Gavin looked at Rookwood, expressionless.
"I've never appointed anyone an elder."
"It's a tradition everyone came up with on their own. In Azkaban, seniority is now measured by how many French Fries you've personally given someone."
Rookwood lowered his voice further, as though discussing a sacred title.
"Black was the first to receive French Fries, and he got five at once. No one's beaten that yet, so everyone recognizes him as the Five-Potato Elder."
"..."
Gavin was speechless for a long moment.
He had only worried that five French Fries would make that black dog too fat to squeeze through the bars.
He had never considered that, inside Azkaban, French Fries might naturally evolve from currency into titles of nobility.
Had feudal fiefdoms and hereditary privilege really sprung up in Azkaban and come back from the dead?
This was heading somewhere dangerous. He had to find a way to stop it.
"Anything else?" Gavin took a deep breath. "How did the others react?"
Rookwood hesitated. "I kept Black's disappearance quiet. I only said he'd gone on a secret mission you assigned him and that we'd wait for you to return."
"You handled that well." Gavin nodded.
"But Rabastan thinks he escaped." Rookwood glanced toward the potato fields, his expression complicated. "He's been canvassing everyone to hold another vote, catch Black, and dunk him in a Fish Cage."
"Dunk him in a Fish Cage?"
Gavin frowned.
"What's that supposed to be?"
"The prisoner who used to do business in Hong Kong taught everyone about it," Rookwood explained. "He said people in China used to dunk people in pig cages to punish immorality. The field team discussed it. There aren't any pig cages on the island, but we've got Fish Cages ready to use. They're just right for stuffing someone inside and