The sunlight glinted in Halt's dark eyes as he peered at Will from the depths of the kitchen.
"I was wondering when you'd return," he said cryptically.
Will hesitated on the threshold of the cottage, one foot still out in the air. Behind him, Gilan was grumbling about the cold weather and incoming rain. Somehow to Will it felt colder in the cottage itself.
"Why are we stopping?" said Gilan, and Will stepped to the side to allow him past. But Gilan too hesitated on the threshold. Halt took them both in with his gaze and a nasty smile spread across his face.
"Awful weather coming in." He said casually.
Will and Gilan shared a look.
"Halt." Gilan laughed, "Surely you wouldn't-"
Halt cut him off with a look. He said nothing, just looked meaningfully past them.
"Why don't you two come in?" He said in a low drawl, "Out of the weather. Out of the rain?"
That felt like a trap. Will took a step back outside the cottage and looked up at the late afternoon sky. Pale orange with grumbling clouds rolling over from the east. A cold wind whipped up the leaves on the porch. He didn't know whether to go in or out. At first, he was afraid Halt meant to make them sleep in a tree in the rain, but now he didn't quite know what to fear.
Gilan was braver and crossed the threshold. His footsteps made no noise across the floorboards. He perched on a chair in front of the fireplace, eyes locked on Halt. Will followed hesitantly, closing the door behind him.
Halt waited until they were both seated. He let the silence settle over the room undisturbed, eyeing them both off. The sun slipped behind a cloud and his eyes looked black.
"How strange." The ranger drawled. "The fireplace is out of wood."
Will and Gilan glanced at each other, uncertain. Will as the apprentice, rose back up and crept back outside. There was wood stacked up in the lean-to. He cut it into reasonable chunks with an axe and carried it back inside.
Halt watched him like a hawk watches a field mouse.
Will arranged it in the fireplace, threw some kindling in and lit the fire.
Halt said nothing. The silence was settling again. Gilan began to fiddle with his cloak.
Halt reached for his kettle and shook it. There was a silence.
"That's interesting," Halt said again. "There's no water in this kettle."
Will rose again. He crossed the room and took the kettle from Halt then went outside for some water. Winter had made the edges of the barrel freeze and Will's hands burned as he cracked the ice on top to draw out the water.
Back inside, he hung the kettle over the fire, then looked uncertainly back at Halt.
Halt cast an eye around the room, slowly but with purpose. His gaze fell on Will and Gilan's boots that sat just inside the door.
"How strange." He began again, "There are dirty boots on my clean floor."
Will started over to move them, but Halt wasn't done.
"Gilan, why don't you give him a hand," Halt said in a low, dark voice.
The former apprentice rose unsteadily. And took very careful steps back towards the door, his eyes never left Halt's. He picked up his boots and followed Will across the threshold.
Once they were outside, it all happened so fast.
Halt launched across the room and slammed the door closed. The boys listened with dismay as the lock slid into place with a click. Halt cackled maliciously from the other side.
"How's that for bad knees?" he crowed.
"Bastard's got you to set him up for the night." Gilan chuckled.
They peered through the window and saw Halt resting on a chair in front of the nice warm fire, making himself a hot coffee. Meanwhile, the wind whipped a sprinkling of rain over them. Will scowled and huddled in his cloak.
"Don't do that!" Gilan laughed, "That's what got us in this mess in the first place!"
Halt did eventually let them back inside once the weather turned foul. But he was very, very pleased with himself.