yarrr, ye scurvy boy-king, halt ye whinin'

A man headed up the sidewalk toward them. He was carefully put together and overwhelmingly...gray. At the same time that Blue appraised this Gray Man, she got the idea that she was also being appraised.

At the end of the moment, they both eyed each other with a sort of mutual decision not to underestimate the other.

"Hello," he said cordially. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

First of all, the way he phrased it meant that he could see Noah, which not everyone could. Second of all, he was polite in a way that was unlike anything Blue had encountered before. Gansey was polite in a way that squashed the other party smaller. Adam was polite to reassure. And this man was polite in a keen, questioning sort of way. He was polite like tentacles were polite, testing the surface carefully, checking to see how it reacted to his presence.

He was, Blue decided suddenly, very clever. Nothing to be trifled with.

She gestured to her soaked clothing. "This is performance art. We're reenacting 'The Little Mermaid'. Not the Disney version."

This was her own little tentacle test.

The Gray Man smiled agreeably. "Is he the prince? Do you stab him or do you turn into foam at the end?"

"Foam, of course," said Blue, enormously gratified.

"I always thought she should have stabbed him," he mused. "I'm looking for Maura."

"Ah." Now it all made sense. This was Mr Gray. She'd heard his name whispered between Maura, Calla and Persephone over the past few days. Especially between Calla and Persephone. "You're the hit man."

Mr Gray had the good grace to look efficiently startled. "Oh. And you're the daughter, Blue."

"The one and only." Blue fixed a penetrating gaze on him. "So, do you have a favourite weapon?"

Without missing a beat, he replied, "Opportunity."

Now she raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Come on. Noah, I'll be back out in a sec."

from The Dream Thieves by Maggie Stiefvater