About half an hour into the drive, they left even the dubious road for a gravel track where Darius had to slow the truck to a crawl. To Toby’s relief, this only went on for a few hundred yards before the headlights framed a cabin tucked into the woods. Which, not ominous at all, right? Cabin in the woods.

  “So does your friend—”

  “Elias.”

  “Does Elias know we’re coming?”

  Darius shaking his head didn’t make Toby feel any better. The fact that he sat drumming on the steering wheel and chewing on his lower lip added nicely to the uneasy ambience. Finally, he sighed and pulled the rearview mirror over to resettle his eye patch and do a quick finger comb of his hair.

  “He hasn’t seen you since Pittsburgh either, has he?” Toby took a stab at the reason behind his distress. He waited for Darius to turn and glare. “Look, you don’t look the same, but you’re still gorgeous.”

  That one eyebrow went up, and damn if that didn’t look all roguish and rakish over the eye patch.

  Toby pulled his backpack onto his lap and dug out his brush. “Don’t look at me like that. You are. Want me to put your hair back? Make you look like a presentable hermit?”

  When Darius fished a hair elastic out of his shirt pocket, handed it over, and turned his back, Toby was almost shocked into dropping the brush. He took careful strokes, trying his best to concentrate on making a neat tail instead of on how soft Darius’s hair was, and managed without his hands shaking too badly.

  “All set. Stop worrying.” Toby shouldered his pack as they stepped out into the chill spring night. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Forehead creased, Darius stared at him over the truck’s hood. “Don’t… say that. Ever.”

  Light flooded the front porch and flowed down into empty flower boxes. Probably not warm enough for flowers yet. It’s a nice cabin, at least. Looks co—

  The door flew open to reveal a shotgun aimed at them. “Stop where you are! Who are you and what are you doing here? I’ve got the sheriff on speed dial and can have her up here in five minutes.”

  Darius took a cautious step closer to the light, both hands raised. “Elias? It’s me.”

  “Me?” The person in the doorway clomped onto the porch. “Who’s…? Fucking hells. Valstad?”

  “Yes. I’m—”

  “I heard you were dead.” The shotgun wavered before the man held it out and to the side.

  A strangled sound came from Darius. “I keep… hearing that.”

  “Who’s with you?”

  “Student. Toby.”

  Toby managed a shaky wave. “Um. Hi?”

  “Student. Fuck me sideways.” Elias backed into the house, gesturing for them to follow. “Come in, come in. Dammit, I’m sorry. I’ve had poachers up here sometimes and kids with nothing but bad on their minds.”

  Something about the way Elias walked struck Toby as different until he looked down so he wouldn’t stumble over the threshold and caught sight of Elias’s lower legs. “Oh, cool.”

  “You like those? They’re my new running legs.” Elias’s expression softened into a smile as he stuck out a leg ending in a curved blade. “Carbon fiber and everything. Not cheap, but totally worth it.”

  “They’re fantastic. Are they fast?”

  “So fast I’ve passed myself leaving the house when I was on my way back.” Elias winked as he shut the door. “But enough about me. Darius Valstad, my gods. It’s like seeing a ghost.”

  “Elias… I…. We’re….”

  “Okay, don’t hurt yourself.” Elias frowned up at Darius. “I get it. Past Darius isn’t Present Darius. Go have a seat. I’ll get us some beers and we’ll piece together why you’re up here in Ass End of Podunk.”

  The front room was a spacious kitchen-dining-room-living-room combination, and while the furniture looked comfy, none of it had legs or sat more than a couple of inches off the ground. Darius sank down onto a bright red cushion beside a table with not much more than a foot-high pedestal. Toby chose one of the floor chairs with a wooden back and a sheepskin cushion. All the floor furniture puzzled him, but not for long.

  Three bottles of beer held in one hand, bottle opener in the other, Elias joined them, settled himself on a floor cushion, and took off his prosthetics. “There we go. I’d just gotten all comfy for the evening when I heard your truck. Now.” He uncapped the beers in quick succession and passed them around. “What the fuck, teach?”

  Darius grimaced and took a pull on his beer instead of answering.

  “You know it’ll only get better if you keep trying, right?” Toby waited until he got a nod, but Darius still didn’t put any effort into explaining. He bumped a knee against his mentor’s, but turned to Elias. “I’m apologizing for both of us for just showing up like this since he’s not. He’s kinda at the end of things today, though, and it’s been a long, weird day. Tobias Jones, unplaceable. Darius’s student even though he’s not supposed to have students.”

  “Elias Butler.” Elias reached across to shake Toby’s hand. “One of his over fifteen years ago. He saved me, so I’m willing to forgive him a lot. I feel like there’s a lot of story I’m missing.”

  Toby filled in the pieces he could. While Elias had heard rumors of Pittsburgh, he didn’t know any more than Toby did, but Toby could tell his own story a little better, from sneaking out of the guild infirmary to escaping the hunting guildmasters at Arden’s place.

  “Arden MacEvoy,” Elias said on a low whistle. “There’s a name I haven’t heard in forever. They tossed him out just before they shoved me after him.”

  “Were you doing, um, unapproved research too?”

  Elias gave him a slow conspiratorial smile. “Worse. They couldn’t explain me.”

  A low rumble came from Darius, hunched over his beer and staring at the artwork on the label. “Steadman.” Then he glanced up, blinking, as if he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone. “No major Arcanum.”

  “Non-sequitur much?” Elias said gently. “Yes, Ralph Steadman does the artwork for that brewery. And I think what our dear professor is trying to say is that I don’t have any major Arcanum channel. Only minor ones.”

  Toby gaped at him. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

  “Neither did the guilds.” Elias’s laugh had a sharp, brittle edge. Not as dangerously bitter as Arden’s, but enough to show the cracks of old wounds. “I have three minor—Metal, Alkaline, Crystallogen—and I do fine, thanks. But they didn’t believe it could be so. Accused me of purposefully mischanneling magic. Like that’s a thing. So, there’s the door, they said. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.”

  “Because you didn’t fit. That’s not right. Was is Montchanin?”

  Elias shook his head. “No. Allegheny. The professor taught wherever someone needed him. Darius? You sure that’s where you want to sleep?”

  “Maybe.” The answer came from the floor where Darius had curled up across a couple of cushions.

  “Maybe?” Elias arm-walked over and leaned forward, brushing a stray bit of hair from Darius’s face in a tender gesture that left a strange ball of lead in Toby’s stomach. “We can do better than that. You look beat. Like someone took a stick to you.”

  “He’s been driving most of the day.” Toby hoped he managed not to sound defensive, though it sounded lame when he finished with “I don’t think he sleeps much.”

  Elias arm-walked swiftly over to the living area and started pulling and pushing at one of the sofas that revealed itself as a futon. “I’m not prying and I’m not meaning any disrespect, but do you sleep together?”

  “We, ah, we’ve napped together?”

  “Hey, close enough. If you’re that comfortable with each other, makes it easier.”

  Toby watched the efficient tugging and adjusting. “Can I help you with that?”

  “I got this. See if you can bully him into getting up and dragging his butt over here.”

  Toby scooted over to where he could see Darius’s face. The urge to touch his hair was almost overwhelming, but Toby settled for shaking his shoulder. “Come on, you can’t sleep here. You’ll get all stiff and stuff, and then you won’t be able to get up in the morning. And that sounded really bad. Sorry. I just mean, this isn’t good for you. Can we just get you to bed? Okay, um, that wasn’t much better.”

  Darius let out a soft, amused snort. Definitely amused. Carefully, he levered himself up on one elbow and followed Toby’s pointing finger until he caught sight of the futon. “Bed substitute.”

  “No dissing the futon. It’s better than pretending you’re a cat and sleeping on pillows.”

  “Cats know sleep.”

  “You’re not one, though. Pretty sure your spine doesn’t bend that way.” Toby tugged at Darius’s arm until he stood and shuffled toward the futon. “I should probably shut up now, huh?”

  “Hmm.”

  Darius managed to toe off his shoes and peel out of his sweater before he went facedown on the futon. Returning from the back hallway with blankets draped over his shoulders, Elias stopped by the scene of the collapse with a frown.

  “Couldn’t even wait for a pillow. Has he been sick?”

  “Not, um, physically,” Toby admitted, though he didn’t feel he had the right or enough information to say much more.

  “Fucking guild,” Elias muttered as he spread first a cotton blanket, then an orange-and-blue bird-patterned quilt over Darius. “There were people who would’ve come to help you. But no. They couldn’t even let us know. I would’ve come, Valstad. You know that, right? And not left you on your own all those years?”

  Maybe some sort of acknowledging sound accompanied Darius curling into a ball under the blankets, or maybe it was just the futon creaking under his weight. Either way, Toby had to turn away from the tears threatening in Elias’s eyes. Toby knew, of course, that Darius had been a different man, had led an active, outgoing life, but it was easy to forget when all he had was the current Darius. He could only share the grief at the loss of that previous man in a limited way—full of sorrow over Darius’s suffering.

  Elias sniffed and swiped at his eyes. “Pillows are in the closet by the door. Yell if you need anything, but I’d better let you both get some rest. Maybe tomorrow he can tell me why he came here.” He held up a hand when Toby made a sound of protest. “Specifically why. Maybe he wanted to see me, but Darius does things for reasons. Did he tell you?”

  “Not much except we’re visiting magical confluence sites?”

  “I can see that as part of it. We’re pretty much on top of one.” Elias arm-walked toward the hallway that probably led to his bedroom, his voice growing more muffled as he went. “Bathroom’s the first door on the right here. Good night.”

  Toby took the time to clean up the beer bottles, bring the cooler in, and make certain any perishables went in the fridge while he thought about Elias. He wondered if there had been more than just a student/teacher relationship. Was there resentment underneath the sorrow—a feeling of abandonment? Hard to say. Was Darius out of his mind to trust people he hadn’t seen for fifteen years? Had it really been the hospice brochures that led the guild to Duncannon?

  Horrible thought, Toby. You’re a horrible person.

  Finally out of puttering things to do, he took off his sneakers and borrowed cardigan and climbed under the blankets with Darius, glad for his furnace heat since the cabin had gotten chilly. The futon was about queen-size, plenty of room, and still Toby found himself crowded near the edge after a few minutes as Darius rooted toward him.

  He finally gave up and let the big guy snuggle, since Toby was sure he wasn’t awake and aware. Some part of his tired brain wondered if a consent issue lurked in there somewhere, but he stopped caring when Darius wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, Toby’s back to his chest. Maybe it was wrong to accept affection that wasn’t given consciously. Maybe he didn’t deserve to feel this safe and secure. As his eyes drifted shut and he laced his fingers with the ones resting against his chest, he realized he didn’t really care.

  Chapter Eight

  THE NEXT morning was crisp with the rising sun promising a jacketless afternoon. Whatever demons Elias had been wrestling with appeared to have abandoned him in the night, and he’d risen just after sunrise to make a huge batch of pancakes. Toby had assumed he’d put on one of his pairs of prosthetics to work in the kitchen, but that’s what he got for assuming. For working in the kitchen, Elias had a counter-high rolling stool on which he sat and zipped from counter to stove, from cabinet to cabinet. Locking wheels and a ladder back helped him reach the seat without his prosthetics.

  Offers to help got Toby shooed out of the kitchen, though he was permitted to set the table, carefully, with instructions as running commentary. Darius managed to time stumbling out of the bathroom, showered and mostly dressed, perfectly to breakfast being set on the table, and Toby was proud of himself for suppressing every smartass remark begging to leap out.

  Elias waited until Darius had managed to force down a second pancake before he pounced. “So, teach. What’s the real reason you’re here? Magical confluence, great. Makes sense. But why here?”

  It took so long for Darius to answer, Toby was sure he wouldn’t. He sat there wondering if the tension stacking up would grow higher than the pancakes, and whether one could pour syrup on tension, until Darius murmured, “Good to see you too.”

  “Don’t be like that, Valstad.” Elias sighed. “It is good to see you. Alive. Mostly all right. Doing shit the guild told you not to do again. I’m glad you let me know you’re still around. But I know you. Don’t forget that. You have ulterior motives for picking out a pair of socks.”

  Darius stared pointedly at his bare feet.

  “Don’t get smart. You know what I mean.”

  The same feeling of dread crawled over Toby as when his parents fought, and he caught himself trying to be as small and quiet as he could.

  “For Toby,” Darius finally admitted. “Not losing another.”

  Elias softened his tone considerably. “I hear you. It must’ve been awful. Honest to gods, I didn’t think you’d take another student. But still, why here? Can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

  “You’re unique.” Darius gulped at his coffee, finally looking up from the tabletop when he set the mug down. “There’s a chance. Maybe.” The gesture and shrug included Toby.

  “You think Toby might be like me and that’s why he hasn’t channeled.”

  “Possibly.” A growl crept into Darius’s voice. “How many lost? Like you?”

  Elias turned half away to stare out the window. “No way to know. Slaughter of the innocents. I’m happy to help, but I don’t see how I can.”

  “Walk with Toby. Show him.”

  “Is he bleeding?”

  “He’s right here.” Toby waved at both of them. “And we don’t use the B word.”

  Darius snort-snickered. “Leaking. Yes. It’s escalating.”

  “And you think watching what I do might help.” Elias finished his coffee and arm-walked over to the wall where his prosthetics stood in a neat line. He chose a pair with sneakers already laced on the feet.

  “If he’s like you.” Darius pulled clean socks from his bag. “Yes.”

  Elias used a strap on the wall to pull himself up, considered his collection of things by the wall, and selected a walking stick. “Fair. Toby, you don’t look like an outdoor person to me.”

  “What gave it away?”

  “Besides the fact that if your lips were just a little redder, we could call you Snow White? Though the badger stripe you have going on is cool.”

  “Um, thanks. I think.” I guess we’re going out into nature. Toby pulled on his shoes, wondering if he should worry about mosquitoes. Were they out this early? Or ticks. Eeew. “No, I’m not much on the whole hiking, camping, fishing triad.”

  “No big deal. Pick a stick. Grab a hat. I’ll make sure you don’t get sunstroke or fall in a ravine. Teach, you coming?”

  Darius just stomped into his sneakers and pulled on his jacket.

  “Yeah, of course you are.” Elias flashed a little smile. “Safety first.”

  When Toby picked a hat with a unicorn off the rack by the door, Elias switched it out for a dragon hat with a muttered “I’m the unicorn.” Finally satisfied that his guests were properly equipped, Elias led them off at a meandering pace into the woods. The path started out wide and well used, though Toby had to watch his step around erosion gullies here and there, but Elias soon had them heading uphill onto paths that Toby thought maybe small animals used.

  Maybe that was just him getting tangled in branches and root systems, but he was soon grateful for his walking stick. Darius fell behind quickly, since the rocks along their route were obviously more interesting than conversation with humans.

  Elias stopped on a rock ledge and cast a fond look behind them. “That hasn’t changed, at least. Him and his rocks.”

  “He can move them. Shape them. I’ve known other Earth mages, but not like him.” Toby wrenched his gaze back around so he was watching the path.

  “Earth-Metal goes together really well, and Valstad? He’s powerful. Sometimes I think the guildmasters were jealous of just how powerful.”

  “You have Metal, right? Can you do things like he does?”

  The answering bark of laughter made Toby flush in embarrassment. Gods, how sheltered had he been with his family?

  “No. Without a Major Arcanum, I can’t pull a lot of power. But that’s all right. I leave the big things to folks like our professor. I do little things.” Elias stopped to run his fingers along the edge of a crack in a ledge beside them. The crack smoothed under his touch, the rock shelf healing. “Most of the mountain here is sandstone and quartzite, which is one of the reasons I was drawn here. Silica in the rock and carbon in the shale and the plants satisfies my Crystallogen need. There’s enough iron intrusions in the rock for my Metal and enough limestone for the Alkaline. I fix little things. A plant stem here. A broken bird leg there. I don’t need to feel the earth move under my feet.”