Dan blushed. “Er, yes. Choice. Staying. Not going back to Baltimore. I heard the other witch say I was healed because I was here.”
“Magic self-repairs thehost. Witches are, in essence, hosts to magic.” Sondre looked at him, briefly seeming more approachable, but then he continued. “As part of this process, you will attend the College of Remedial Magic, after which you will be brought to court at several points, whereupon the Congress of Magic will determineifyou can remain or be siphoned safely.Ifyou are selected to remain, you will be a part of a magical house—from there you will earn an annual stipend—”
“What’s siphoning?”
“Removing your magic.” Sondre tossed back half the cup of tea in a gesture that looked like he ought to be in a bar with a shot glass.
“Can wenotbe siphoned? I mean, man, I want to stay here. If you siphon me, the magic is gone. It can’t heal me then. So well, I’ll do whatever… anything at all… clean the privy or—”
“We have plumbing here.”
Sondre motioned him toward a massive door big enough to drive a rig into without scuffing the top. The doorframe was carved stone, but the doors themselves were wood with silver inlay.
They entered the castle, doors swinging open at a gesture from Sondre. The foyer was everything Dan had imagined. Massive arches swept up and met in a central dome. Beyond the foyer was a staircase that divided into two twin staircases that arced apart, as if they were inverted parentheses.
“I’m never going back,” Dan announced. “Whatever it takes, this is where I belong. Seriously, I don’t want to die. The radiation, the chemo,the surgeries. It’s fucking exhausting. I was expecting to die this month, you know?”
Sondre started walking again, following a passageway that curved behind the staircase, so Dan followed him. The hallway had a row of open doors.
“As you aren’t a noted flight risk like some recent arrivals, you can take a ground-floor room if you choose.”
As much as Dan wanted to simply wander off, explore, he felt an embarrassing rush of emotions—too much to leave room for words.
Sondre continued. “The class will assemble shortly. Until such time, you are free to read, exercise, enjoy the sun—although I must warn you that the peacocks are moody. They lay an egg most days here, but they’re loud and grumpy.”
Dan spun around and hugged him. He couldn’t help it. He was a hugger. “You’re the best, man. You saved my life bringing me here.”
Sondre stared at him, arms limp at his side until Dan let go and stepped back. Then, a small smile lifted just the corner of his mouth before he said, “No one around here hugs me… Better than a sharp stick to the eye, I suppose, but Iamheadmaster of the College of Remedial Magic, Daniel, and considered a warmonger.”
“Still saved my life. Over there, my days are limited. So… are there textbooks?” Dan asked, stepping back a little more. “I could study, you know. How do I get money? Oh, and will I get a robe? All the boarding schools in books—”
“I will summon one of the resident hobs once you choose your chambers. The hobs will fetch your essentials so you can maximize your time here.”
“Hob?”
“Hobs are a manifestation of magic, we think.” Sondre shrugged. “They won’t answer where they come from or why, but when the first witches arrived here, they found the hobs. Magical beings the size of squirrels, but as sentient and civilized as men.”
“Are they like our overlords or…?”
“No, Daniel. They are like neighbors with an ability to make things, change things, and generally infuriate the calmest souls.” Sondre rubbed his forehead. “If they like you, they are willing to invade your house for a fee. Like grandparents who both meddle and cook, but who also will coat your undergarments in poison ivy if you anger them.”
“Got it. Be nice to hobs.” Dan repressed the host of new questions he now had. This was everything he had ever dreamed, even if it had started with a dismal attempt at camping.
“Room?” Sondre prompted.
Dan picked the third door because by then, he’d noticed that each room was alike. Not embarrassingly posh, but more luxurious than he was used to knowing. Antiques still in use, a massive fireplace, and, in the adjoining bathrooms, giant bathtubs with what looked like very modern plumbing. Beside the tub was a basket of dried flowers. To top it all off, there was a door-sized window with a terrace outside. The rooms were beautiful and inviting except for one detail.
“The tubs are sort of brown,” Daniel said. “Big and all, but brown.”
“The water in Crenshaw has gone foul,” Sondre said. “Bathing is safe, but I limit my time in the water since it smells rather noxious. The herbs help mask it.”
The room smelled like eggs and lavender; it was an odd mix.
Dan scowled at the tub. “Kinda weird, man.”
Sondre nodded. “It’s a recent situation, one we are working to fix.”
“With magic.”
