Page 45 of The Mage on the Hill
“I’m glad you’re here.” Toby looked down at his feet, trying to make them move. “I’m not glad you’re here for this. Can we just go? Please? You can wheel me out. We’ll drive to Darius’s house, where I’ll be safe. Where I can learn to control this stuff. Here, I’m gonna die.”
“That psychopath brainwashed you.” Dad shook his head. “Don’t give up now, Toby. If you really did it once, you can show the director your Arcana. Even a trickle. That’s all it takes.”
Toby finally had reliable feeling back in his fingers by the time Director Whittaker arrived.
“How’s Darius?” Maybe Toby was shooting himself in the foot, but he was too angry to be his usual sweet self.
The director pulled a chair up close, apparently unperturbed by surly young mages. “Hello, Toby. Darius is home. He’ll be fine. I made certain he was resting comfortably in his own bed before I left.”
“Zubayr?”
“Also home. I was extremely disappointed that he’d assisted in Darius’s criminal actions. He used to be a man of better sense.” Director Whittaker patted Toby’s knee. “But now you’re here and everyone’s safe.”
“Uh-huh.”Safe from me. I see you thinking that.
“Now I hear you keep insisting that you’ve had a breakthrough and found your Arcana. Is that right?”
“I’m insisting because I did. Everyone makes it sound like I’m delusional.” Toby stopped all the angry words that wanted to tumble out. “I don’t want to die. I really don’t want to die.”
“No one wants you to,” the director said gently. “If you can show me that you can access any Arcanum, anything at all, we’ll go back to the guild. We’ll get you proper teachers and make certain you learn in a safe, sane environment.” He leaned forward and took one of Toby’s hands between his. “But if you can’t, the hospice is the only good alternative. I’m sure you’ve heard about Kara. I don’t want you to suffer as she did, torn apart internally by magic she couldn’t control. Do you understand?”
Toby fought the constriction in his chest. This wasn’t the time to cry. This was when he had to step the fuck up and save himself. But, oh crap, how he wanted Darius. “Yes, sir.”
“All right. Mr. and Mrs. Jones, I need you to step out of the room. For safety’s sake.”
Dad helped Mom up, and they clung to each other, looking back several times as they left the room. Toby pulled himself out of his own mire of dread to give them a wave.I can do this. It’ll be okay,Mom and Dad.
The second they stepped out, two extra-large nurses stepped in, the one man pushing a tray with injections all pulled up and ready.
“Look at me, Toby.” Director Whittaker took both of his hands. “They’re just a precaution. Do you need anything for this?”
“Can I have a plant?”
The director nodded. “Good. Yes. Some Animus mages react strongly to plant consciousness.” He turned to one of the nurses. “Could you, please? Any live plant will do.”
One of the nurses brought back a fern that had seen better days, but itwasalive. That should be all that mattered, right? He set the fern on the bed tray and rolled it over so Toby had it within easy reach.
“Center yourself, Toby. Take your time,” Director Whittaker urged softly.
Drug haze still drifted through Toby’s brain as a light ground fog, the kind you could kick your way through.Shouldn’t be a problem. Just remember what it felt like. What you did. He slowed his breathing as he had with Darius, though it took a few tries to get started. His breath kept hitching every time he thought of his griffin. Soon he had it, though. Eight count in, twelve count out. In and out. Quiet. Slow.
He reached out for the plant beside him, carefully, feeling his way, trying to recreate how it had felt in the woods. His fingers started to tingle. There, that was his magic. He knew… dammit, he knew what it shoulddonow. Reaching… reaching… the connection had to be there. Had to be.Come on, fern. Talk to me.
Nothing. He was getting nothing but his own struggle, the pain in his hands growing by the moment. He had to get through. This was his final chance. It had tobethere.
“Injections! Now!” Director Whittaker cried out in a panic-stricken voice. “He’s going into a wild magic seizure!”
“No!” Toby tried to throw himself out of the chair, to escape the hands grasping after him. He was too clumsy, too slow, too disoriented by his magic damming up again. Two hissing pops and two sharp localized pains, one in either arm, were his only warning. The drugs hit his system fast and hard enough to put the lights out.
Darius… I’m so damn sorry. I wish you were here.I wish I could call to you like Professor X or something. Why aren’t there any telepathy Arcana? I love you, Dar. Gods, I wish I could tell you.
Chapter Thirteen
THE KOIneeded feeding. Darius hunched farther into his cardigan against the evening chill. He shuffled out to the shed in his slippers. Why bother with shoes? They just hurt his feet, and he wasn’t certain he could bend down to tie them.
He could have filled the birdfeeders while he was out there. It was spring, though. The birds could fend for themselves a day or two, just until he had the energy. The koi swam in an excited knot to see his shadow above their pond, and they eagerly accepted his offerings. Beautiful, but the sight of them made his heart so heavy it might plummet and drive a hole through the Earth’s mantle. Toby had loved the koi. He’d failed Toby so badly. Failed to protect him, to keep him out of the hands of those who would harm him, good intentions notwithstanding.
Darius had failed to find him, and now Toby lay dying in some sterile, lifeless room somewhere. He sat on the bench with a soft thud, unable to stand for a second longer. Maybe if he just stayed there by the fishpond, he could quietly fade away. No mess. No dramatics.
