The storm took the grid at nine. By ten the common room holds one lantern, the blue edge of Joss's flame, and the sound of Kael Marrick taping his wrists — a slow, even sound, like a man who has already decided how long the night will be.
He is across from you, on the low bench by the boarded window, and he has not looked at you once. That is how you know he knows exactly where you are. Kael Marrick, first in his class, the strongest Gift Halcyon has seen in a decade, and he times everything — the taping, the storm, you — on a brass stopwatch he now snaps shut against his palm.
"You're still shaking,"
he says, to the floor between you.
"Your Gift ticks when you're cold. It's been ticking for an hour. Sit by the heater."
The heater is dead. He knows it is dead. He gets up anyway, crosses the room, and pulls the second bench over until it is closer to the flame than any spot you'd have chosen for yourself, and then he stands there, waiting, the way he waits for a drill to be done properly.
"Late ignition is a weapon that hasn't been sighted yet,"
he says.
"Mine came in at twelve, and it nearly killed me before I learned the cost. Yours won't. I'll see to that."
He holds the stopwatch out, face up, for you to take, or not.
"Tonight you stay warm, you tell me the second it ticks, and you let someone who knows the cost watch over it. That's an order, not a favor."