“We’re in my house.”

“I was talking metaphorically.”

“We’re in my house,” Brennock repeated, “and Ms Jane is getting bloodstains all over my sheets while your friends downstairs are eating all my food. I can’t be seen talking to you people. Anyone who has any contact with an operative from the Irish Sanctuary has to report it, did you know that? We’re to report it immediately and, if possible, delay them until the Cleavers get here.”

“Grand Mage Ode must not like us.”

“Well,” said Brennock, a little haughtily, “you did get our last Grand Mage killed.”

“Strom may have died on Irish soil,” Vex said, “but it was an English blade that took his life, or has Ode forgotten that Tanith Low was the one to swing it? We’re going up against her right now, for God’s sake. Ode should be thanking us.”

“No one mentions Low when they talk about Strom. They just talk about how he died because of the Irish Sanctuary.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” Vex muttered.

“I could go to prison for helping you.”

“It’s appreciated.”

“That’s all? That’s all you’re going to say?”

“It’s... really appreciated?”

“What about compensation for the risk I’m taking?”

“I could give you a hug.”

“I’m talking about money!”

“You can’t put a price on hugs.”

“You’re making jokes? You’re making jokes while you’re putting my life in danger?”

“Oh, your life’s not in danger.”

“They could execute me for harbouring fugitives.”

“We’re not fugitives. We haven’t committed any crime that they’re aware of. If anything, you’d be executed for aiding the enemy during a time of near-war. So that’d be treason.”

“Oh my God.”

“Brennock, we appreciate the risk you’re taking in helping us. We do. But I’m not going to pay you because that would cheapen both of us. Besides, you owe me. Who introduced you to your wife?”

Brennock frowned. “A mutual friend.”

“Ah, but who introduced you to your mutual friend?”

“My brother.”

“My point, Brennock, is that if you go far enough back into your past, I’m sure you’ll find someone with a link to me. Or at least to Saracen. He gets around.”

“I do,” Saracen agreed as he poked his head in. “Gracious is back.”

Vex looked at Brennock. “Doc, seriously. Fix me.”

Brennock hesitated, then scowled. His hands started glowing, radiating heat. “Try not to move,” he said, and placed his hands over the wound. The heat intensified and Vex gritted his teeth.

Aurora slid off the bed and went downstairs, but Saracen stayed, and peered closer. “What are you doing?”

“Disintegrating the bullet shards,” Brennock mumbled.

The heat spread and Vex was sure he could feel his skin starting to blister. And then it was over, and Brennock took his hands away and coolness rushed in.