Marbles are better than Malt, I always say. And if that can't convince you, my most loyal customer is Prince Felix of Silvermark. One bag of my marbles was all it took for him to cast his sword aside.

Tiny white strands of hair fluttered down Katla's face, covering the table at the same speed as the first dawdling snow was conquering the outside world. Each stroke of the razor revealed more of his pale cheeks and deepened the dark, empty stare in his eyes.

Fox rolled his marbles closer to him and put them into his pouch, first the red ones, then the orange ones, then the rest. Though Katla had explicitly asked him to play quietly, he could no longer obey that wish. "Katla, before we go to the Mage Council, I'm gonna need a shave too."

A shallow sigh escaped Katla's lips as he reached for the whetstone and honed the blade. He didn't spare him a glance. "I think you're a little young to have a beard, son."

"Not true." Fox tilted his head backwards, tapping his finger to his chin. "I have like one hair somewhere."

Katla frowned, his face contorted in a painful grimace that slowly turned into a faint smile. "Alright. Come on here, then." He patted his thigh. "Let's have a look."

In his enthusiasm, Fox leapt up and accidentally smashed his foot into his pouch. It toppled over, which launched the marbles to every corner of the room.

Oops. He would have to take care of that later.

Katla groaned as he landed on his lap. He raised his head to the ceiling, his toes wiggling from excitement. Nothing could stop him from getting his very first shave, like a real man. He was already ten and a half.

"You've gotta sit still." Katla's voice slipped into a gruff bark. "The razor is sharp, son."

"Sorry." Fox grinned sheepishly. He held his hands in front of his chest, pretending he was one of the cat statues guarding Moondale. "Like this?"

"Much better." Katla's greasy fingers touched his jawbone, rubbing out the warm shaving oil. "I see. This isn't gonna take long."

An uncanny shiver ran down his back as the cold blade landed on his skin. He was at Katla's mercy now, and he would never hurt him. The pressure of the razor on his throat increased. He closed his eyes and waited until it was over.

Katla had killed back in Laneby, but that was different. King Ariel had told him to do that, and nobody could disobey the King. Not even Katla.

A warm breath whispered in his ear. "All done."

His stomach tingled with a thunderbolt of curiosity that slew all of his fear. "Did you find the hair?"

"No, but I found a special kind of beard." Katla licked the razor's spine. "I'd say it tastes mostly like shaving oil, but there's a predominant hint of Doe's gooseberry jam too."

"Aww... but I wanna have a real beard like you." Fox pouted. "I wanna shave every day too, or maybe grow the longest beard in the world. I don't know."

"If you don't know, you can't grow up yet." Katla chuckled and instantly one hair on his head turned back to black. "Also because there's still so much I need to teach you before you can become the best magician-warrior Silvermark has ever seen."

"Beyond Silvermark too!" Fox hopped off his lap. "So when you're done shaving, you have to show me how to tie rats so I can bring them to Falcon and start earning coins. Chop, chop, Katla."

"That'll have to wait until after the council meeting." Before he could curl his mouth into another pout, Katla pointed the razor's handle at him. "No, don't give me that look, son. It's you who slept the morning away."

He pouted anyway. "You should have woken me up. I didn't know it was morning because it was so dark outside."

"Welcome to Silvermark." Katla set the razor to his bottom lip. "Be glad that you slept at all."

"I'll give you my sleep." He rubbed his eyes and flicked out a grain of the Sandman's sand, but as he presented it to Katla, it fell off his finger and disappeared in the crack of the floor where only dust bunnies lived. "Maybe not then. But we don't have to go to Mage Tower, do we? There are so many things we could do–fun things, like catching rats and visiting Doe and–"

"Fox! I've so had it with this discussion! Not another word." Katla ground his teeth, running the edge of the blade over the stone. "And for the love of the Gods, pick up your marbles before I break my neck!"

Tears jerked at his eyes, his heart suddenly beating wildly in his chest. That scowl had been uncalled for; he had wanted to help. He lowered his head. "I don't like you when you're grumpy."

"That makes two of us."

Keeping an eye on him, Fox crawled onto the floor and shuffled around, gathering his marbles. Katla dipped his fingers into the bowl of shaving oil and rubbed onto the patch of hair that he had missed the first time. Then, as the razor kissed his jawline to send the remainder of the beard to its grave, it became clear that he was condemned to silence once more.

Despite the sighing and snappy replies, he could not stay angry. The illness his master was battling against was a strange one–he had no fever nor a cough or a tummy ache–but Mother had told him once that people become a little grouchy when they're under the weather. And that was where Katla was.

When the razor had cut off the last hair, he wiped his face with a cloth and swept the table clean. With the cloth firmly in his hands, he opened the back door and threw the hair out. Yet instead of coming back in, he stood still and exhaled so deeply that an entire cloud of smoke escaped his lips.

Goosebumps appeared on Fox's arm from the mere thought that he would have to take one step outside in that gloomy, icy world. He hustled to the fireplace, enjoying the warmth of its flames on his back.

"Time to leave." The one hair on Katla's head was white again. "Let's face our fears and this godforsaken blizzard."

"Are you sure we can't stop by Falcon or Doe first?"

"No!" Katla grabbed Fox's grey coat and fiery red scarf, his lips grimaced and threatening to shout some more. "Come on, son. Don't be so difficult."

"I'm not." Fox tapped his hand into thin air, which lowered the flames until they were but smoke and a lingering heat on his back. "I'm here for you. If Hawk asks about your hair, I'll tell her you taught me a very complicated spell that drained all of your magical energy. It's the perfect lie, Katla. She can't poke into my head anymore so she can't prove anything."

"Please don't. If Hawk asks anything, you let me do the talking."

"But why?"

"Because I'm the adult, and you're the child." He reached for his grass green hat but chucked it back onto the rack. "I'm not gonna wear my hat. It's never gonna work."

Fox huffed. He danced on his tiptoes to grab the hat. "You have to wear it. It's freezing. You might get even sicker, and don't forget that Doe knitted it especially for you."

"Alright, I give up. You win. You're a stubborn and impossible boy."

While Katla held his hands up, Fox pulled the hat over his head. He wasn't stubborn; until his master was feeling better, he was going to look after him, and none of that was Hawk's business.

One step outside and he already wanted to run back into the house and never get out again.

Though it was the middle of the day, it might as well have been midnight. The sky was dark and grey, as they had been for the past couple of days, but now the clouds had descended on the land, their curtains of smoke veiling the city into an obscurity that none of the faint glimmering silver lights on the castle walls could save them from.

And then there was the cold, the teeth-shattering cold that ignored all the layers of clothes he was wearing and chilled him right to the bone. He twirled his hand, but as the flame spiked up, it froze and broke apart into a thousand ice fragments.

"Oh, no, am I getting sick too?" Fox asked.

"No, it's just the weather. The first day of winter is upon us–it has come early this year."

"First day?" he shrieked. "What is the rest gonna be like? I want it to be Spring again."

"Me too, son." Katla sighed, sending more white fog to the already misty streets. "Me too."

In the castle, large tufted red rugs had been spread across the palace's floor. It didn't help much to stop Fox from clattering his teeth; he needed a cosy fireplace to regain feeling in his fingers and toes. And some of Doe's freshly baked pies to fill his belly too.

He could already taste the creamy filling when a boy with yellow blonde hair bumped into him.

"Oops... sorry. Gotta run," he said and off he darted, past Katla–who he greeted quickly–then turned the corner.

"Get here, you wimp!" A girl of thirteen or fourteen with braided blonde hair stood a bit further, by the stairs, her almond-shaped face screaming thunder. "Or I will tell Father that you were in my room again."

"If you do that, I'll tell him about that guard you like and how you dream about kissing him." Smooching noises resounded in the distance. "Oh, Bear, I know we can never get married but I want you, and I want you now. Don't tell anyone that I love you."

"Ugh!" Her silver tiara bobbed up and down as she passed Fox in a hurry. "I hate you! I'm going to kill you, Felix!"

"Can I introduce you to the royal highnesses, Princess Panthera and Prince Felix," Katla said. "I've been told they can't live with or without each other."

"It's like you're describing yourself and Hawk." A voice purred behind them.

Badger chuckled and embraced Katla into a swift peck on the cheek.

Katla didn't return the favour. "Great to see you, but for your information, I'd be perfectly fine living without her. We're water and fire–literally–and nobody likes smoke."

"I do." Fox raised his hand. "Smoke means there's a fire somewhere, and I love fire because I'm a Fire Magician."

Only when nobody laughed, he realised what he had said. Not all fire was good. Many people in Laneby were dead because of the same green flames that he conjured when killing rats. Mother... Father... He and Amy could have been running around like Prince Felix and Princess Panthera at this very moment if Katla's fire hadn't killed her.

Still, when Fawn popped up next to her master, he didn't think twice before grabbing Katla's hand. She could not come between them. After Hawk, she was the biggest reason why he hated those stupid council meetings.

"Katla, Fox was playing all by himself yesterday. Why weren't you there?" Fawn batted her long eyelashes. She stared at him as though she was accusing him of a terrible crime. The snitch better not tell him about the cat.

"Oh, Fawn, I'm not doing too well." Katla let go of his hand to pat her on the head. "Thanks for looking after him for me."

Fox quickened his pace, his nostrils flaring. If a rat were to appear from behind the pillars at this moment, he would make both Fawn and Katla gasp. She was treading on dangerous territory, and he shouldn't thank her for being a nosy, stuck-up know-it-all.

"Are you still unwell?" Fawn continued.

"I'm doing okay. Just a bit tired."

Fox glanced over this shoulder. He could hardly believe that was all it was.

"Sure..." Badger folded the band of Katla hand. "Is all of it white already?"

"I'm managing." He slapped her hand away, which startled Fawn in the process too. "I'm here, aren't I? It's better than last year."

"Last year can never happen again." She looked at him. "Don't turn everyone who wants to help away again. I've found someone willing to take Fawn and me back to Starford by carriage, but you only have to ask if you want us to stay."

"I'm not turning anyone away." He scratched the skin around his lips. "Really, Badger. We're good. Go back to Starford."

Fawn edged closer to Fox and whispered, "I don't wanna scare you, but he looked the same last winter and then Hunter died."

"Hunter died of a fever." He folded his arms against the hammer beating loudly in his chest; he was scared now for sure. "And you heard Katla–he's just tired. We're practising a lot, even at night."

"I don't believe you. You're a bad liar," she said under her breath, "and so is he."

He kept his mouth shut. Maybe she was right, but he wasn't going to say it out loud. She was still as snooty as ever.

Up in Mage Tower, dozens of magicians had already flocked to the fireplace and were blocking the heat. Hawk stood at the front, behind her table. "Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats. Quick-quick, we're already running late."

Robin, the Air Magician with the large moustache, and a black-skinned Earth Magician remained in front of the fireplace. Two women–both blonde and Water Magicians–started pulling each other's clothes as one sat down in the chair closest to the fire.

"Ladies, please," the Grandmaster blared. "The cushion of that chair is red, and neither of you can conjure any fire. I'm well aware that it's chilly in here, but seek counsel from the Goddess of Patience. Master Katla will work his best magic so everybody can be comfortable and warm."

"My apprentice will take care of that." Katla pulled off his hat, blowing his cover. "It's the best for everyone."

"I see." She paused to arrange the papers on the wooden stand. "At least you're here. I wouldn't want you to miss anything of the very interesting lecture I have prepared for today. It's gonna be an ethical discussion too–right up your alley, Master Katla."

"Should be good." He settled into the chair and brought his arms to his chest. "No boring meeting this time."

"Some of us learn."

Fox waited for Robin to take his seat, then sat down on his knees in front of the fireplace. With his bare hands, he picked up the smouldering logs and rearranged them into a pyramid shape.

In the background Hawk had already begun. "... aware that powerful Air Magicians control the local weather. Ask Prince Storm of Ice and he will tell you in detail of how he blows the coldest of the winter storms to the desolate northern plains of Silvermark, but it is not without consequences..."

That Prince Storm was a clever man. If he could chase winter away, he would do it too. But he was a Fire Magician and had other duties. He pushed his hand up. "Rise flames. Burn!"

"... effects go far beyond the ten-mile-radius in which the spell has been performed. In the last decade, the north has seen a harsher winter each year."

"But nobody lives there," Fox muttered as he stuck the fire-poking stick into a log, the flames growing and growing.

"Young Master Fox, did you wanna say anything?" Hawk asked. "Could you speak up, share it with the group. We're here to talk."

Fox froze. She was being nice, too nice, but he wasn't going to repeat what he had said. It might be an insult to all the Silvermarkers. "Erm... are the flames big enough?"

"Yes, thank you, Fox." She smiled–an actual and genuine smile. "But that's not what you were saying. Can you repeat what you were saying earlier?"

"Erm..." He hid the poking stick behind his back. All the dozens of heads in the room had been turned to him, all except Katla's. He was staring at his lap, his fingers rubbing his temple in circles. Was he even allowed to speak to Hawk? Katla had said that he would do all the talking if she asked any questions. "I'm just an apprentice... I..."

"We're all here to talk and learn, Fox." She sounded sweet. That was odd. "Don't be afraid."

"I'm not but..." He hesitated. Finally, Katla turned around and nodded. "I think we should do it if it's possible. Send this evil winter that breaks magic to some place where there are no people."

"And where would you send it to, Fox? In the east, there's Starford. In the west are the last open mines of Sprucedale, and in the north lives Prince Caracal."

Fox fidgeted with his fingers behind his back. "The south then?"

"It's a stupid idea," Robin spat. "Any wind sent there will crash into the Horseshoe Mountains and return twice as strong. Honestly, boy, who teaches you?"

"Katla does!" Fox clenched his fists, the anger making him rise to the tips of his toes. "He's the best master anyone can have. He–"

He stopped as out Katla's mouth escaped a white puff of smoke, as though he was still walking outside in the cold air. It startled Hawk too, and here and there came whispers. Fawn ducked behind Badger.

Katla rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm sorry. It's nothing. I'm fine."

"After the meeting, you and I need another word, Master Katla." Again there was no anger in her voice, it was something else. Pity maybe?

Fox stayed by the fireplace for the rest of the afternoon. There by the flames, out of reach of sideways glances and most of the stares, he felt safest. Hawk mostly focussed on the debate, only pausing in between two heated arguments to lay her eyes on Katla. He didn't participate, nor were there any playful exchanges between him and Badger.

Winter had changed it all. The only constant between these walls was fire.

Badger and Fawn lingered around for a while, even after all the other council members had gone home. Hawk nearly stared them out of the room, but it wasn't until Katla shook his head that they left.

As the last bit of Badger's brown coat disappeared into the hallway, Hawk snapped her fingers. The door slammed shut with a rumble and chilling clank. She strutted up the stairs, her face turning back to their usual cunning wrinkles.

"Can I at least send the boy away?" Katla asked. "Please, he doesn't need to hear this."

"On the contrary. I want him to see the real you, dear. As far as I'm concerned, you're done acting." She leant on the brown couch behind her. "These aren't the stages of Socota. You can't pretend all the time."

"I'm not pretending, just suppressing certain thoughts and allowing others to take over." His eyes drooped to the floor. "This is real, Hawk. This is who I am. All of it."

"All of it?" She snorted. "So you love the cub? Is that why you had your little episode–because he endeared you?"

"It's hard, but I'm managing." He gulped, but it did not hide the shaking of his voice. "Don't take him away. Winter is already hard enough–"

"Tsk-tsk, dear, I have to protect His Majesty's interests. The boy is worth more than you." She took a strand of her and twirled it around her fingers. Her poison green eyes locked onto Fox and didn't let go. "It's funny. I'm not doing anything but the thoughts running through his head are so clear."

"Hawk. Don't."

Fox's breath hitched. She couldn't take him away from Katla; no matter what he had done, or what had happened to Hunter. He would never hurt him. They were friends.

"Since I take it you didn't have the guts to tell the little man what you become, I'm gonna make him see the danger for himself." She leapt up and landed right in front of Katla, their bodies inches from each other.

Katla jerked away from her. "Why are you doing this? I've got it under control! There's no reason to burden him with this. He's a child, Hawk. He needs a home and..."

"He needs the truth, dear." She leant forward, her lips moving dangerously close to his.

"No, leave him alone! He doesn't like you." His hand blazed with a bright green flame, which he shot at her without hesitating.

Yet before the fire reached her, he was swung into the fireplace by the sheer force of a wall of ice-cold water that kicked him in the face and extinguished all of the flames in one go.

It was like being outside naked. His shivers shook him to the deepest core of his muscles, petrifying him in the muddy ashes. His head and back ached so badly. He couldn't do anything as Katla curled up into a sobbing ball of misery, his hair all black again from Hawk's kiss.

"You did one thing right, Katla." She yanked at his hair, forcing him to look at her. "He's loyal to you. But I wonder for how long?"

Grinning, she smacked him back to the ground and conjured a whirlwind of air.

And with that, she was gone. He was able to move again. Like a limping animal, he crawled out of the fireplace and set course to Katla on all fours. Doing anything else was out of the question; let alone conjuring a flame.

Every shuffle was a victory, yet as he stretched out his hand to his master, he blocked him entirely. "Get away from me, son."

"No, I'm so cold, Katla. I need your magic. You have to make me warm again because I can't."

He panted then burped out more smoke, dark-grey in colour. "Go to Doe's... stay there. Run, Fox, you have to run."

"I can't. I'm so wet and everything hurts." He didn't dare to cry, too afraid that they would freeze too. "And I'm not afraid of you. I will never be afraid of you, Katla. You can't hurt me. You've never hurt me."

"I will this time. I'm a monster, worse than anything you've ever thought hid under your bed. I'm..." Katla let out a yell that chilled his bones further.

"But you're my friend," he squeaked, unable to stop his tears from falling. He was a better father than Father ever was. He was kind, patient, and played with him more often than Father had ever done.

"Stop!" His fingers dug into the carpet as he blew out a pitch-black cloud of smoke. "Do you have any idea whose idea it was to reduce Laneby to ashes–to not just kill the Lord and his son, but burn all of the villagers, every last one of them?"

"The King! He ordered you to do it. You had no choice."

Fire burnt as he stared into Katla's eyes. "No, son, it was mine."