Page 50 of The Mage on the Hill
A partially paved lane ran off into the woods beside the truck, and down that lane appeared to be a… structure of sorts. Perhaps something that had been a structure before plants overran it. Vines of all descriptions covered it, softening and partially hiding the lines of roofs, gables, and walls. Such a structure should have been abandoned, so it was jarring to see cars parked all around the building, people running back and forth or standing in clumps and yelling at each other.
“I have the bad feeling that’s the hospice.” Elias nodded at the vine-devoured building. “Toby, you think?”
Darius put his palm on the grass, feeling his way to the earth below. Toby’s Animus signal ran in a straight line toward whatever disaster was down the lane. “Yes.” He stood, dusted his hands off, and strode toward the distressed building, trying not to break into a dead run. “Bring the truck. Please.”
The whispers started as he reached the first group of people.
“Valstad.”
“It’s him.”
“That’s Darius Valstad.”
“Gods, it’s worse than we thought.”
He kept his head up and ignored them as he headed for a cluster of mages near the building, some of whom he recognized as guildmasters from Montchanin.
“Hospice?” Darius pointed to the vines without giving them a chance to ask what he was doing there.
“This isn’t your concern, Valstad.” A pinch-faced mage regarded him as if he’d crawled out from under pond scum. “Please go home.”
Darius scowled as he surveyed the vines and stubbornly held his ground. Old Darius would’ve let them have it. Present Darius feared they wouldn’t hear out his stumbling sentences. Had he been alone, this might have been an insurmountable problem.
“Guildmasters.” Zubayr had reached them, breathing hard as he held out his hand. “Zubayr Tahiri, formerly of the Allegheny guild. We believe we may be able to help or at least shed some light on the situation. Is there a hospice building under there, and was this a rather, ah, sudden vegetative invasion?”
The guildmasters’ expressions ranged from wary to confused. A younger woman Darius didn’t recognize spoke up. “Yes, to both. We have people trapped in there.”
Zubayr adopted an expression of grave concern. “That’s not good. And is there a patient inside named Toby Jones?”
“That’s not information we can give out,” snarled one of the older mages. Roger Barris, Darius believed, though if that was the case, he hadn’t aged well at all. “Especially not with Valstad here. The director gave strict instructions not to allow—”
“Where’s John?” Darius cut him off sharply.
“He’s, um, inside,” the young woman said as her face flushed scarlet.
“Not a good situation at all.” Zubayr shook his head sympathetically. “What have you tried so far?”
Arden had arrived, though he hung back outside the circle of guildmasters. Smart move. Elias had edged his truck as far forward as he could without running anyone over and was picking his way through the gravel and leaf litter toward them.
“We had an Animus mage try to encourage the plants off.” A willowy mage with a shock of wild black hair took his glasses off and cleaned them fretfully on his shirt. “But they wouldn’t listen. We tried hatchets and trimmers to cut a hole, but the vines confiscate any tool used against them and immediately fill the gap back in.”
Another mage piped up from the back, “Someone suggested a controlled burn—”
“But we all agreed that idea was incredibly stupid,” Barris snapped and rounded on Darius. “And you’re here because you think you can do better than the entire guild?”
Darius fought against hunching his shoulders under that furious regard. “Yes.”
“Ha! Without killing everyone in a mile radius?”
“Yes.”
Barris took a step forward, crowding him. “And how do you propose to dothat?”
“Quietly.” Darius allowed himself a little smile. “I’m going… to ask.”
Objections and derision rose from all sides until the young woman called out, “Gods’ sakes, Roger, let him try. No oneelseis doing anything useful.”
Roger Barris, who most likely would have been director if John hadn’t been so much better at handling people, threw up both hands with a sound of muted rage. “Fine. Wonderful. I want everyone to back up to the road, except you and I, Morgaine. Valstad, I swear, if I feel even a hint of you throwing magic of any kind, I’m taking you down like the rabid dog you are.”
