Page 15 of The Mage on the Hill
“Friend.” A mutteredI hopemight have followed, but Toby couldn’t be sure.
The door opened before they’d reached the second step up onto the porch, and a figure filled the doorway, thoughfilledwas kind of an overstatement. Tall and willowy, he might not have been able to fill a poster tube.
“Darius?” The man reached out a hand, then let it drop. “Is it you?”
Beside Toby, Darius nodded. “Arden.”
“They wouldn’t tell me….” Arden’s voice cracked. “Anything. I called. And called. I thought…. Dammit, Darius, you let me think you’ddied.”
Toby stayed where he was while Darius took another step forward. Was this guy an old boyfriend? Lover? Colleague? Cousin?Gah, this is awkward. Toby hitched his backpack up and retreated another step as they stared at each other.
“Sort of… did,” Darius whispered, and at that Arden stalked forward, head leading, graceful and strange in his movements, like a wading heron.
He took Darius’s head between his hands, eyes roaming over the eye patch and the more visible damage. Then he wrapped his arms around Darius with a ragged sob. “You’re a pretty solid ghost.”
It took two whole breaths before Darius unstiffened and returned the hug. “I’m…. Good to see you.”
“Gods.” Arden stepped back, swiping at his eyes. “I’m shaking. Come in. Please. Both of you. No need to let the neighbors watch me go to pieces.”
Toby hesitated since it still felt like he was intruding here. Waiting out on the front steps after an invitation inside would’ve been rude, though. Arden had an arm around Darius as they turned to go in. Grumbling about noncommunicative teachers, Toby trudged after them.
The little vestibule where Toby toed off his shoes in imitation of their host let out into…. Well, into one of the strangest hallways he’d ever seen. The old cliché was organized chaos, but this went far beyond. It was strictly regimented chaos, and Toby knew that made no sense even as he thought it.
A wall-mounted shelf on his immediate left held a collection of thimbles, but not the twee little ceramic collectibles with painted scenes other people collected. No, these were practical thimbles in every possible color, arranged by material and size. Cabinets with dozens of little plastic pullout drawers—the kind usually found in a garages or woodshops—lined both sides of the hallway. They probably had a name. Toby couldn’t recall what. A small regiment of knickknacks sat atop each cabinet, one category to each, such as cats on one or windmills on another. Some of the cabinets had wheels, some didn’t, but each one had a neat printed label, and each little drawer also had a perfectly affixed, straight, and centered label.
Holy mother of perfectionists.
He couldn’t stop to read all the labels as he hurried to catch up to Darius, but he definitely caught one on a cabinet that readbeadsand another designatedwashers. They passed two closed doors and one that led into an overstuffed parlor before the hallway dumped them out in the riotous kitchen. Again,riotouswas both an overstatement and an understatement for the gleefully excessive collection of stuff lassoed and hogtied into structured order. In any other house, Toby would’ve concluded that Arden lived with his grandmother or a fussy great-aunt, but something about the way Arden moved through it made Toby certain this was his domain and his ruling of it.
Arden had settled Darius in a chair at the surprisingly clear kitchen table and was bustling around the stove and sink, apparently putting tea on. Because of course he was.
A hand suddenly blocked Toby’s move to the table. “Arden MacEvoy, Life/Chalcogen Mage, exiled.” The uncertain smile slipped a hair when Toby shook his hand. “You’re unplaceable.”
“Toby Jones. How did you—?”
Arden’s free hand fluttered. “Life mages feel stuff like that. Darius, are you teaching still? After everything?”
“No.” Darius had hunched in on himself, hair hanging in his face in a return to the Darius that Toby had first spotted on his front step. “Yes.”
A frown furrowing a deep V in Arden’s forehead, his gaze snapped between them. “What is this? Darius, what’s happened?”
The cords in Darius’s neck strained, and Toby couldfeelthe words stuck in his throat.Not my place to speak for him. It’s not.But watching him struggle set one sharp needle after another into Toby’s heart. “He’s not supposed to be teaching, okay? They kicked him out after what happened, and I don’t really even know what happened, except it was wild magic and it was bad and Darius almost died, that’s what they said. But it’s not like theyhelpedhim, he needed help and they kicked him to the curb and told him not to teach anyone, and I guess he promised he wouldn’t, but then I showed up at his house and I was dying and he said he would even though they told him not to.”
Pale eyebrows vanishing under a ginger hairline, Arden cocked his head. “You’re speaking for Darius now?”
“He….” Toby felt the flush all the way down his chest as he glanced at Darius for some hint of… something. Anger. Approval. But his teacher was staring at the duckies on the vinyl tablecloth. “It’s hard for him now. Speaking. He’s been getting… better.”
The last word trailed off as Arden stalked to Darius and dropped to his knees beside the chair. “Why, Dar? Why didn’t you let me know? You could’ve emailed. Texted. If you needed help. Youdidneed help. I would’ve come.”
“I know,” Darius whispered.
Arden shook him by the arm, not as gently as Toby would’ve liked. “Then why?”
“Kara…died.” Darius had wrapped his arms around his ribs and started rocking. “Too much. And she couldn’t….”
“I know she died. The guild didn’t keep that secret. But that doesn’t exp—”
“I killed her!”
