She was muttering under her breath at the book when Malone stopped by later that day. He smiled at her as he eased gingerly into the place beside her. It was a warm expression, but a weary one. Like the first time she’d opened her eyes and seen the two men, Malone still seemed like a kind, elderly gentleman but she didn’t trust him any more than she trusted Rook. What was he doing mixed up in the necromancer’s schemes if he weren’t a snake himself? Malone rubbed at his elbow, looking up at the sun with a faraway look in his eyes. Rook’s modest courtyard gave a lovely, shaded view of the sky and it had become one of Vision’s favourite places to read.

“What do you want?” she asked.

He raised an eyebrow, unfazed.

“To keep an eye on you. This place looks pretty but it isn’t any place for a young girl.”

She snorted, “You know where I came from, right?”

“I do,” he said with a frown, “This isn’t better.”

“No,” she agreed, “but it’s not like you tried to put me anywhere different.”

Malone shifted uncomfortably and changed the subject.

“What’s he got you doing?”

She pushed the book over to him and heaved a long-suffering sigh.

“Wasting my time,” she said, “I think he just doesn’t want to explain anything to me, so he’s set me an impossible task.”

Malone hesitated.

“Why impossible?”

“Because… I’m not a mage. Obviously.”

He rubbed the side of his face, “Know much about mages, do you?”

“I –”

“Rhetorical question,” he cut her off, “Alright. Do you know about the Snap?”

She nodded.

“I never did it. Celia… um, the woman who cared for me… thought I’d Snap, because of who mam–”

“Your mother,” he corrected.

“My mother,” she ground through clenched teeth, “Because of who my mother was.”

“During the Snap,” Malone started in a lecturing tone, “a mage might experience terrible pain, or a feeling of great sickness.”

“I know,” she growled.

“What is the last thing you remember, being in your own body?”

She rolled her eyes. She’d been out of her right mind and in great pain. She had no clear memories of the time. It clicked. She stiffened. Malone reached over to squeeze her hand gently.

“It’s in Rook’s best interests to teach you magic, I think. If he thinks you’re a physical mage, I daresay he’s being honest with you.”

She pulled the book back in front of her and stared at it.

“I guess I’d better read this book, then.”

“If you would like a tutor, I have some time to spend,” Malone offered congenially.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“You are being too nice to me.”

He grunted, “I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of that before.”

“I don’t trust you. Who are you?”

He shrugged, “The castle healer. I’ve worked there for, well, decades.”

Her eyes widened with understanding, “You knew my mother. How?”

“I loved her,” he said, his eyes taking on that faraway sheen once more, as he smiled. For a moment, he looked like a much younger man. “Well,” he amended, “For a time. She was not one for being held down for long. Only you and your brother ever truly held her heart. I knew you both, as children.”

She processed quietly while Malone continued to speak.

“I am a grouchy, tired old man, Tynan. Helping you soothes my ghosts. There’s nothing more than that I want from you.”

She searched his face for a long, quiet moment, then nodded decisively and spread the book between them.

“Okay. You can explain this to me, then.”

“Happy to,” he said.