Caleb understands that distinction perfectly. He's lived it. Eleven years in Vergesson with his mind shattered. This is something Yussa may learn about him soon, when the details of Ikithon's crimes come to light. But he doesn't--he can't--say it now. He nods, and his eyes say enough. He understands.

"You owe me nothing," he insists, "after all you have done for me. I only hope to continue studying with you."

His own wine is all but forgotten, the stem of the glass held loosely between his fingers.

"And you are my friend," he says, tentatively enough that it is almost a question--an offer. "So your life and your remarkable mind matter to me, because they are yours. I...no longer wish to have debts between friends."