#mage!janus

Remus rolled his eyes and stretched past Logan to reach the kettle. “I knew you were there.”

Arms crossed over his chest, Roman shook his head. “That is not the same thing and you can’t—”

“Ro?” Logan prompted, giving Remus’ hand a squeeze even as he nodded encouragingly at Roman. “Why did you sneak the bough onto the path?”

The twins exchanged a look, neither saying a word, so Logan pushed.

“I understand why you made yourselves appear young…” Recalling his terror when they’d first revealed their true selves, their explanation hadn’t actually been necessary. “But why didn’t you simply come along with Re?”

Again, there was another silent conversation between the brothers. Finally, Roman shrugged. “Well…”

“He got to meet you first… first,” Remus explained, full lips curled up in that crooked smile. “When we were kids? Remember?”

And Logan did. It had taken more than a week for him to realize his new friend was two new friends and not simply one mercurial boy whose temperament seemed to shift day to day. When Logan had figured it out, spending hours playing with both of them outside their house, he’d gone running back home, calling for his mother before he’d gotten to the path to his own house.

But even Logan hadn’t been excited enough—or young enough—to miss the worried pinch in his mother’s face and her furtive protective blessing at the mention of twins.

“You should know, Logan,” Janus murmured from the fireplace. “Not all identical twins are fae. It’s only a Southern myth that says they are.” His sharp expression left Logan wondering whether mind-reading was one of those specialties Patton had said his teacher might someday share with him. “In fact most of what is ‘known’ about the fae in the South is pure fantasy and fear mongering.”

“To tell you the truth,” he said more to the floor than to the twins. “I thought the fae themselves were a myth…” Forcing the courage to meet their eyes, Logan sighed in relief at their matching grins. He bumped Remus’ shoulder and squeezed Roman’s hand. “You’re nothing like the stories say.”

“Are you sure?” Remus teased. “We might just be hoping to drag you back to our hidden castle through a fairy circle. Make you ours forever.”

“He is ours forever,” Roman muttered, shaking his head.

Logan’s eyes widened. Roman’s lips hadn’t moved when he spoke, but Logan had heard his voice as clear as anything. “What did you—” Shaking his head to free it of his hallucination, he glanced back at Remus. Had he heard it, as well?

Remus grinned back at him before sticking out his tongue at his brother. “I told he’d pick it up today.”

“No-one likes to hear ‘I-told-you-so,’ Re,” Roman retorted silently.

“Boys?” Patton said aloud from the fire. “Remember your manners, please. Use your voices.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but he nodded. “We will, Padre,” he said aloud, offering the first tea to Janus with a little bow of apology. “Mostly,” he said silently to Logan and Roman.

Eyes narrowed even as he chuckled, Janus sipped his tea. “These two must’ve been a handful when they were young.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Patton laughed, ruffling Roman’s hair as he set down a tray laden with stew and still-warm bread. Roman smiled, not only accepting the gesture but leaning into it for a moment before heading back to the kitchen for mugs for everyone else.

Patton continued. “I think the day they tried to transform into moose to get out of chores was the day I got half of these,” he said, tugging cheerfully at the silver in his hair.

Logan found a place at the table and Roman and Remus settled on either side of him. “Did they transform inside?” Patton’s home was much larger than his own but even this space would become… dangerous with two full-size moose inside.

Laughing, the twins exchanged a guilty glance. “That wasn’t the worst of it.”

Seemingly in on the joke, Janus shook his head with a barely suppressed grin. “Transforming into an animus is the easy part,” he explained. “It’s getting out of it that requires… planning.”

“Yeah, I still haven’t gotten all this,” Remus tugged at the soft silver tuft in his own bangs, “Back to my real color.”

Roman laughed. “Are you sure you’re not just going grey like Padre?”

“Ah! The gall!” he scoffed, hand pressed over his heart. “You’re one to—” But before Remus could finish—and before Logan could stop himself—he reached over and twirled a silver lock around his finger. Remus froze mid-sentence.

“You wear the silver well,” he said, then let his hand fall back to his plate and busied himself breaking off a bit of bread to dip in the stew.

Nothing Roman said through their entire dinner could dim Remus’ grin.

~

Washing up went quickly with the five of them—well, four and a half of them: At his first yawn, Patton ushered Janus into a nest of cushions next to the fire. “You know I could get used to this,” he teased from behind one of his endless cups of tea, then looked away as though he’d said something out of turn.

Logan continued to dry the dishes the twins had scrubbed and rinsed, watching his teacher carefully. He hadn’t sounded… ill-mannered but perhaps Janus better understood the unspoken rules. Logan glanced at Roman, who nodded knowingly.

It was easy to understand everything going on when you literally had seen it all before.

But Patton didn’t seem put out in the least. Instead, he took the long way past Janus’ seat to reset a fresh kettle over the fire. He patted Janus’ knee as he passed and nodded. “I hope you do,” he murmured, nearly too quiet for Logan to hear.

Remus handed him another dish. “Do you want to know?” he asked silently.

Logan glanced again at Janus, watching his eyes follow Patton back to the shelves lining the wall next to the wood stove. Janus looked… Logan searched for a word other than ‘afraid.’ He’d watched Janus face down a dozen armed me. Why did he look afraid of Patton?

He turned to Remus and nodded. “Please,” he whispered.

“Hey, Padre,” Remus grinned and bounced over to Patton’s side. “Would you make Logan a cup of tea?”

“Oh, thank you, but that is unnecessary,” Logan shook his head. “I can prepare tea, I—”

Those kind eyes found him then and, like they had in the forest, seemed to look right into him. It only lasted a moment and a smile soon bloomed on his face. “Well, sure thing, Kiddo.” He peeked into the sink at the three remaining dishes and nodded at the already scrubbed table. “By the time it’s done steeping, we’ll be done here.”

“You heard him, Logie,” Remus danced back, rinsing the next dish with fresh energy. “Let’s keep going.” He winked over his shoulder after passing him another clean, dripping bowl. “Reading leaves works better if someone else makes the tea for you,” he added silently.

“Oh,” Logan breathed. His vision of Janus seized him. His teacher falling, a blade sticking from him as he… Janus had made him the tea that had given him that shimmer of the future. And it had… well, his vision hadn’t come to full fruition but if it hadn’t been for Patton’s ministrations it might have.

Roman turned then and wiped his soapy hands clean before putting away the dry dish Logan clung to with one hand. He kept a grip on Logan’s hands with the other. “Do you trust us?”

Busy with the dishes, the turn of Remus’ head showed he paid more attention to their conversation than it might have appeared to Patton and Janus. Logan nodded and rolled all of his hope and fear into a ball and pushed out the silent word, “Yes.”

~

The twins sat next to him, long legs folded and tucked against his as he drained most of his cup. It was likely obvious to both Patton and Janus what they were doing, but the older pair gave them as much privacy as the close space would allow, murmuring quietly to each other over their own cups of milky tea.

Shifting the dregs of his tea back and forth, Logan peered down into his cup and saw… He saw the room they were in. Fireplace blazing, bread rising on the table. Different herbs sprouted in the windowsill and three new shelves were packed into the corner, piled with books. The books he’d saved from his home, including his spellbook, were stacked neatly among them.

Patton and Janus sat close to one another, a large book balanced on their laps. The twins sat with Logan, his head resting on Remus’ shoulder, Roman’s pillowed Logan’s own lap. Roman’s hand was intertwined with his while Remus’ fingers gently carded through the hair falling over the back of his neck.

Logan’s hair was longer in the vision, well past his shoulders. He blinked lazily as he drowsed with them, warm and ensconced in softness. And love. His eyes finally closed and that was when Remus drew him back more fully against his chest and pressed a soft kiss against his forehead. Vision Logan’s eyes opened then and he tilted up his face, smiling when Remus kissed his lips.

Laughing, Roman turned and craned his neck, only laying back down when Logan gave him his kiss, as well.

Logan gasped and the cup slipped from his grip. Right into Roman’s waiting hands.

“Is…” Back in the real world, in the now, the vision wouldn’t fade, and Logan’s eyes were drawn to each of their mouths. “Is it real? Will—will it be real?” he whispered, falling into the same sort of tense confusion the twins had earlier.

“It can be,” Roman said carefully.

Remus gripped his hand, biting his lower lip. “If you want it to be.”

Logan shivered, mouth dry as he fought to make sense of his vision. This wasn’t at all what he'd expected to see. He'd expected to see some explanation for the odd, careful way Janus and Patton moved around each other. He'd expected to see whether he would master all the spells he needed to become a full mage. He'd expected to see nearly anything but…

Still smiling, Roman pulled a soft blanket from the basket next to them and laid it across their laps. “You’re cold,” he whispered, smoothing it over their legs. “And Re’s practically asleep.”

“Wha—” The candles in front of them were noticeably lower than last he’d looked. Janus and Patton sat across from them, backs straight and attention on him. Eyes closed, Remus was curled against him, still holding his hand. The other loosely tangled in his sleeve.

Janus made no effort to hide what he knew. “Would it help to talk about your vision?” he asked.  “Was it… concerning?”

Logan’s cheeks warmed and he shook his head, looking down at the blanket Roman had laid in his lap. It was the same one from his vision. “No,” he finally said. “Not concerning a—at all. It was…” He smiled when Roman took his other hand and leaned close. “It was rather nice, actually.”

Not pretending to understand, Janus nodded. After a long moment, he returned to his quiet conversation with Patton, leaving the rest of the questions swimming in his eyes for another time.

Logan settled back against the cushions and Roman moved with him, his own sleepy eyes drooping. They’d helped him carry Janus on the day's hike back to their home. And stayed up with him the night before while he’d waited for Janus to wake.

It seemed, though, even fae needed sleep. Head heavy on Logan’s shoulder, Roman, too, was soon asleep.

Before long, Logan felt sleep’s embrace pulling him down to join them. As he was about to drift off, Remus curled closer, one long arm wrapped tightly around his middle. “You never do choose,” he mumbled close to his ear. Uncertain if he was even awake, Logan craned his neck and was met by bright green eyes smiling back at him. “And you won’t ever have to.”

~

Patton and Janus’ conversation quieted as they watched the trio fall asleep. Whatever Logan had seen lost its bite under the twins’ gentle care. The phantom ache in his side reminded Janus that Logan’s visions were accurate to the point of pain. Learning to cope with the knowledge of what was to come could be… challenging. Especially if he tried to bear the burden alone. He hoped that between all of them gathered in Patton’s home, Logan would decide to confide in one of them when he needed.

Though Janus couldn’t quite allow himself to hope that they would be there for long.

“So when you left our school to study in Kalgree, you went South instead?” He wanted to sound stern or perhaps even a little angry as they returned to their earlier discussion. The catch in his voice betrayed him.

“I was called,” Patton shrugged with a little wince, and stood to drew a thick knitted blanket over the three of them. “The boys were children. Barely more than five when the village exiled them. If they’d been human they…” He shook his head, dark clouds hiding his ordinarily sunny smile. “They wouldn’t’ve survived, Jan.”

“Like the miller’s child,” Janus frowned into his cup.

Surprise flashed over Patton’s face but it didn't last. Two decades raising precognitive fae seemed to have made it unnecessary to ask how Janus knew about the third child the town had banished. “Like the miller’s child,” he nodded. Patton settled on the cushion next to him, thigh to thigh. “After I’d found them, the boys wouldn’t leave the woods. Not without Logan, they said.”

“You said they called you?” Janus tilted his head at his student, face slack and smooth in sleep. How many of his luminaria had been going to these fae?

“Their powers called me. Drew me here. I couldn’t’ve resisted if I’d tried.” His little smile told Janus he was glad for it, too. “Their powers run through this whole forest. I don’t think they’ve even discovered the full extent of what they can do yet.” He watched them sleep, face softening into that fond little smile.

“They’re of the forest,” Janus murmured, the magic he’d seen swirling through the woods suddenly making more sense.

Patton nodded. “It’s what drew them to Logan when they were children. I…” He shrugged and finished Janus’ neglected cup. “I don’t know how much they consciously understood then.”

In sleep, the trio piled together in a tangle of limbs and interlaced hands, pups snuggled close. Patton refreshed both their teas, watching him watching them.

Janus murmured a thanks and blew at the hot brew before taking a careful sip. “Will they leave the woods now that he’s with them?”

Carefully resting one arm over the cushion at Janus’ back, Patton drank his own tea. “They’ve told me for years they go wherever he goes.”

Janus sipped his tea, swallowing back the question fighting its way to his lips. The fireplace crackled across the room as he counted his breaths, waiting for Patton to say something—to say anything that might draw the conversation down a different path.

He never did. Eventually, Janus’ cup emptied and he whispered into it, “And what about you?” The question sat between them as he turned the cup in his hands.

Patton finished his tea and had set down the empty cup, butter yellow curls shining in the afternoon sun. “Thank you, Jan,” he grinned, meeting Janus’ eyes. “Just what I needed for the road ahead.”

Janus’ tea had grown cold and he stared down into the pale brew. Don’t leave. They don’t need you in Kalgree as much as I need you. Please just stay here. Stay with me. Stay—

“Stay safe,” Janus said instead, passing him his travel satchel.

“You’ve enchanted it,” he’d smiled, hefting the loaded bag easily with just two fingers. “Always looking out for me, aren’t you, Jan?”

Eyes wet, Janus had ducked his head as he cleared away the cups. “Always, Pat.”

Patton was smiling when at last Janus looked up. He took Janus’ empty cup and set it next to his own, then he held his hands, calloused thumbs rubbing circles into the backs of them. “Let’s find out together,” he whispered, raising Janus’ hands to his lips. “If you’ll have me back, that is.”

“Just go to your own room before you get all ‘reacquainted,’” Remus rumbled from his spot curled against Logan’s left side. He winked at them over the blankets then settled back with a sleepy sigh.

Stifling a laugh, Janus nodded, allowing Patton to help him to his feet. “Always, Pat.”

Epilogue

“Very good,” Janus nodded, hefting another stone as Logan readied himself for the next attack. “Keep your staff high until you’re prepared to…”

“To take ‘em out!” Remus cheered from the doorway. He tugged at the satchel looped over his shoulders and skipped down the steps to meet them.

“Re!” Roman called after him. “You left me with the heavy one!”

Remus rolled his eyes and sat cross-legged a few feet from where Janus was drilling Logan's defensive charms one last time. “They’re enchanted, Ro Bro! They're all the same!”

“It’s the principle,” he muttered, pout melting when Patton gave him a side hug.

"Perhaps we can trade bags for the trek back home?" Logan suggested with a soft smile.

Roman preened, nodding as he blew a kiss back. "Thank you, Lo," he said before shooting his brother a frown. "Someone understands."

"I understand, I'm just saying—“ he silently shot back.

“Okay, Kiddos, let's let Logan get in one more round, please,” Patton said, shaking his head. He sat next to Remus and smiled up at the dueling pair. “Show him how it’s done!”

“Precisely which one of us are you cheering, Pat?” Janus asked, smiling too much to sound annoyed.

Patton simply shrugged and beckoned Roman closer to watch with them.

“You've got this,” the twins’ voice filled Logan’s mind and he shot each of them a quick smile before raising his staff just in time to block the fiery stone Janus lobbed in his direction.

Janus laughed as the twins leapt to their feet and swept Logan up in a hug. “Well done, Logan!” he said, moving closer to squeeze his shoulder. “You’re ready.”

Nodding, Logan stood a little taller as his teacher adjusted the clasp on his new blue cloak. “And you know who to look for,” he said for at least the tenth time that day. Janus raised a single finger when Remus inhaled, ready to speak. “Do not speak his name until someone speaks it first. No matter the inroads we’ve made, two fae and a Mage traipsing into the village and asking to meet a toddler named Virgil will not end well.”

“I was going to say 'doesn’t Logie look good in blue,'” Remus said in mock offense.

“No you weren’t,” Roman muttered.

“Yeah, no, I wasn’t.” Remus shrugged and winked at Logan. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

“They’re ready, Jan,” Patton murmured, hooking his arm through Janus’. “We’ll see you tomorrow if all goes well?”

Janus thrummed his fingers against his staff. “And tonight if it doesn’t.”

“It’ll go well,” Roman and Remus said in unison, laughing as they headed toward the creek and the village beyond the edge of the woods.

Logan lingered, and waved one more time at Patton and Janus. Patton held Janus’ hand close to his own heart, the only sign his teacher was more anxious than he was willing to admit to his student.

Worry creased the man's forehead, but he smiled, a warm, inviting grin that softened the splinters growing in Logan’s throat. He was a complete stranger, and the three of them had made an impossible claim. He didn’t even know this man’s name, let alone even begin to understand how—

“Call me Patton,” he said, like he’d heard his thoughts. “And here,” he added, offering the lucis. “These are for you.”

Logan held out his own hand and the lucis flew to him. The lights floated above his palm, bouncing against his fingertips and each other. Warmth washed over his hand and flowed up his arm, filling his chest with each breath. But the lights didn’t change shape the way they had in Janus’ palm, and Logan looked up, question on his tongue. Before he could ask, Patton nodded.

“Kiddos?” He turned and addressed Imaginary—real? And grown?—Roman and Remus. “Will you help Logan with your charms while I take a look at Janus?”

“How…” Tears pricked his eyes and the lucis tapped his palm, reassuring. “How do you know my name? How do you know his name?”

“C’mon, Logie.” Remus took one arm and Roman the other. Together, they helped him to his feet without him having to let go of either the lucis or his staff. “We’ll show you how to use these.”

Roman grinned at him, giving his arm a squeeze. “Then Padre will explain everything.”

Clutching the lucis close to his chest, Logan nodded and let himself be led to the other side of the firepit.

A blend of spice and sage filled the air when Patton loosened the knot keeping his satchel closed. Logan peered over his shoulder, watching as the man pulled several clay jars and a hollowed out stone dish from his bag.

He froze. “You’re a chemist!”

“Yes.” Eyes twinkling, Patton nodded. “Khymiá is my specialty, like Janus’ is protection charms and…” He smiled down at Janus, removing his own cloak to serve as a pillow beneath his head. “And a few other tricks he’ll likely show you some day.” Patton's eyes flashed over to Roman, nodding in silent conversation. “Janus has taken you on as student, yes?”

He didn’t know what else to do but nod. He’d thought chemistry was a myth. There were warnings of it in the few books he could find that mentioned magic. Usually it was as the villain of children’s stories of dragons and telepathy and… prophecy.

Logan’s throat went dry.

“You’re going to learn so much!” Remus bounced on his toes, both hands gripping his sleeve. His eyebrows twitched as his whole body vibrated, a leaf on the wind. Just like he used to when they were little. “You’re going to be just like us! Someday all you’ll need to do is touch someone and you’ll—”

“Re?” Patton interrupted with a crooked smile. “First things first, please. Help Logan with the charms. You heard him—he’s exhausted himself.”

It took Patton’s pointed look at his wobbling knees for Logan to realize he’d have fallen over if the twins didn’t have him in their grip. He tried to straighten, to stand on his own, but only fumbled the lucis. They never dropped, though, and remained close to him, hovering patiently.

“We’ve got you, Lo,” Roman murmured near his ear and carefully sat him in a mossy spot near the fire Logan was sure hadn't been there before.

“And we’re never, ever leaving you alone again!” Remus grinned, all teeth and laughter.

“Don’t scare him, Re!” Roman shook his head. “You make it sound like a threat!”

“Eh, promise, threat…” Remus winked at him and, despite himself, Logan chuckled. “It’s all the same thing.”

Lulled by the familiar bickering and the warm purr of the lucis in his hands, Logan had begun to regain a bit of the hope he’d felt when Janus had first promised to teach him. “You… You really are you,” he said, cheeks warming at the inanity of his words. “I m—I mean…” He peered closely at each of them. The brows above his friends’ familiar green eyes now thick, their voices deep and rough. Hands strong. But their movements, their words… they… “You two haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you,” Roman smiled, cupping his hands before him, palms up.

“Eh… You’re a helluva lot skinnier,” Remus said, mimicking his brother’s pose, laying his hands on top of Roman’s. “But Pop’s cooking’ll take care of that.”

At the mention of their father—teacher? Was padre the same as Consililario?—Logan peeked past Remus’ shoulder at Patton and Janus. The chemist had lifted Janus’ tunic, tutting quietly as he prodded at the wound. Dipping a cloth in a solution from one of the clay pots, he wiped away the new blood that had collected, whispering under his breath.

Right before his eyes, the wound closed and Janus’ bleeding stopped. With a little rhythmic hum, Patton’s broad shoulders dropped in obvious relief. He tucked the cloak around Janus’ form again, gently stroking the hand he’d laid over top.

“See?” Roman whispered. “Padre takes good care of him.”

Logan’s brow furrowed in confusion. But before he could work out just what felt odd about Roman’s words, Remus moved their hands beneath his, layering Logan’s between the lucis and the twins’. “Now let us take care of you, Logie.”

~

Light danced over Janus’ closed eyes, soft red fading into black. Whispers wove through his dreams, an old melody he’d almost forgotten. Laughter. He was wrapped in warmth and softness, fluffy down and golden sunlight. The fire at his back abated, high tide retreating with the rising sun.

It grew quiet again and he drifted in darkness and dream, honeysuckle fields and the clear blue bay. Starlit paths. A strong, soft hand in his.

He woke to candlelight, a damp cloth at his forehead and a deep voice humming a healing chant. He groaned when he swallowed, throat papery, and licked dry lips. The humming stopped and a wave of nutmeg and clove and honey filled his lungs. A cup was lifted to his mouth and he drank.

Slowly, Janus blinked and eyes the color of the Puget Bay appeared before him. The entire room glowed with their light.

“I know those eyes,” he murmured, voice cracking. He drank gratefully when the cup tapped his lips again.

“I should certainly hope so, Mister,” Patton replied with a put-upon huff and a poorly concealed grin. “It hasn’t been that long.”

“It’s been long enough to dearly miss—Logan!” Janus bolted upright, spilling the potion. His head whipped around the room as he fought with the blankets tangling his legs. “Logan? Where’s—” He pulled at Patton’s sleeve. “Please, Pat! My student—He's—Where’s—I sent him to find a sta—”

“Shhh, Jan… Everything’s alright,” Patton soothed. “Logan’s fine. He’s perfectly safe.” He nodded slowly and smiled when Janus stilled. He straightened the covers and dabbed at the wet spot with a towel. “Logan’s in the other room with my boys.”

“Your…” Janus stared at him. “Your boys?”

Patton smiled back, laughter in his eyes. “My boys. If you’re feeling strong enough to get up, we can get you all introduced.”

Janus took his offered hand, surprised at how little his side ached as Patton slowly helped him sit up again. “Lead the way.”

~

The main room in Patton’s home bubbled with activity, a large fire snapping and popping in one corner, a lush sitting area with a low table and puffy cushions and knitted throws across from it. The opposite corner, beneath a window box bursting with herbs and flowers, housed a long worktable covered with vials and jars and the large crucible Janus had helped Patton cast when they young.

At the other end of the room sat the kitchen. Crowded together on the wood stove, three pots simmered and spat, spilling the scent of garlic and ginger and fresh morels into the air. A loaf of bread sat cooling in one corner, and the yeasty aroma wafting from under a towel-covered bowl next to it meant another loaf was well on its way.

The biggest source of activity in the room, though, were the three men working over the heavy wooden table, chopping and peeling and stirring. And laughing.

Janus paused at the doorway, one hand on his staff, the other hooked through Patton’s steady arm. Logan’s face was bright, the warmth of the fire and the company bringing a rosy glow he’d yet to see on his new student’s face. His aura was blinding, waves of deep blue dancing at the edges every time the glittery red and green auras of the others—Patton’s ‘boys’ were fae?—overlapped.

He sighed, a release of worry for his student, for his future, for his ability to find peace enough to practice and learn and live after all he’d already been through.

The soft sound managed to alert the trio to their presence. “Janus!” Logan cried, smile growing as he rushed to wipe his hands on a towel tied at his waist. He dashed past the table and ran to him arms open wide, hesitating only at the last moment before embracing him.

“Is this your doing?” Janus stepped closer and released Patton’s arm to pull Logan into a hug.

Logan melted against him, nodding before giving a little shrug. “They came for us when I sent luminaria.”

Pride burst from Janus’ chest and he pulled back to meet Logan's eyes. “You sent them on your own?”

He caught Patton’s eye over Logan’s shoulder and Patton beamed. “He sure did!”

“I’m so proud of you, Logan,” Janus whispered. “I showed you the spell only once.”

“You needed help I couldn’t give,” Logan whispered back. “My magic could not help you.”

“Oh, Logan,” Janus shook his head and cupped Logan’s cheek. “Look where we are. Your magic did help me.”

Grinning, Patton ruffled Logan’s hair. “He’s right, Kiddo. And you should’ve seen him, Jan.” Logan’s eyebrow quirked up at the nickname but he only listened. “He looked ready to take our heads off with his staff before I could convince him we wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Your staff?” Janus’ eyes widened. “You found one?”

“Well… It is uncarved, and…” Logan demurred. “And I…”

The thinner twin turned and stroked his back, nudging him toward the door. “Logie, show him.”

Logan looked back at each of them and the twin fae grinned at him with matching smiles. Lip caught between his teeth, Logan hurried to the doorway where a tall bluish branch lay propped next to a row of cloaks and boots.

The room exploded in light no-one else could see as Logan drew near the bough, a bright blue-white streaming from his hand as he reached for it. Logan and his staff’s aura filled Janus’ vision, slowly dimming until he could just make out his form as he returned, presenting his staff to him.

“Logan,” he gasped. “It’s remarkable.” Fighting to clear his vision, Janus blinked until he could see the broad smile brushed across his student’s face.

Logan looked over his shoulder at Patton’s ‘boys’ and smiled. “I had help from some old friends. I…” Moving the staff to one hand, he held it upright like Janus held his. He let his free hand float near Janus’ and the staff responded, golden light spraying out to meet his hand. Logan smiled and stretched his fingers, likely feeling the light.

“The first wood I found was just like yours. Buzzy and… warm. I thought it was the wood I should choose. But then…” He grinned at the twins. “They helped me find this one and…”

Janus gripped his shoulder. “And you knew.”

By the time Janus was done, the sharp sting of his wound had blossomed into a hot, throbbing ache. The stamina spell—the very same one he’d chastised Logan for using—had closed the wound, successfully stopping the bleeding, but had done nothing to heal the damage below the surface. Until his luminaria returned, he needed to be judicious with his magic, leaving him the choice between starting the fire and finishing the healing spell.

“This should last through the night… Do you think?” Logan looked up from his work, face hidden in shadow. But the shadows couldn’t conceal the worry in his voice. As much as Janus had tried, he had been unable to prevent him from catching a glimpse of the blood staining his tunic, nor had he properly concealed his pained movements.

Just as well. When the luminaria returned, he would have another spell to teach him. In the meantime, there was the matter of the fire.

Setting his staff firmly into the ground, Janus rose to his feet. Fire arced up under his ribs and the world spun. Grateful the darkness hid his shakiness, he stepped closer to the inner circle and took a moment to steady himself.

Finally, he turned to Logan. “You have the pyrocasting spell memorized?”

Tucking his hands in his tunic as he approached, Logan nodded. “Yes, I… I know it.”

Janus smiled and gripped his shoulder. “I ask that you not repeat the words tonight,” he said gently. “But take hold of my staff with me.” Switching hands, he held his staff between them, rooted into the ground.

Starlight graced Logan’s grin as he wrapped his fingers tightly around the staff just above Janus’ hand.

“Very good. Now, relax your arm and your shoulder. Feel the ground beneath your feet.” He waited for Logan to follow before tapping once, chanting, “Ignis, lapidum.”

Logan remained silent, but his arm moved stiffly when Janus tapped the ground. “Don’t try to hold on to the power, just let it move through you from the earth and the staff. Let’s try again. Ignis, lapidum,” he repeated. This time, Logan’s arm moved smoothly, his aura glowing brightly.

“Much better,” Janus nodded and tapped again, chanting with each movement. “Ignis, lapidum. Ignis, lapidum. Ignis—”

On the fourth repetition, flames roared up in the center of the circle, filling their refuge with light and warmth. “You did it!” Logan exclaimed, stepping closer to the fire, chilled hands open to its heat.

“We did it together,” Janus insisted, then tapped the strap of his bag still slung over Logan’s shoulder. “Help me with what’s inside here. We’ll have some tea and a bit of bread, then sleep.”

~

Huddled under his threadbare blanket, face tucked inside to warm himself with his own exhalations, Logan’s teeth chattered in the quiet of the woods.

“Logan,” Janus began, and he held his breath.

“Y—yes? I’m…” His voice trembled with cold. “I’m sorry, am I disturbing you?”

“No, of course not. I was merely going to suggest you take my cloak.”

“But then you would be cold,” he said, sitting up and shaking his head. “You’re injured—I—You hide it, but I saw. You need warmth.”

“Very well, then,“ Janus conceded when Logan returned to his thin blanket as though he’d somehow won their debate. “Come,” Janus said, lifting his blanket and patting the bedroll next to him. “Lay with me. We’ll both be warmer together.”

“Y—you… I…” Logan curled around himself and the swirling blue aura Janus was slowly becoming accustomed to contracted, the edges greying as the color receded into a tiny center near his heart. He shook his head and remained on the other side of the fire. “I am… I am fine here,” he said, shuddering.

Months—years?—of poor care had taken such a toll on him that even a simple cold night was draining him and his power. Janus could not let his student suffer alone. “I insist.” Again, he patted the bedroll beside him, smiling. “If you do not come here, I will come to you.”

Janus waited patiently as his aura shrunk to a pinprick of light and finally Logan nodded, rising and clutching his thin blanket to his chest. He moved to lie down, perched on the edge of the bed roll.

“You won’t hurt me, Logan.” Janus draped the heavier blanket over both of them. “Come closer,” he urged. “It’s alright.”

Despite the new warmth, Logan’s shivering didn’t stop.

“Do you need some tea? It won’t take long—”

“It’s fine.” He shook his head, sliding closer and holding himself stiffly. “Just… Go ahead. How… how should I… I—I mean, how do you like… ” His voice trailed off, hands hovering near his belt.

Logan wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Janus blinked back at him,  “Go ahea—?” Realization ripped through his heart. “Oh—oh, Logan. No…” He reached for him, cupping his cheek as he had earlier that night. This time, though, instead of tentatively leaning in to his touch, Logan stiffened, jaw trembling at the contact.

Janus lowered his hand, heart clenched in his chest. No… “By all the Stars, Logan, no… Never.”

He finally raised his eyes, confusion and fear competing.

“Logan? Am I understanding you? Did you think I was insisting that you…” The words soured on his tongue.

“I… I assumed you’d decided that was how I was meant to repay you for… everything.” He cast his gaze over Janus shoulder, cheeks blazing. “You… you would not be the first to decide that.”

“Who dared to—” The demand spilled from his lips before he could stop it. Logan curled in on himself and he shuddered the way he had talking to the brute who’d banged on his door. Janus swallowed back the fire in his throat. “That man in your home? Cass?”

“Cassian,” Logan confirmed with a whisper, face dipped into shadow.

Cassian. Hollow, in the old tongue. Empty. A shell with nothing worthwhile within it.

“My dear Logan, no.” Janus shook his head. Fury burned in his chest, but fear his student might mistake the source of his rage kept his face calm and his voice soft.  “No. I will never require that of you.”

Blue flames sparked and swirled around Logan’s heart but his eyes were cautious when he finally looked up. “You’re not…” he began, watching Janus’ expression as his mouth worked silently. “You’re not angry?”

Again Janus shook his head. “Not with you.”

“I never wanted—I… intended…It was…” Logan’s voice caught and he turned, face painted with shadow. “It is difficult to explain.”

“Try me,” Janus whispered. “If you wish.”

Logan looked away and let out a slow, shuddering breath. Janus had begun to believe Logan had decided to let the subject drop when finally he spoke. “He kept a… collection of people. People he would… People who needed…” The unspoken details hung in the air between them.

Janus recalled the plush rabbit’s fur lining the man’s boots, and the soft, unmarred leather gloves on his hands. “His family is wealthy,” Janus guessed. What passed for wealth in the South, at least. Without magic, without real medicine, what had once been great cities of learning and power had crumbled. But the evidence of the Great Grab that consumed the old Southern Empire after the Inquisitores lingered, even in this small village.

Logan nodded.

“He will not hurt you again,” Fire sparked in his chest and he pushed down his fury. Its time would come. “I will not let him hurt you again.”

Logan looked up, eyes wide. And hopeful.

“I am your consigliere, Logan. And your friend.” He offered his hands, palm up. “I am here to teach you and to guide you as you discover all you can do with magic.” He nodded slowly when Logan reached for his hands. “And to protect you from anyone who might do you harm until you can protect yourself.”

“You make it sound like I’m a helpless child,” he muttered. But he didn’t let go. “Useless.”

“No,” Janus’ voice was stern and Logan quickly looked up, the fear in his eyes melting when Janus smiled back at him. “Far from it. Logan, I found you because of the magic—your magic—you have been pouring out in to the world. Your luminaria have helped countless mages. Even without teaching, you have helped so many.”

“What… what do people do with the lucis they receive?”

“You will see when ours return. We’re far from any magical communities, so the fastest of them won’t likely reach us until tomorrow. But you will see for yourself the good you have already done.”

Logan’s aura brightened, not quite as strong as it had been when they’d first met, now with smoky edges tugging at his power with crooked fingers. He listened, though, and after a while, he nodded and gripped Janus’ hand with both of his own. “Will the lucis help with your wound?”

“Yes,” Janus admitted. “And I will teach you that spell in the morning, as well. After you find your staff.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Again, Logan had looked away, jaw set in that frown Janus was beginning to recognize as shame. Janus wasn’t yet sure whether it was shame at not knowing or shame at a real or imagined mistake—was there much of a difference for a novice?

“I didn’t know you found your staff. I thought it had been carved and…”

“You’re correct,” Janus chuckled, gently nodding. “Yes, it will be carved. I mean you must first find the bough out of which your staff will be formed.”

“What kind of wood should I look for?”

“You and the wood will find each other. Something strong and flexible. Yew is a good choice. Or maple. Aspen.”

“Hmm,” Logan’s voice grew soft and his head drooped against Janus’ shoulder. No longer fueled by cold and fear and worry, sleep had wrapped delicate fingers around him, tugging him toward dreams. “But how will I know it’s the right one?” He mumbled.

His own staff tucked under the bedroll, its curve reassuring against his back, Janus hummed and drew the blankets up to Logan’s chin. “Your instincts will guide you if you listen to them.”

Logan’s eyes snapped open and he clung to his hand. “But how will I know? I don’t know what I’m doing and I…” Words faltering, he looked down at their shared grip, shaking his head. “I’ve been so wrong about you. Twice. I thought you’d come to take my book and that you…” He swallowed audibly, aura flickering before burning brightly again.

Janus held his hand and waited.

“I’m so sorry,” he finally whispered.

“My dear Logan,” Janus murmured and gently tilted up his chin so their eyes would meet. “You do not ever need to apologize to me for being afraid. The world has given you much to fear, but when you find just a bit more trust in yourself,” he smiled and tapped Logan’s sternum. “Right here, you will know.”

Logan’s eyes searched his, flickering in the firelight. “You sound so sure.”

“That’s because I am,” Janus hummed, tucking the blankets closer around them. “I can see your strength, Logan. Listen to yourself and you will know.”

Logan stared back at him as the crinkle between his brows slowly softened. Nodding, Logan’s eyes slowly closed and his head grew heavier on Janus’ shoulder. “Thank you,” he mumbled and slowly sleep took him.

‘Thank you.’ For what? For not stealing from you? For not trying to suppress your magic? For not abusing you?

Janus’ control cracked and, jaw clenched, a low growl pushed its way up from the back of his throat at the memory of the hungry grins of the men at Logan’s doorway. Yes, Logan would find his staff in the morning.

And Janus would find them.

But now was a time for rest. Morning would come all too soon. Janus let his eyes close and matched his breathing to Logan’s. When his jaw relaxed, he opened his eyes and focused on the precious novice mage beside him. He’d found him far later than he wished he could have. And far, far later than Logan needed to have been found.

But he was here now. Features smooth in sleep, Logan looked nearly whole, gaunt cheeks and the thready pulse visible at the thin skin at his temple the only clues to the jagged pain laying beneath the softness of slumber.

With a lingering glance at his empty tea cup, Logan nodded and carefully closed the spellbook. He brought it to his bed and hid it under the blanket before moving to answer the door. Janus slipped behind him, yielding control of the space. He smiled, strong and reassuring, though his eyes darted back to the door as the voices outside grew louder. Janus’ posture appeared relaxed but the grip on his staff didn’t loosen and a rush of magical warmth enveloped them both when he tapped the floor between them. Logan smiled his thanks and took a deep breath before pulling open the door.

Fist still raised, the village-Reeve’s burly son Cassian barely managed to avoid falling into his house when the door was suddenly no longer there. Without thinking, Logan’s hands moved to catch him.

“Watch it!” Cassian spat, stumbling back like his touch could burn. Janus shifted beside him and Logan bowed his head, hoping to hide the shame heating his cheeks. What must the mage now think that he realized he was in a pariah's home.

“Merely hoped to stop you from falling,” Logan murmured before slowly raising his head. “What brings you here to my door?” he asked, pretending he could not hear their taunting shouts.

“He does.” Cassian’s gaze bore into Janus’ face, eyeing his scars, his cloak. His staff. “You, Mage.”

The disrespect in his tone burned in Logan’s chest and it was only when Janus rested one hand on his shoulder that he realized his own were fisted at his sides, nails digging into his palms. 

“You were spotted on the outskirts, sizing up the town like you owned it.” Cassian crossed his arms and the thick-necked crew gathered close behind him. “Then, instead of visiting the town hall or even the parish to pay your respects, you came…” He sneered over Logan’s shoulder at his simple home. “Here.”

Janus waited until Cassian turned to face him again before speaking. “I am unfamiliar with that Southern greeting,” he said. “I made no mistake, then, guessing which of this village’s homes would provide a proper welcome to a guest.”

“Proper?” A rough voice scoffed from the back of the crowd growing around his front door. “You call this hovel proper?” Logan looked around Cassian and met his eyes. The man—the boy, really, had been his mother’s sister’s youngest, Juniper.

He looked away under Logan’s scrutiny.

“Yes,” Janus remarked lightly, ignoring the rest of the interruption. “My new friend Logan has been a gracious host and I have been more than comfortable with his hospitality.” He blinked placidly, the tiny circles he traced against his staff and the aspen's low responding buzz Logan’s only clue Janus had noted Cassian’s threatening posture.

As well as the crowd’s increasing numbers.

“I’m sure your friend, then, has warned you Mages are not welcome to stay in our town,” Cassian said, jerking his chin at Janus’ staff. “You need to take your wand and leave.”

Logan stepped between them, locking his knees to stop their shaking. “Cass, he’s—”

“Don’t you call him that!” Juniper spat, pushing forward. Cassian raised one hand, freezing him in place.

“Now, now,” he said, peering down at Logan. “Rather an old nickname than anything else he might utter. There are worse words that could come from that wicked tongue.”

Janus’ eyes narrowed and Logan hung his head, eyes darting to his bed. And the hidden spellbook. 

He should have been more careful.

Cassian’s eyes followed his. “What’s behind the door, Aborrito? More witches?” 

“No! Nothing,” Logan said, gaze snapping back to the crowd on his doorstep. “My—my bed.” 

Cassian pushed on the door, hard. It creaked open all the way, catching the edge of Logan’s bare foot before slamming into the foot of his bed. “Oh,” Cassian grinned darkly. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Logan muttered, turning his foot to hide the blooming bruise. A buzzy fear filled his belly, heat rushing to his skin and canceling out the cold wind blowing from outside. He felt Janus’ eyes on him as he slid closer until he stood shoulder to shoulder with him. Together, they blocked the entry to his home.

Cassian glared at both of them for a long moment before looking down at the red and purple rapidly spreading over the edge of Logan’s foot. “Has this witch harmed you?”

“What?” Confusion morphed to fear as he looked up into Cassian’s eyes where a familiar rage burned behind the faux concern. Logan shook his head, arms crossed over his belly. “N—no, of course not. You—It was—”

“Let me help you, Logan,” Cassian said, voice drenched in a cloying solicitousness as he reached for him. He stepped over the threshold of Logan’s home. “It’s the least I can—”

“I said NO!”

Thunder clapped and the air between them buzzed, like lightning. Logan stumbled backwards. He landed safely in Janus’ arms but Cassian and his friends were pushed back on their asses.

“How dare you shove me!” Cassian sputtered from the dirt outside Logan’s doorway.

“I—I didn’t touch you, Cass, I—” he choked on his words as Cassian pushed up to his feet. Metal glinted in his hand, just like Logan had seen when he’d looked into his drained tea.

Cassian lunged. Faster than Logan could stop him, Janus swirled, swapping their positions. Staff raised, the air around them thickened, vibrating. There was a blast and Cassian was again thrown back, knife falling to the floor.

Red blood marred the polished edge of the blade. Janus lay in a heap on the floor, blood seeping into the packed dirt, a dark circle spreading beneath him.

“Janus?” Logan whispered. The vision fell away. Janus had kept his feet, and though the hand that clung to his side trembled, the grip on his staff was strong. He blinked and squinted as though staring at the rising sun.

“I’m fine,” he hissed, a half-truth, perhaps. Still, Janus spared him a stiff smile as he wrapped his cloak around himself. Logan wasn’t sure if the dark spot on Janus’ tunic was only a shadow… or something else. “I believe I have worn out my welcome.”

Sprawled on the ground outside and twitching, Cassian groaned. Built like an ox, he wouldn’t stay down for long, so Logan rushed to the door, slamming it shut. He snagged Janus' cloak from where it still lay folded on his bed and pressed it into his hands. “Go. You can get through the back door, the—” he whispered to Janus over his shoulder as he wrestled with his worn bed frame. Inch by inch, he dragged it closer to the door, hoping it would at least slow Cassian and the others once they roused.

“Logan.” Janus rested a hand on his shoulder. “I will not leave you here alone,” he said and pulled on his cloak. 

“I’m not alone, I…” Logan’s voice trailed away, and he eyed his small home. Even if Cassian gave up on pushing past his poor excuse at a blockade, he’d be sure to tell anyone who would listen what had happened. More would return, demanding an explanation.

Logan didn’t have one.

“You won’t be alone with me.” 

He looked up. Janus stood by the rickety back door, cloak fastened and his bag hanging from his side. He held his staff with one hand. His other reached for Logan, palm up. “Come with me, Logan.”

A low voice muttered outside and Logan whipped his head between Janus and the village beyond his door. Nodding, he grabbed his spellbook and two others from the stack by his bed. Using his blanket as a cloak, he shoved his feet into old boots he’d traded for… Well, that time had passed.

Janus opened the door and peeked outside before beckoning Logan through. Logan paused at the back doorway, scanning for anything else he might need, anything else he could bring.

They’d finished the meal Janus had prepared for them and he’d already packed his fire kettle and cup. Logan plucked up the stone cup his mother had made, nodding when Janus silently offered to carry it in his bag. He passed him the storybooks, as well, but tightened the grip on his spell book.

He cast one more glance around his home, looking for anything else he might need.

There was nothing.

But this morning’s mission was simpler. “Here,” Janus said, lifting his satchel. While he’d emptied it of most of his travel gear, the bag still held Logan’s spellbook. “You can carry this.”

Nodding, Logan looped the bag over his head and shoulder. “Thank you,” he said, patting the strap. “I… I’m sorry I don’t feel ready… to leave it behind. I trust you with it, I—”

“You are right to want to protect what’s precious to you,” Janus smiled, brushing an imagined bit of leaf or twig from Logan’s hair. “Don’t ignore that instinct. Certainly not for fear of appearing impolite.”

Nodding again, Logan chuckled. “Thank you.”

Janus’ response died in his throat when he glanced over Logan’s shoulder and caught sight of shadows moving beyond the protective veil of the creek. Pushing a smile onto his face, he directed Logan’s gaze away and gestured deeper into the forest. “Search anywhere within the boundary of the water. Don’t cross it.”

“You enchanted the creek,” he guessed, eyeing the still-icy strip. “I saw a spell for that but I couldn’t make it work on the water I had.”

“That’s to be expected.” One hand gently gripping his shoulder, Janus walked him few steps closer to the thicket. “Just like pyrocasting, it’s a matter of harnessing the power that’s already there. A cup or vessel isn’t the same as naturally flowing water.”

Logan’s brow crinkled but he nodded.

“Once you’ve found wood for your staff, I’ll show you something new. Now go,” Janus murmured, the deepening shadows just beyond the creek giving him fresh urgency. Buoyed by the promise of learning new magic, Logan grinned and marched with fresh purpose toward an opening in the woods.

Janus watched him for as long as he dared, then readied himself for his own hunt.

~

Twenty or so paces ahead, earthen patches sprouted where the trees grew so thickly together their branches blocked much of that night’s snow. One foot still in the snowy clearing behind him, Logan looked back over his shoulder and watched Janus for one more moment. Satisfied his smooth, purposeful movements meant the lucis had truly helped restore the magic he’d used defending him from Cassius and his mob, Logan nodded to himself. He took a deep breath and stepped into the thicket.

Guarded by dense woods, the air stilled, the wind’s whine and whistles hushed. In its place was the soft chitter and rustle of the forest’s creatures. A startled hare bounded past and a disinterested moose eyed him for a long moment before closing his giant maw on another patch of pine needles off a fallen branch.

Logan walked further, keeping a meandering finger of the creek to his right, following its swoops and dips. When he was done searching, he could simply follow it back to their camp. Before long, he came across a tall felled aspen, its roots still firmly gripping the soil. Fresh growth sprouted from what was left of the splintered trunk, the shoots nearly as large around as the thickest part of Logan’s wrist.

The rest of the tree, though, lay barren and dead, its wood dried from seasons spent separated from its roots. Knots and swirls broke up its bright white bark, and the larger knots looked so much like eyes that, for a moment, Logan imagined one blinked. A chuckle burst from his lips, breaking the growing silence in the woods and the tension in his throat.

“It’s like she’s watching you,” a high voice laughed from behind him.

Logan spun around, scanning the woods. But it wasn’t until he looked down that he locked eyes with the source of the laughter.

A little boy.

~

Janus continued his preparations, piling wood next to their dwindling fire and filling his small cook pot with snow. He set it to melt next to the fire-warmed rocks and listened as Logan’s footsteps began again then faded as he ventured deeper into the woods. Janus waited a full minute longer before rising and approaching the creek’s edge.

This close to the veil, Janus spotted retreating shadows where even the faint magical light of the air itself fled in the wake of the descendants of Southern Inquisitores. When he was certain their pursuers had abandoned this section of the forest, Janus slipped through the veil protecting the  camp they’d built in the middle of danger.

Woodsmoke, heavier than that of their campfire, assaulted his nose. Tinged with the wet, rancid stench of burnt tar, it scraped the back of his throat. He covered his face with his sleeve and stifled a cough before steeling himself with a quiet chant.

‘There are spells for that…’

‘Yes, for emergencies. For life-or-death situations. For battle.’

Shucking off the cold and the lingering ache under his ribs, Janus took one more slow breath, then turned to test the strength of the protective charm he’d placed on their camp. Already, even he could not spot where Logan had slipped into the forest. Logan would be safe until he returned.

~

“Who—Wha—” Logan stumbled backwards, eyes darting about the surrounding forest. “Whe—Where did you—” The boy was dressed in patched woolen breeches and sturdy—if old—leather boots. A double-knit sweater poked out from beneath his oilcloth cloak and a matching green hat was pulled down over a mess of auburn curls. He was dressed for the weather, but not for travel, and his clothes and hair, while not spotless, had both been recently washed. He lived close.

Logan’s was the only town for miles. The boy looked familiar, too. Logan must have seen him around the town. This child must live there. But what was he doing exploring the Dark Woods? He couldn’t possibly be alone. Which meant…

“Where are your parents?” he asked, keeping his voice low and pushing away his fear. His knees wobbled and he peered between the trees, readying himself for whoever had accompanied this child.

The boy loped closer and grabbed his arm, steadying him. “Pop's at home,” he grinned, wild eyes fixed on Logan’s face. His stare should have been unnerving and coming from anyone else, Logan suspected he would have fought to extricate himself from this child’s remarkably strong grasp. But from this boy, he merely felt… seen.

“Do you—” Logan bit back the question. Do you know who I am? sounded more like a threat than a warning against the trouble this boy would surely find himself in for innocently associating with him. He looked up at Logan, bright green eyes dancing. Gleeful.

Unable to shake the strange familiarity in his gaze, Logan asked instead, “Do I know you?”

The boy grinned again and pointed to the tree. “Whatcha gonna do with her?”

With the reminder of the tree and her luminous bark so like Janus’ staff, Logan’s own questions faded. He tilted his head and traced the edges of the larger knots. “I… “ he began. “I am uncertain.” But was he?

The wood buzzed under his fingertips, warmth spreading up his arm and into his chest.

You will know, Janus’ voice rang through his mind.

“I need a bough,” he said, fingers closing around a thinner branch. Despite the winter’s chill, the wood was warm against his palm, sun-baked rocks at dusk. “But…”

“But you don’t want to just pull it off her,” the boy finished.

“Well, yes, but—” Logan turned again to the child. The top of his head barely grazed Logan’s elbow. He couldn’t’ve been much more than five or six years old, but he didn’t behave anything like Logan imagined a six year old would.

“Can I show you something?” the boy suddenly asked, eyebrows waggling under the fold his hat.

Logan held his breath, ripped back to his front porch, blinking at the twin boys bouncing on their toes as they waited for his answer. Can we show you something, Logie?

Before he could formulate a better—or a wiser—answer, Logan nodded. The boy took off, small fingers still wrapped tightly around his arm. Logan’s longer legs helped him keep up with the boy’s sprint, but just barely. While Logan had explored the woods, the sun had stretched higher in the sky, warming the air and the earth. A faint scent of sod and pine burst up with each step and the boy seemed to take pleasure in zig-zagging between the smaller trees. After successfully dodging a low-hanging branch, Logan let out his own laugh and the boy glanced back, eyes bright.

“Here!” he said, suddenly stopping at the base of another young tree growing out of a mangled stump. The husk of whatever came before lay split on the ground, charred edges hinting at the lighting strike that must’ve felled it.

Though the trunk had been thick, easily twice as broad as Logan’s outstretched arms, it had been shorter than the surrounding trees, with long, twisted branches splayed out as though reaching for its brethren. The question of how lighting had even found it in the crowded forest pecked at Logan’s mind and knelt to get a better look.

Impossibly, the tree’s core was tinged in blue, like it had been stained with fancy ink. Without thinking, Logan reached out.

The tree sparked back, the tiny blue arc startling him. He fell back and sat panting on the forest floor, staring at the tree.

Still smiling, the boy sat next to him, thin fingers dancing in his lap. “Did it hurt?” he asked, watching Logan more than the tree.

“No,” he shook his head, hand already lifted and reaching again. “It felt—”

“Strong?” the boy guessed.

“It felt right.”

You will know.

Logan crawled closer and set both hands on the fallen tree. Blue light arced between this fingers, brighter than any fire, but it didn’t burn. “How?” He watched the light swirl around his hands, reminiscent of that morning’s lucis dancing in Janus’ palms.

“It’s a special tree.” The little boy now perched on a branch thicker than Logan’s thigh. Light did not spark from where he sat and Logan moved closer, tapping every few inches. He marveled at the bright blue light glowing under each touch.

“I do not…” He stared down at his hands and then at the boy. “I do not understand.”

“It’s a blue mahoe. They won’t grow here by themselves,” he explained without explaining anything. “And I think it’s yours.”

A twig snapped behind them and they both turned. In the path forged by their footsteps lay a long branch from the tree, as thick around as the boy’s arm and taller than Logan. “That wasn’t there—” Logan began, looking back at the child.

The boy was gone.

“Hello?” he called, belatedly realizing he did not even know the child’s name. “Whe—where did you go?”

She’d trusted him—and his safety—in the care of his friends. The friends he’d had back then, at least. Every day after lunch and chores, Logan would knock on their door or, laughing, they’d race to his and bicker over who got to knock first. In the spring, they’d chase and climb through the edge of the forest, daring each other to go just a little further. Hot summer afternoons would leave them hiding in the shade of the tallest pines, turning over rocks and poking at the leaf litter. Petting what they found when they were brave. Carefully letting the more frightening-looking creatures return to their hiding spots when they weren’t.

When the winter’s snows fell, the trio would mount grand battles, the twins tapping fingers until they decided who would get to team up with Logan to fight the other. Then, chilled, they would huddle under the covers on Logan’s trundle bed, sharing whispered stories until dinnertime. Every day was a new adventure.

Every day until the one after his mother had returned home early from that moon’s elders’ gathering. She’d hurried inside their home, closing the door firmly behind her, a guard against the evening’s frost. She’d let him sleep in her bed that night, holding him tight, twitching at every creak and chitter outside the tiny window. She’d still been awake when Logan had finally drifted off.

The next morning, the cold had kept most of the villagers indoors. After lunch, Logan had dashed up the path to his friends’ home, stamping his feet against the chill seeping through his thin boots. He knocked when he arrived, but there was no answer, so he knocked again, listening to the sound of iron scraping hearthstones, someone puttering at the fireplace inside.

Finally, the twins’ mother opened the door a crack and warm air spilled out. She shook her head, round face pinched into a frown, and told him to go home. That a fever had taken her boys in the night and he was lucky he hadn’t been taken, too. Then she closed the door without another word. She never spoke to him again.

That had been the first night he woke screaming from nightmares of his mother’s death. And far from the last.

Brighter in the winter’s thin daylight, the woods now felt familiar, the creak of bare branches swaying in the wind, the occasional crackle of melting icicles. Logan awoke warm, comfortable and well-rested. Slow to open his eyes, it took several long moments before he realized he’d shifted in his sleep and now lay sprawled over Janus’ chest, one arm tucked against his side, the other wrapped tightly around Janus’ waist. His fingers had twisted themselves around the soft warmth of Janus’ cloak. “Oh,” he breathed when he finally opened his eyes and looked up to see Janus had been watching him. He struggled to extricate himself, “My—my apologies, I—” his own body reluctant to move away.

“Nothing to apologize for,” Janus murmured, low and raspy. “You’ve kept me warm.” He made no attempt to move away, instead he brushed Logan’s hair from his eyes and smiled, a gentle laughter behind his words. Not a mocking laugh, simply… joyful. “How did you sleep?”

“Ah…” Giving up his effort to sit up, he rolled to one side and peered around them, blinking at the light. The sun was already well past the horizon. “I slept well. Longer than I usually do, actually,” he finally said, cheeks warming. “I… How…” He looked down, shoulders dropping in relief when he realized he hadn’t been laying on top of Janus’ wound. “What about you? How did you sleep?”

“Better than I have in a while,” he said, still watching Logan’s expression. “Are you feeling ready to greet the day or—oh!”

Something just past Logan’s shoulder seemed to catch Janus’ eye and his words fell away in a quiet gasp. “It seems a luminarium has returned,” he whispered. “Look.”

Logan turned and watched, eyes wide, as a bright white bead of light sped toward them from the north. Palm up, Janus reached for it and it slowed as it approached, hovering for a moment before dropping down into his hand. “I’m surprised you’re first,” he murmured, more to the sphere than to him.

Logan smiled as he sat up, his own instinct to speak to the light strong. He faced Janus and watched him cradle the lucis in his hands, turning it about as though inspecting it. Finally, Janus seemed to remember him. “Last night you said your village believed these woods to be inhabited by magic—by demons, yes?”

He nodded, looking up to meet Janus’ eyes with some difficulty. The air buzzed around the tiny lucis, stronger than he’d felt in any he’d seen before.

“Hmph,” Janus nodded as he sat up, legs crossed, and held the lucis between them. “There’s something in these woods. No demons,” he added with a chuckle. “But a power…” Janus cast his gaze through the trees surrounding them like he might catch sight of the source of whatever power he sensed. “It’s considerably closer to us than my school in the north. I would have expected whatever magic lays east of here to have returned faster than this,” he said, raising up the light. It seemed to bloom in his hand, tendrils reaching out until it looked more like a flower than a ball.

“How did you do that?” Logan blurted out.

Janus laughed again. “It’s not all me. The lucis recognizes me. It’s a response to one I sent.” The light spread further, exploring between his fingers and around his hands and up his arms. After a moment, Janus closed his eyes and the light brightened before soaking through his clothes and into his skin. His entire form glowed, fading slowly as he opened his eyes.

“That’s what I…” Logan blinked, mouth fallen open.

Smiling, Janus reached for his hand, grip warm and strong, stronger even than it had been when he’d first crossed his threshold. “That’s what you’ve been sending out into the world,” he finished. “Yours will return soon. There’s a…” He pointed where the eastern mountains were just barely visible through the forest. “There’s a glow in the air, it’s diffuse, but it’s there.”

Heart pounding, Logan peered through the trees. “You think there’s another mage?”

“Not merely a mage, no, but… something,” he murmured. Finally, he shook his head.

“Something dangerous?”

“No,” he shook his head again, almost laughing. “No, definitely not dangerous. Not to us.” He looked like he wanted to say more but instead he clapped his hands and fished his staff out from under the covers. “I will prepare breakfast for us,” he said, pushing up to his feet and beginning to fold the blankets.

“Let me help,” Logan said and reached for the opposite corners.