Talia didn’t look up as she lovingly patted the soil around a bed of petunias. “Not that I heard. She was talking about another magazine wanting to see my flowers, but she said that wouldn’t be until next month. She didn’t say anything when we were in the village last weekend.”
Linus stood with a groan. “Better see what she wants.”
“If it’s my adoring public, tell them I’m not prepared for company at the moment and that it’s rude to come with so little notice.”
He snorted. “I’ll make sure they understand.”
Talia looked at him, eyes narrowing. “Don’t think this gets you out of weed duty.”
He patted the top of her cap. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Keep at it. I won’t be long.”
Talia muttered under her breath in Gnomish.
He shook his head, smiling to himself. She was getting more creative with her threats. He blamed that entirely on Lucy.
He wiped his hands on his shirt and walked out of the garden toward the front of the house. The Linus from a year ago wouldn’t recognize the man that existed today. His skin had burned and peeled and burned and peeled until he had what could be described as a minor tan. He wore shorts (by choice!) and his knees were dirty from kneeling in the garden for the last hour. He was still rotund, and had begrudgingly accepted it when Arthur had made his appreciation known. His hair was even thinner than it’d once been, but he had little time for such trivial things. He was comfortable in his own skin for the first time in his life. Perhaps his blood pressure was still a tad high, but life was so much more than worrying about a spare tire or hair on a pillow.
He was humming Buddy Holly when the truck pulled up and stopped with a lurch, the engine coughing and stuttering as it turned off.
“Sounds like it’s about to give up,” Linus observed as Helen climbed out of the truck. She wore a pair of grass-stained overalls.
“Eh. It gets the job done.” She grinned at him. “You’re dirty. Talia holding you to your end of the bargain, is she?”
Linus sighed. “I’ve got her down to three days a week now. I don’t dare try to go any lower. She has yet to fill in the hole that’s supposed to be my grave. It’s a rather effective threat from one so small.”
“It looks good on you,” she said, patting his shoulder. “Arthur inside? I need to speak to both of you. And J-Bone wanted me to remind Lucy the records he ordered came in.”
“Everything all right?”
Her smile faded. “I think so. But it’s best I tell both of you at the same time.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. “Is it something from the village? I thought things were getting better. Last weekend when we were there, we only got a few glares.”
She shook her head. “Not—it’s nothing about the village. And who was giving you a hard time?”
He shrugged. “The usual suspects. But it’s getting easier to ignore them. Children are remarkably resilient when they need to be.”
She frowned. “They shouldn’t have to be. I promised I would do my best to make sure nothing like that happened again.”
“You’ve done wonders,” he assured her. “But these things take time.”
And not everyone wanted things to change, though he didn’t think he needed to tell her that. Since she’d come to the island to see things for herself, Helen had made it her mission to make the village a welcoming place for all. First came down the SEE SOMETHING, SAY SOMETHING posters around town. That had been met with minimal resistance. But there had been greater grumblings when she’d announced her intention to position the village of Marsyas as a vacation spot for all, humans and magical beings alike. It wasn’t until she’d reminded the business owners that more people meant more money for the village that the grumblings began to lessen. Linus was grimly amused by how prejudice didn’t seem to be a match for profit, especially seeing as how the payments the village had been receiving for their silence regarding the island had been cut off. He took it as a victory when the village council had voted in favor, however hollow it could be.
It was a start.
And then, after Christmas, came the surprising announcement from the Department in Charge of Magical Youth about how Extremely Upper Management had all resigned after an external investigation revealed the schools they’d run had been deemed discriminatory. The investigation had been sparked by an anonymous report that outlined unsavory practices involving magical youth, citing specific examples of children under the guidance of DICOMY who had been treated as second-class citizens. A new governing board had been appointed, and while they spoke of grand and sweeping changes, the wheels of bureaucracy did indeed grind slowly, especially when met with vocal resistance. Overhauling decades of preconceptions would take time. But if they could start with DICOMY, it could lead to other departments that dealt with magical beings beginning to change with the times.
They had to start somewhere.
A reporter had come to the island in February, apparently having tracked down Linus after hearing of his dramatic exit from DICOMY. She’d asked if he’d known anything about the anonymous report that had sent shock waves through the government. “A whistleblower,” she said. “Someone with insider knowledge about the workings of the Department in Charge of Magical Youth.”
He laughed nervously. “Do I look like the type to cause a ruckus?”
She wasn’t fooled. “I’ve learned never to judge what a person is capable of based upon appearances alone. And I would protect your anonymity.”
“Would you?”
“You have my word. I guard my sources fiercely.”
He thought of all the other children out there in the world in places just like Marsyas. The ones he’d met, and the thousands he’d never had the pleasure of meeting, though he’d read about many of them in the files he’d stolen away. Perhaps this would help the fire to continue to burn as brightly as it could. A quiet man, yes, with a quiet heart, but he thought of the phoenix, wings spread in a darkened cellar and then on a dock for all the world to see. If this reporter could find him, chances are others could as well. But Linus thought he was done hiding in the shadows. “Then listen well, for the story I have to tell you will be unlike anything else you’ve heard.”
She smiled.
When she left five hours later, her eyes were sparkling, and she looked hungry. She said she had enough for an entire series and would let them know when it was set to be published. She believed she would be ready as soon as the summer. “Do you know what this will do?” she asked them, standing in front of the house. “Do you have any idea what this will mean?”
“More than you know,” Arthur said.
She watched him for a long moment before nodding. She turned toward her car, but stopped with her hand on the door handle. She glanced back at them. “One last question.”
“Bloody reporters,” Linus muttered.
She ignored him, only having eyes for Arthur. “I heard from a source that a man unlike any other has agreed to testify about his own experiences of being under the purview of the Department in Charge of Magical Youth. Would you know anything about that?”
“A man unlike any other,” Arthur said. “How curious.”