When they arrived on Susan’s farm, the first thing Hiram heard was the voice of his niece calling for her mother and grandmother, insisting no one else would ever come here, that it had to be him.

As Hiram exited the carriage, Ellen bounded up to him, nearly flying off the porch as she ran, but stopped short about six inches away. She stared up at him then looked at her feet, a hesitant smile on her face. “Hello, Uncle.”

“Hello, Ellie,” he said. He could think of nothing else to say. He had not spent so much time away from her since they had come to live together and seeing her again made him realize how awfully he had missed her.

She glanced up at him again, her hands behind her back.

He knelt, opened his arms and she threw herself into his embrace, pressing her face against his chest and squeezing him tight. He held her close and asked, “How have you been?”

“Bored!” she cried. More softly, she confessed, “I missed you.”

He heard Cassie scoff from where she stood just outside of the farmhouse. The house, painted a buttery yellow, had rockers on the porch and enough room for a large family within.

Ellen pulled back and asked, “Can we go home now? We can, can’t we?”

“Yes, but—”

“But what?” she asked, her eyebrows knitting together and her small mouth twisting into a pout. The expression only lasted for a moment because when she noticed Phaedrus, her eyes went wide and her mouth hung open.

“Someone new will be coming to live with us,” Hiram said. “With me, more specifically.”

Ellen snapped her mouth shut and looked back to her uncle, but her eyes darted back to Phaedrus. “Who?” Her eyes again strayed to the creature.

“This is my very good friend. Their name is Phaedrus,” Hiram said.

The demon gave a small wave then folded their arms back against their body, uncomfortable and trying to pass it off as arrogance.

Ellen fixed her eyes on their face. “You’re going to live with us.”

Phaedrus answered, “Yes.”

“You’re friends with my uncle?”

“Quite close,” they said.

Hiram stood and put a hand on their arm, hoping to soothe some of the snippiness out of their tone.

“Are you a mage?” she asked.

“No.”

“What are you?”

“A storyteller.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Do you know a lot of stories?”

“Thousands.”

She looked at her uncle and narrowed her eyes. “Very good friends?” she asked.

“Yes,” Hiram said.

She nodded, grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the farmhouse. “Auntie said to bring you in.”

Hiram followed along, glanced back and tugged on Phaedrus’ sleeve when he saw they hadn’t started to move. The creature started to walk, still not looking pleased. As they walked inside together, Cassie’s eyes passed over Phaedrus.

“Have a seat,” Susan said, not looking up from the garment she sewed.

Hiram sat, and Phaedrus took a seat beside him, their limbs still held close to their body.

Cassie, as she walked past, gave Hiram a pat on the shoulder.

Hannah reached out a hand to Ellen, and the child went to sit on her lap, nestling against her mother. She whispered something into Hannah’s ear, and Hiram could only imagine what she said.

“Where’s Flora?” Hiram asked. He glanced around and failed to see the woman with whom Susan lived.

“Out cutting wood,” Susan answered. “Someone’s got to do it.”

“I owe you—” he began.

“I don’t need to be owed when my friends come to visit,” Susan said. She finally looked up.

“It looks like you’ve been well. The house is lovely,” he said.

“Never thought I’d own something,” she said. “You ought to stay. Eat something. Spend the night before you head back to that city.”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“She already started cooking,” Cassie said, “Killed a chicken this morning.”

Hiram couldn’t help but smile.

“Didn’t expect so many,” Susan said, “What’s the story with those other two?”

“I don’t know their plans for the future,” he confessed. “I believe them to be runaways.”

She nodded, then looked to Ellen and said, “Go invite them in.”

Ellen scurried off, and once she was gone, Susan asked, “Where is your hand?”

Hiram almost laughed; he had not thought to mention it. “I cut it off.”

All the women raised their eyebrows.

“Out of necessity, of course,” he clarified. “But the situation has been neutralized. Nothing to worry about.”

“I hope so,” Hannah said.

“I wouldn’t be bringing you home if I didn’t think it was safe.”

She nodded. She glanced over toward Phaedrus, who had hardly moved the entire time. She spoke in a carefully neutral tone. “And your friend…? Ellie mentioned you were bringing someone home.”

Hiram nodded. “If you find it objectionable, the two of us can find residence elsewhere. I have no wish to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s just that having a stranger around might not be so good for Ellie.”

“Hannah, I would never do anything to risk her safety. Phaedrus is someone whom I trust very much.”

“No, not that…it’s, well, you know how she gets so attached to people.”

Hiram’s brow knitted. He had never thought of his niece as someone who became affectionate easily. Perhaps he had mistaken guardedness for detachment.

“She was broken up being away from you for a few weeks. Waited for your letters like it was Christmas, and she was so careful when she wrote back. Wanted you to be proud of her printing. I wonder if…” Hannah looked at Phaedrus again and then back to Hiram. “Just something to think about. Bringing in someone new. Someone who might not stay.”

Not wanting to speak for the creature, Hiram looked to Phaedrus, who sat up a little straighter and said, “I have intentions to stay for quite some time.”

No one said anything else for a few moments, seconds that stretched awkwardly until Hiram cleared his throat and said, “I’m opening a school. For her. For Ellen.”

“Hm?”

“And for other children like her. Children whose prospects might not be what they should be.”

“Children like her aren’t going to have anything to pay you with.”

“I plan to offset the costs by teaching magic as well.”

“Teaching magic?” Ellen asked from behind him. She had come in without him noticing with Hermes and Mary in her wake.

“Yes.”

She looked at her mother, eyes wide. “Mama.”

“We’ll talk about it,” Hannah said.

“Please, Mama,” she said.

“You gotta do your regular schooling first,” Cassie said.

Ellen turned her gaze to her uncle. She said nothing, but he recognized the silent plea.

“You’ll have to show me everything you’ve learned when we get home,” he said. “I hope you’ve been practicing.”

She nodded. “I read every day.”

“And your sums.”

“I practiced those,” she answered with her eyes anywhere but Hiram’s face.

“Every day?”

“Not every day.”

“Hmm.”

“I will, though,” she promised.

“I hope so. You can’t hope to be a mage without first being a well-rounded scholar,” Hiram told her.

Flora returned inside after a while, bringing in an armful of wood. She gave Hiram a nod, which was the warmest greeting he’d ever gotten from her.

Over dinner, the mood around the table remained mildly uncomfortable. Phaedrus never relaxed. All Hiram could think was that they would have sore muscles if they remained so tense. After they’d eaten, Hiram couldn’t stifle his yawns, and neither could Ellen.

“Head up to bed,” Cassie said to the girl. “And you too,” she told Hiram in exactly the same tone.

Ellen stood up and grabbed Hiram by the sleeve. “I’ll show you,” she said, “Nanny had me help her make the bed.”

Hiram stood when she tugged on him. He looked to Phaedrus but found that Ellen had already grabbed them by the sleeve of their dress. The garment Phaedrus wore was not in any way modeled after current fashions, and the long, loose fit almost reminded him of a monk’s habit, but the soft purple color, wide sash, and beaded trim transformed it into something more ladylike.

Phaedrus ogled the child for a moment, then stood and followed her.

As they walked up the stairs, Ellen and Phaedrus first, followed by Hiram, Ellen looked up at the demon and asked, “Do you think you’ll live with us for a very long time?”

“I hope so.”

“That’s good. We don’t have a lot of friends,” she said.

“No?”

She shook her head. “No one who comes to visit ever wants to stay.”

“I can’t imagine why. You seem charming enough.”

She looked up. “You said you know lots of stories.”

Phaedrus nodded.

“Will you tell me one tonight?”

The demon hesitated. “I…”

“Please.”

“I think a story would be just what we need,” Hiram said.

“Do your stories have voices?” Ellen asked the creature.

“Pardon?” Phaedrus asked.

“Voices. Uncle always does voices.”

“I can do voices,” Phaedrus assured her. They glanced at Hiram.

Hiram smiled sheepishly. “It isn’t right if you don’t do the voices.”

“Here I’ve been telling you stories with no voices. Shame on me,” Phaedrus said. They touched Hiram’s arm affectionately but drew back when they realized how keenly Ellen watched.

In Ellen’s room, once the girl had burrowed under her covers, Phaedrus sat at the foot of her bed, and Hiram made himself comfortable sitting on one edge. The demon related a tale about a weaver girl and cowherd, and by the end, Ellen had nestled further into the bed and fallen asleep.

“She seems sweet,” Phaedrus remarked as they made their way to the bedroom Ellen had pointed out earlier.

“She is.”

“And bright. Doesn’t miss anything.”

“Apparently not.”

They unwound their sash, then pulled off the dress to reveal thin silk underclothes. “You’re staring,” they reminded gently.

“Should I stop?” he asked, pulling his eyes away briefly so that he could shed his own clothing.

“I suppose it makes no difference.”

“You’re a wonder to me still, Phaedrus. I can’t stop myself. Not until I know every freckle.”

“Your family stared too, and I don’t think it had to do with my freckles.”

“Likely because they thought I would die alone,” Hiram suggested. “They must be shocked.”

At first, Phaedrus’ face soured, but Hiram came over and took them by the hand, pulling them closer to the bed.

“But here I am, coming home with a lovely creature like you,” he said. “They could never have expected this.”

“I suppose not.”

“Not to mention the hand.”

“True.”

“I’d also wager that they might have been staring at your jewelry,” Hiram said, lacing his fingers through theirs and bringing their hand to his lips. “The last time they saw someone covered in diamonds and silk up close was before my mother died.”

“I’m not covered in diamonds,” they said, “The earrings are amethyst.”

“Still. You are a fine, lovely thing, and we are…well, a little shabby, these days.”

“Perhaps they doubt my intentions with your virtue. It was intact when you left, after all,” the creature suggested. “Perhaps they think I’ve bought your affections with coin and the promise of better lodging.”

Hiram laughed.

Phaedrus slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him onto the bed. They tumbled Hiram onto the quilt and put one leg on either side of his hips. They leaned in to kiss him, and Hiram, struck by a thought, put up his hand to stop them.

“What do you mean better lodging?” he asked, trying not to be too distracted by the warmth of their skin beneath the silk undershirt.

“Hmm?”

“You said better lodging,” Hiram said, “What do you mean?”

“Oh, that,” they said and pressed their lips to his. “I’ve bought a house. Or, that is, I’ve arranged to buy a house. I imagine it might take some time for all the paperwork to be sorted. It was going to be a surprise.”

“Phaedrus!”

“What?” the creature asked, their lips on his ear.

“You can’t!”

“Why not? It’s my money.” They slid their hands up his arms and pinned him to the bed, firm but without any coercion. “If I want to buy us a house, I can.”

“Yes, but…”

“But nothing, love,” they said.

They kissed his throat, but when Hiram let out a sigh and arched himself to meet their body, they pulled back, moving off him to sit beside him.

“What?”

“I’ve thought better of it,” they said. “We should discuss the house.”

“Oh.”

“It’s a bad habit of mine,” they admitted, “To use desire as a distraction.”

Hiram pushed himself up and turned to face them. “I…”

“I won’t make you come to live there, of course, and if you prefer that dismal shack of yours, I’ll weather it, but it’s a lovely house, Hiram. And I want to have lovely things with you,” they said.

“I…it’s only that I wasn’t expecting it.”

“That’s why it would have been a surprise.”

Hiram ran a hand through his hair.

“Besides, you can’t expect anyone to send their child to learn magic from a mage who lives in a hovel,” they pointed out.

“It’s not a bad house!” he protested though he wasn’t sure why. He had no fondness for the house.

“Ellen will love it,” Phaedrus suggested, perhaps trying to sell the idea. “Her own room.”

“No, of course, you’re right about this.”

“Have I upset you?”

He shook his head.

“Given you a terrible shock?”

“No.”

“Do you feel faint?” they asked, a small smile playing on their lips.

Hiram could not help but smile. “No.”

They reached out to smooth his hair from his face. “I love you, darling.”

“I don’t have the words,” Hiram began.

“None of that drama or poetry,” the creature chided. “There are three perfectly good words that have sufficed for every other pair of lovers. It is the way all my favorite stories end. I think we’ve earned that.”

Hiram yawned. He couldn’t help it. He shooed them off the bed and turned back the covers. He climbed in, and Phaedrus snuggled in beside him. Their fingers brushed across the scar on his chest, and then they pulled the covers up, making a small, safe world for the two of them to share until morning.

From the darkness, after Hiram had started to drift off, the creature said, “I was expecting you to say, ‘I love you’ but don’t feel obligated.”

“Love you,” Hiram said, most of his words lost in another yawn.