bench seat and looked up at the stars. “We are on the University grounds,” Malcolm said, “the very outer edge of it. The garden takes up a good twenty acres with this maze alone.” He wasn’t sure why he had recalled such a fact or which book he had read it in. “I got lost in here once and following that experience, decided to educate myself on how to work one’s way through a maze,” he admitted, a coy smile suggesting he found the memory quite mortifying to recount.

Malcolm enjoyed a moment of easy silence before he lifted his arms to fold them, the move subtle, hands tucked against his sides. This winter would mark the eighth anniversary of Vanessa’s death. Eight years he mused to himself, as if just sitting alone in another woman’s company was a betrayal to her memory, to the short life they had shared together. Malcolm’s insides squeezed, though he could not be sure if it were the stray thought, the race, the alcohol, or a mixture of all three.

He wasn’t exactly sure what Yvan and Elyna had shared, but he knew that Leonide’s pregnancy must seem like a small death to love all of its own. Knowing Yvan, the man had cast aside his affairs to dote on the woman. He had wanted children with her for many years, that much Malcolm knew having lived in his service for so long, though the two of them had never been successful in that. Malcolm knew it meant nothing to Reyes now, but in the coming seasons she would be thankful that it was not she who was to bear the Butcher’s babe.

“I think you’ll like the Skyriders,” he said. “But a small part of me will always regret that things did not work out for you with the crew.”

Elyna ran her fingers down the bridge of her nose as she listened, sharing a smile with the man as he admitted his mistake. Twenty acres was a large maze, she had no doubt that any number of people would get lost in it. From his expression it was clear Malcolm didn’t like to make mistakes, did anyone? Yet he had made sure he wouldn’t make the same error twice. She chewed on her bottom lip and leant forward, peering down the empty grass path and into the depths of the maze.

‘I wonder if someone is lost in there now?’ She wondered quietly, ‘I wouldn’t like to be caught between those high walls,’ she shivered and looked back at the archway, the exit. Reassured that it was still in sight the woman let out an uneven breath. Too often she felt trapped, as though she lived in a maze made of stone. One she didn’t understand and had no chance of solving.

Elyna stretched out her legs, crossing them at the ankles. Her hands rested between her knees as she watched the hedge in the moonlight. The evergreen leaves were waxy, shiny. They swayed in the light breeze that tickled the back of her neck. Time passed quietly, comfortably and she realised that she was staring ahead, without really seeing anything. Drinking, racing and laughing had all been a distraction. But in a single moment of peace the aching sense of loss returned. A silent tear tracked a path down each cheek before being dashed away with the back of her right hand. The movement disguised as she stood up. She hoped that Malcolm hadn’t noticed. Elyna wasn’t one to cry in public. But with the whiskey warming her insides, knew that if she didn’t get control of her tears, then she would be reduced to a sobbing heap. Once the tears started again, who knew when they would stop? No matter who saw.

The corner of her mouth pulled into a smile as he broke the silence. She moved across the path to reach out and touch the natural walls that surrounded them. She ran her fingers over a leaf, holding it gently. It was as soft and smooth as she had expected it to be.

‘It’s not their fault,’ Elyna admitted. I was such a fool, she thought, such a fool to believe so many lies. Because Yvan risked so much to be with her, she had thought it meant love. Desire, lust...whatever he had found in her it hadn’t been love, couldn’t be. Love couldn’t hurt this much. Could it?

‘I don’t-’ she held her tongue and looked down. ‘I’ve wasted so much of it, trying to be something that I am not.’ It was only be pure grace and a miracle that her Mother hadn’t found a match for her hand already. Of that much, Elyna was certain. A year she had spent with the knights instead of in the skies. Nobles didn’t marry until Blaze. Maybe all she would have was from now until then. Maybe it was all she deserved. She wasn’t going to waste anymore time trying to please a man by surrendering her dreams.

‘Who would you be?’ She looked across at the man, ‘if you could be anyone? Even if...if just for a season, or a night?’

Elyna stood up, a move that begged the man’s attention. He unfolded his arms and set gloved hands against the seat on either side of him, ready to rise if her next move called for such. However, Reyes remained close, even if she did not meet his eye, he couldn’t help but notice. Was it something he had said? Something he had done?

“Who would I be?” Malcolm smiled, the answer seemed simple, at least it was for him. “Myself, only I would take more time to spend with my family,” he said.

A knight's work was very demanding, but Elyna knew that. “I would not wish my life away,” he added, “not for a second, but I do look forward to Frost and the rest it brings.” The winter break was always his favourite time of year.

The leather of his gloves sighed as he pushed away from the bench seat to stand. Malcolm couldn’t help but feel the woman’s question reflected some internal struggle of the mind. Did she feel trapped, he wondered, was that why her soul seemed so restless? What had she done before joining Yvan’s crew? Where had she come from and why did she seem so lost?

“They have signs throughout the maze,” Malcolm said. “I’m not sure if they are new or if they had always been there… but sometimes when we lose our heads, due to fear or panic, we fail to see the obvious, what’s right in front of us,” he added. “Don’t beat yourself up for taking a side step on your journey to becoming a Skyrider. Once upon a time I thought I would grow old teaching history and language right here in the city. Instead… Well I’m doing this. We all get lost in the maze sometimes.”

The resounding toll of the city clock marked the eleventh fold, which saw Malcolm bend to collect the wine bottle. As he straightened he noticed Reyes thumb a tear from her cheek. He fell quiet, fingers closed about the neck of the bottle. There was a hollow feeling in his chest, an emptiness akin to sorrow, at least the type he had known. She was in pain, he thought, her heart ached with loss and she did not know who she was without the love that loss had taken with it.

With his free hand, he took one of Elyna’s and closed her fingers around the bottle. “I think you need this more than me,” he said, “just promise me you’ll use it to celebrate something good, perhaps your first mission as a Skyrider or…” he went quiet for a spell as he considered something else that might be worth celebrating. “Your first house.” He smiled. Reyes had worked for the knights a while now, surely she had some money tucked away for that. “You’ll find something good, just promise me that.”

Elyna paused to listen to the man’s response. It was hard not to smile at him when he wanted such simple things from life. He was content and happy in himself, wanting only more time with the people he loved.

‘They missed you,’ she spoke quietly, it felt like a secret that wasn’t really hers to share. ‘I know they give you a hard time but your brothers missed you in Nejem.’ But with the family seeming so close, perhaps it wasn’t a secret after all. Still, she couldn’t forget his expression as he’d watched Owen and Ben slip away from the tavern. Something had held him back from their company? ‘Well,’ she added with a smile, ‘come Frost I hope you can spend all the time you wish with your loved ones.’

He stood and she found herself strangely apprehensive. She shifted her weight as she stood in the neatly trimmed grass. Who would she be? She wondered, if given the choice? Elyna Reyes...a woman able to make her own choices and forge her own path. Bennett spoke of signs and she reached out to the hedge wall once more, running her fingers over the leaves and twigs.

Signs were well enough, if they weren’t wilfully ignored. She had known. She had known better. From every brief encounter that she’d experienced with Malcolm Bennett, everything in her screamed that he was a good and decent man. Would he truly be so forgiving if he knew the depths of her stupidity? She had ruined her family name and destroyed the future her mother had worked so hard for. She had been entirely selfish and even so close to the end, Elyna felt disgusted with herself. She drew a breath and let herself be pulled back to the present. Bennett had a way of doing that, of drawing her away from her own thoughts.

A teacher? He had mentioned that before. She smiled once more and let out the air trapped in unwilling lungs. Perhaps as Malcolm said, he was also lost. If that were true, then maybe there was some good to be found in being lost as he described.

‘The classroom’s loss, has been our gain,’ she told him earnestly. Perhaps there was something that she had gained in the last year too. Maybe it hadn’t been a complete waste?

With Malcolm collecting the wine, she took the opportunity to dash away a final tear that had fallen, unwelcome. His hand curled around hers and she found the air had vanished around them. He was too kind, too thoughtful and generous. Elyna nearly laughed at his suggestion of buying a house. Her existence as Elyna Reyes was only temporary. What purpose was there in a house or putting down roots… but why not? Even if she did marry, then it would be an investment! It would be something that was hers. Something they couldn’t take from her.

‘Maybe I will,’ she murmured to herself. His hand felt warm against her bare fingers, even through his gloves. She curled her second over his and finally looked up to meet his rich green gaze.

Her features had been drawn with thought but softened with a smile. The wine bottle was pressed gently back against his chest. ‘I can’t accept this, it’s bad luck to return a gift…’ she made up the superstition and pressed her teeth against her bottom lip as she held his gaze. ‘But you have given me a greater gift, and one I promise to celebrate,’ she searched his expression.

‘This is your night.’ She has been trying to entertain the man, not pull him into her own despair.

“Well, I would never wish to invite bad luck,” he said, “not willingly. In such a case, I’ll promise to merely hold onto it, so that when you’re ready to celebrate something, we can share it together.” Malcolm found himself smiling at the woman, one of those smiles that was all too easy to wear in her presence.

After wandering out into the lane once more, Malcolm chose to put the journey home out of mind. What was a few long hours on horseback after a good night anyway. The walk down to Lowtown reminded him of a previous shift they had worked together, Elyna’s first. Just as he had suggested that very night, they stuck to the main road and the most well lit paths.

Malcolm had found it easier to inquire about the good times in Nejem after the women had revealed how much his brothers had missed him. He laughed about the sand, sure he had warned her about such, and reminisced on the time he had once spent in the desert city. “Blaze must have been unbearable,” he said, “I’ll never forget the time I spent there. I bet you can better understand why they don’t wear armor.”

When they reached the barracks, Malcolm paused near the gates and hesitated, as if he had more to say, but knew their time together had come to an end. He settled on a few parting words. “You will flourish with the Skyriders, I’m quite sure of that. I know that if you even work half as hard for them as you did for the knights, you won’t fail.” He straightened, arms held behind his back, hands gripping the bottle. “Do write, Reyes…”

Malcolm nodded after that and turned to head towards the stables where his horse and a long journey home awaited him.

Pleased that he had accepted the wine, Elyna knew better than to push her luck. With it secured safely in his grip, she let her own hands gently fall away and back to her sides.

‘I’ll hold you to that,’ she grinned, ‘I have a plan...and I’ll let you know when it has come to fruition.’ The woman promised. A house, a home of her own. Somewhere that she could hide, even when her mother had married her off.

It had been a day that started with despair but she felt, for the first time in seasons a thread of hope. One that she knew was owed to the man before her. Elyna found herself looking across at the man as they made their journey back through the main city streets. The city streets were quiet, with only a few other folk walking under the moon.

She was all to happy to recount her experiences of Nejem and share them with the Knight. Laughing at his own stories. She had loved Nejem and shook her head when he mentioned the heat of Blaze. ‘I liked it,’ she protested with a smile, ‘what would be the point in exploring the world, if every place was the same?’ She wrapped her arms around her chest as they walked, unable to stop the easy smile that crossed her features. ‘I can understand the lack of armour, I tried on a metal helmet one afternoon. It felt like I was cooking my head in a saucepan.’

‘We didn’t see any giant sand creatures,’ she shuddered, ‘for that I am very glad. I’m not fond of even little snakes...as for the sand,’ she shook her head. ‘I think I’m going to be finding sand for weeks, just when I think I’ve swept it all away…’

Too soon they returned to the familiar landscape of the barracks. At the gates that led into the main courtyard, she heard Malcolm’s steps slow and her heart took up an uneasy rhythm. Turning to face the man, she forced herself to look up at him. Why did she feel so nervous? As though her stomach was tied in a knot.

‘Thank you,’ Elyna replied, ‘I will try…’ at a loss for what to do with her hands she held them tight together and merely nodded at the suggestion that she write. It was rare that she put ink to page, but she would make an effort if requested. She lingered in the shadow of the wall and watched the Knight retreat.

What if he didn’t make it home safely? Her jaw clenched tightly. He’d mentioned a long journey. She could offer him a place to stay? But what if someone saw? What if he said no? What if he said yes?! Uncertainty kept her unable to move until she forced herself to sprint.

She closed the distance, ‘Ser!’ Elyna called quietly and slid to a stop. ‘You forgot this,’ trembling fingers caught on the cloak as she unfastened it and pulled it carefully free. Elyna folded the material and offered it to the man. ‘It might get cold on the journey…’ she added.

Elyna looked back at the gate before staring up at the dark-haired man. ‘Owen and Ben would never forgive me if something happened to you.’ She spoke in a rush, ‘it’s a long journey back and it’s so late already…’ she tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. ‘You-you could stay.’ Her cheeks burnt, ‘you must think the worst of me,’ she laughed nervously, ‘I mean I could make you a bed on the floor and with your cloaks will keep you warm,’ she stammered over the words and threaded her hand through her hair, holding her hand to her head. ‘Or I could stay at Emily’s,’ she thought suddenly and found it easier to meet his gaze. Her reputation would be ruined if anyone saw him, and yet the invitation lingered.

‘I’m sorry,’ she found herself staring at his left ear and forced herself to breathe. ‘Forget Owen and Ben, if something happened...I don’t know how I would forgive myself for delaying your journey home this evening.’

She waited for his inevitable refusal and wished the world would swallow her where she stood. What by the Seven was she thinking?!

Malcolm, startled, turned around to find Elyna had hurried after him, cloak in hand and ready to palm off. How strange, the man thought, that he would forget something so dear to his person. “My brothers and I hunted these wolves,” he explained, “on one of our first missions. I paid to have the furs treated and Benjamin’s—Anna put them together for me.”

He fell silent as her offer was extended. Stay? He couldn’t believe he had considered it and fought himself to give a reply before a lack of one answered for him. “I couldn’t do that,” he said, already donning the fur cloak, his mind long made up.

Did she not have a reputation to repair, he found himself pondering. The barracks were a busy place with knights coming and going just as often by moonlight as they did sun up. Still, he knew there was no agenda to the woman’s offer, that she was only concerned for his safety, as she had stated.

“You,” he said, and gave pause, what was he trying to say? “Are more than welcome to accompany me back to my place closer to the coast. It’s nothing fancy, an old farmhouse at best, but there is a second room and…” He stopped himself there.

Malcolm closed his eyes and smiled. The gesture seemed almost shy or embarrassed, as if he had caught himself in the midst of saying something stupid and lived to regret it. He lowered his voice after finding sense.

“I have a lot to do tomorrow and I’m not sure when I’ll next have a free day. I could use an extra pair of hands. Perhaps you could ride out with the sun, if the day is your own?” He corrected himself.

Malcolm pushed black waves of hair back from his face and shifted his weight to his back foot. He hadn’t forgotten how much he had liked Reyes in those early days and what had transpired since then. There was no reason to forget himself now, just because he feared their paths had run out of crossroads. Still it was easy to daydream about her disappearing to gather a few things while he went on ahead to the stables to ready their horses, just as he had that very first night. It was the alcohol, he told himself, there was no need to ruin the pleasant evening they had shared.

“Goodnight, Reyes,” he said, firm, but was unable to meet her eye.

Elyna didn’t dare to look up as he finally broke the uncomfortable silence. Her face burnt with embarrassment, her hands were slick with sweat and she gripped them together until her nails bit into her palms. His offer in turn was a shock and her eyes widened. Had she forgotten to breathe again? The woman felt dizzy, as though the world was tipping away beneath her feet.

He seemed almost shy and she shifted uneasily where she stood. The cobblestones slick beneath her feet. When he continued, she wasn’t sure if he had meant to offer or not. If he had a lot to do, she didn’t want to get in the way. But if he needed an extra pair of hands… questions rose and we’re held on her tongue. Was she mad? The next day was her own, but what would it mean to go and spend it with the man before her?

Elyna drew a deep breath and found herself looking at the ground. It couldn’t mean anything. Then, as she stood on the cusp in indecision, he dismissed her. Her thoughts had run away with her, she could just grab a few things from her rooms and meet him in the stables...but the offer was withdrawn with a sense of finality.

Another inhale and she steadied herself. ‘I have an early start…’ she lied to save them both the embarrassment. His offer had been as harmless as her own. They were friends, acquaintances and that was all. He had given his answer and he would ride home. She could not follow. Especially with the invitation so quickly withdrawn.

Elyna moved forward carefully and rested her hand on the man’s chest for balance. She swallowed her nerves and rose onto her toes, if only to press a kiss to the man’s cheek. He smelt like the wilds, like whiskey and woodsmoke.

‘Goodnight, Bennett.’ She withdrew and stepped back, hand falling to her side once more. ‘Be safe, please? Happy Name Day.’ Elyna forced a final smile and took another step back. Retreating into the shadows before finally she could turn her back on the man and was forced to look over her shoulder as she lifted her hand in a final wave.

Four hours sleep was all the man had gotten before rising for the new day. He rolled over in the double bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his mind quick to contemplate how different the evening might have been if he had chosen to stay in the city. Still, there was work to be done and Malcolm was not the kind of man to let it wait, especially seen as his free time was so limited.

The knight’s uniform was traded for his work clothes and, in place of a sword, he took up a pair of garden pruners. He went outside and harnessed his horse before leading the mare to the wagon. Once attached, the pair walked the length of the grounds to collect the crates he kept in the lean-to and started the mammoth task of harvesting the grapes from the many rows of vines that stretched from one end of the property to the other.

It was hard, honest work, but there was something Malcolm found relaxing about the mindless task of cutting bunches of grapes from the vines and loading them into crates. He brushed the odd spider from his gloves that had made a home for itself in the vines and bent to make sure nothing had been left behind. Every single grape was destined for the capital, at least until the day he had the time, money and energy to process the wine for himself. Had his farm been located in Venora, this might have been different, but living closer to the coast meant choosing the shortest route possible to fetch the best price.

The man had aspersions, of course, wanting his wine to be counted as some of the best in the world. For now it was sold under a different brand by an individual who had nothing to do with the growing, tending or harvesting of the grapes. Malcolm had never pictured the work for himself, but years of working and fighting alongside the Baron of Warrick had convinced him that grape vines were a profitable source of income, perhaps even profitable enough to fund his other ventures, that of building up the village of Mayce.

The vines were looking a bit overgrown and the yield was less than expected. Jared had promised to accompany Malcolm back to the farm before the end of Frost when the naked vines, stripped of their leaves by the winter chill, would be perfect for pruning. It was then he would show Malcolm how to train the new canes into branches which he promised would yield a far better crop. During the time Malcolm had been watching the vines grow, the prospect of learning from a professional had been the most exciting for him.

By lunchtime Malcolm was quite sure he was not to expect the pleasure of Reyes’s company, and got to work on loading the wagon in a more organised fashion. He had started with the far end of the field to make sure the work closer to home was saved for last, where he could then finish the day on an easy note and have all of the grapes sent to the capital to arrive before the following morning’s market. He would trust his contact to fetch a fair price, if not the best for this time of season, given the market in the neighbouring territory was flooded with quality produce. Once he had his own bottled wine, he thought, he would be able to sit on it and wait until the markets right across the country and beyond, were crying out for wine. He could pick and choose when to sell then and, for now, would just have to make do.

When the sun dipped down below the horizon, Malcolm was surprised to find he hadn’t quite gotten as far through the crop as he had allowed time for. His shirt was wet with sweat and his stomach was complaining of how little food he had put in it. He lit the torches along the boundary of the house and went inside to boil some rice. It was a poor excuse for a meal, especially dinner, but without taking the time to make a loaf of bread that morning, it was the only long life food he had in storage in the whole house that the mice hadn’t gotten to first.

Malcolm ate the large bowl of flavourless rice and rinsed up before heading back out into the field. He had about two hours left before his contact would show to help load the grapes in with the lot that was headed for the city. He picked up the pace, ignoring the ache in his shoulders and the strain in his back. His feet were on fire in his boots, but that was nothing compared to the long marches he had suffered through in his younger years as a knight. It would make the ride to the Captain’s house all the more painful before dawn, but the promise of rest after that spurred him on.

“How many crates?” Cillian asked, after climbing down from his wagon.

“Fifteen rows… and about nine creates a row. There should be about one hundred and thirty-five crates,” Malcolm replied.

Cillian helped him count the crates as they were unloaded from one wagon onto the next. “One fifty-two,” he said at the end of it, “not bad for your first real harvest.”

“Not bad at all,” Malcolm agreed.

“Your vines will need cutting,” Cillian explained, “just wait until late Frost or your vines will bleed to death.”

Malcolm looked a little startled by that. “Oh?”

“Yes, it's a big mistake made by far too many who are new to farming grapes.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that,” Malcolm said.

“You did all of this work by yourself today?” Cillian asked.

“Aye,” Malcolm agreed.

“I suggest you invest in some help,” Cillian said, “save your back.”

Malcolm nodded. “I will once I start expanding, next season perhaps.”

Cillian climbed up onto his own wagon. He brushed his dark hair back from his face and sat down, his thin frame lost in his baggy clothing and large cloak. “Until next harvest,” he said.

“Until then,” Malcolm agreed.