June gave way to July. Silas threw a huge Fourth of July bonfire for them where Arden and Fin followed Arch around chanting, “USA,” over and over, until he grew so annoyed he sent a golem after them. Arden was in a much better mood the moment Brittney left and was being extra annoying to the older boys to make up for the days that she’d been there.

Nellie had small moments of loneliness with Ava and Amias both leaving. They never lasted long, not with her greenhouse duties with Lilac, sneaking into the woods with Fin and Brody (Calix having gone to Greece for two weeks to visit family), and discussing–or avoiding–Morgan’s dragon research. She was sure to write Ava a letter and make it vague enough that she could share it with Emma, Olivia, and Sophia. She also scratched out her note to text Penny asking if it was possible for someone like her to make friends.

Nellie propped her face on her hand as Mrs. Adams hobbled in front of them, a book held in her hand that she was reading snippets from. It had something to do with the religious order that the Order of Ferblanc acted as an arm of, and how it was once a part of the Roman Catholic church. Nellie was having a hard time focusing on the dry history when Mrs. Adams constantly would pause to reiterate that the two are separate but also the same.

“The Holy See has the Swiss Guard,” Mrs. Adams went on, “while the Holy Cor has the Order of Ferblanc. Yes, Mr. Jones?”

“Brody, why,” Arden hissed. “I want to get out of here.”

“The Holy See isn’t really part of Vatican City, right,” Broday asked. “It’s its own thing?”

“Correct, Mr. Jones,” Mrs. Adams said. “And to answer your next question before you ask it, the Holy Cor is also a separate entity although it is located alongside Vatican City just as the Holy See. The difference here being that the Holy See is an internationally recognized government while the Holy Cor stays to the Realm.”

“And it’s feminine,” Lilac said airily, lifting her hand after the fact.

“Yes, Miss Maebry; the Holy Cor takes on the feminine to balance out the masculine of the Holy See. A tribute of sorts to all the women and their role centuries back when the religious first came to be. There is crossover, of course, most particularly with the religious orders. The two will share monks and nuns with no qualms. It boils down to a single, specific line during vows to even know which brother or sister belongs where. And, really, who has time to sort any of that out.” She snapped her book shut. “We’ll continue this tomorrow. There will also be an extra lesson pertaining to the Auctorita’s founding. Now, I’m sure you want to get to your letters before I call you back for geography.”

Nellie had a letter from Nathalie that was not very long. It spoke of her teaching, how all her petunias died, and how she still had not replaced the laptop she dropped. Ash was doing well–Nathalie lamenting his leaving bits of dead things around. She also had a reply from Ava. This was also not very long, but it was clear from the lack of flow that the other girls had added their thoughts during the writing. They even all signed it, saying they missed her–Nellie doubted Olivia really did–and hoped she’d return before summer finished so that they could all go shopping.

Hey,” Fin said, glancing over. He held up his sheets of paper. “Welcome to the two letters club. It’s exclusive.”

“Ava says she misses you guys,” Nellie said, giving Ava’s letter a shake.

“Ava nice,” Itzel said. “Miss her.”

Morgan stared at his half page with boredom. He folded it and leaned back in his chair. “My mother sends her love.”

They were interrupted by Mrs. Adams appearing with an old shoebox. Arch jumped up to take it from her as she hobbled into the den.

“Thank you, Mr. Willoughby. Pass those out, would you? Mr. Javernick has requested geography be held an hour later, and to have your phone allotment moved to now. Dinner tonight will be formal practice, so will last longer.” She hobbled from the den. “I’ll have the box on my desk. You may drop them off on your way into geography.”

Arch looked from his battered, old flipphone to the smartphones around him wistfully before excusing himself to make a call. Brody also excused himself to call family while Lilac–having just seen her parents–settled into a chair and started coloring on a coloring app. Itzel had no phone so started on writing her reply.

“Wanna sword fight,” Arden asked Nellie and Morgan. “We can do it in pairs. Me and Morgan against Fin and Nellie.”

“Should I not be with Cabrera?” Morgan eyed Fin. “Oldest and youngest against the two in the middle?”

“Yeah, normally, but Nellie’s lousy so putting her with Fin will either better our chances or even out the teams,” Arden said.

“Gee thanks,” Nellie said dryly.

Morgan looked pleased someone ranked him over Nellie, and agreed to Arden’s terms.

Nellie did not do as badly as she feared; perhaps in some attempt to show up Arden and Morgan or because Fin was just a good partner. She and Morgan eventually held back to let Arden and Fin go at it. They plopped down beneath a nearby tree to allow the shade to cool them.

“Silas told me dinner is formal practice due to guests,” Morgan said in low tones. “More Auctorita founding members.”

“Your mom?”

“No; much better,” Morgan said with a smirk. “It’s our way into China.”

“What are you talking about,” Nellie asked carefully.

“I did not hit you hard enough for this,” Morgan said. He rolled his hazel eyes. “Your father. China. Does that ring the bell?”

Her stomach plummeted. Morgan had been so quiet about Rhys and China that Nellie thought he accepted the obvious wall before them. It didn't occur to her that his stubbornness had him looking for another solution. 

She laughed shakily. “You're crazy! You think I can just call Nathalie and get my passport? Even if you did find a way into China, no way is she letting me go.”

“No passport and no asking permission required,” Morgan said smugly. He shot a look at Arden and Fin to ensure they were still consumed hitting each other. “Beast and Brigitte are smugglers.”

“You know a smuggler named Beast?”

“Well… no, but he is a founding member of the Auctorita, so my parents do,” Morgan said hastily.

“Still… a smuggler….”

“Sometimes it's a noble pursuit,” Morgan said. He scratched his nose and looked away. “Whatever the case, it's our way in.”

Nellie was quickly coming to the point when she'd have to flat-out refuse to go with Morgan. He put so much work into the dragon research and on finding a way to get to Rhys, that she couldn't help but feel guilt squirming in her guts.

“Ow!”

Fin was clamping a hand to his head, eyes narrowed at Arden who was waving his wooden sword over his head in triumph over his instant kill hit.

---

Nellie stood between Itzel and Lilac at the back of the line; Mrs. Adams had insisted on inspecting each of them before allowing them into the dining room, and further insisted the girls be last.

“Miss Maebry, are those grass stains,” Mrs. Adams asked.

“From the garden,” Lilac clarified.

Mrs. Adams glared disapproval but waved Lilac into the dining room. Nellie hastily combed her auburn waves over one shoulder as she stepped forward. 

“Is that dirt beneath your nails, Miss Herle?”

“Oh… um….”

“Is that a bruise on your forearm?”

Nellie clamped a hand over the elongated bruise from Morgan’s wooden sword, but quickly let go to hide both hands behind her back. She gave Mrs. Adams a sheepish smile.

“I suppose it too warm to have the whole of your arms covered,” Mrs. Adams said stiffly. “Go on. Go find your seat. But the next time, Miss Herle, that we have practice, you scrub those nails.”

Nellie’s head bobbed as she shuffled by Mrs. Adams into the dining room. She understood immediately why the man was dubbed Beast.

He was sitting next to Silas at the head of the table, but she first thought he was standing. Even sitting, he dwarfed Silas and everyone else. He was easily over six feet tall, maybe even nearer to seven. She was strongly reminded of the basketball star from the 90s that did multitudes of commercials now; down to the ball head and dark skin, except that this man was not built like a basketballer. His naked arms were sculpted and his chest was much too broad in his shirt, more like the build of a rugby player.

Silas caught her eye from the head of the table and waved her over. “Come meet our guests, Nellie.”

She noticed the woman on the other side of Silas as she walked nearer. She was the opposite of Beast minus also having dark skin; petite in build with teased, pixie-cut hair that was colored a purple ombre.

“I was going to have you sit right there next to Brigitte,” Silas said, gesturing to the empty seat.

“Did you call her Nellie,” Brigitte asked, a slight accent. She looked her over. “This isn’t Perenelle, is it?”

“Amias’s little lamb,” Beast said. His voice was so deep it resonated in Nellie’s chest; his tone had mockery in it. He took his dark eyes off Nellie and put his attention back to Silas. “You said he was here?”

“At the end of June,” Silas said. “He’s long gone. Not to worry your pretty head.” He winked at Nellie. “Nor yours.”

“I can’t place which one she looks more like,” Brigitte said, leaning on her fist to stare more closely at Nellie. “She’s got those freckles like Brue did, but not as many. Which, innit funny that Regere’s name means ‘freckled’ but he was the clear skinned sibling?” She turned away. “Speaking of which, Evora’s sister made the papers the other day. Fell flat on her face at a fashion show.”

“A random fashion blogger’s page isn’t the papers,” Beast said dully, inspecting his cup. “Food is coming?”

The food was brought in before Silas could answer. Nellie was sure to sit up straight with her hands in her lap as her plate was set before her; she could feel Mrs. Adams watching her movements and didn’t exhale until the server moved onto Arch sitting at her side.

She spent the appetizer course and most of the main course being hyper-aware of keeping her elbows off the table as Silas, Beast, and Brigitte caught up with nothing of interest reaching her ears–-minus Brigitte's random topic switching every few sentences. She was content to say nothing to either Beast or Brigitte with Morgan’s plan looming in her mind. She cursed him under her breath for destroying an opportunity to be nosy with new people.

Arden–sat to Beast’s other side–set down his fork after side-eyeing the massive man all evening. “Since no one else is asking… How tall are you?”

Beast let out a thunderous clap of laughter. “Silas, where’d you get this one?”

“Britt’s kid.”

“Britt? Really? I do vaguely remember you saying she married. Was that really long enough ago for her kid to be this old? Ah, time is cruel.” Beast beamed at Arden. “Seven foot one.”

“Can’t forget that inch neither,” Brigitte said. “Goes completely apeshit.”

“Ms. Brigitte,” Mrs. Adams snapped, “language!”

“Like these kids don’t say worse,” Brigitte mumbled, keeping her voice too low for Mrs. Adams to hear.

The main course ended and dessert–triple berry tarts with thick, whipped cream–were set before them. Nellie tried enjoying hers but could feel Beast taking looks at her across the table. She accidentally met his eyes when she glanced over to confirm, smiling shakily as he gave her a forced smile.

“I think it's more Commander High Horse than Brue,” Beast said conversationally to Brigitte. “She’s got those same eyes.”

“She’s twelve, Beast,” Silas warned.

“Already?” Beast shook his head. “Time.” He gave Nellie a softer, more apologetic smile. “Your dad and I… tolerated each other. I apologize for the coldness.”

“Your mom was good for him,” Brigitte said. “Shame she died like that.”

Nellie dropped her fork with a clatter that drew the attentions of Morgan, Itzel and those at the farther end of the table. Her heart was pounding in her ears.

“Brigitte,” Morgan called from down the table, “your condolences aren’t necessary. It was ages ago.”

“Was that condolences,” Brigitte whispered across the table to Beast, looking perplexed. “Who’s the brat, anyway?”

“Morgan Agarwal,” Beast said quietly.

“What? For serious? Blimey, it’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

“Oh,” Morgan called back down, “since I have your ear, there is something I want to discuss with the both of you after we’ve finished.”

Brigitte and Beast snickered to each other, murmuring over a child trying to use diplomatic language with them. Their dismissiveness was apparent when they tried to follow Silas to the small parlor after dinner only for Morgan–dragging Nellie–to cut them off.

“Did you think me joking,” Morgan asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Care to join us, Master Morgan,” Silas asked in mild amusement. He sighed heavily at Morgan’s icy stare. “Perhaps not.” He slapped Beast hard on the lower back (being where he could reach with their height difference). “I’ll get the whiskey ready. Neat?”

“On the rocks for me,” Brigitte said. “Like it extra cold these days.”

The four of them allowed a stretch of quiet as Silas headed into the small parlor. Nellie didn't want to be the one to break it even as it grew uncomfortable. She didn't want to talk to either of these people, let alone ask them for a favor. They kept studying her with mixtures of mild curiosity to mild dislike.

“The dining room should be cleared now,” Morgan said, gesturing over his shoulder. “I’m hoping this won’t be long enough for a sit down, but you did disrespect me already.”

Beast’s lip curled. “The tone on you, boy.” He loomed over Morgan. “You are not Regere. I don’t owe you any extra respect just for him being your father.”

“And I’m not intimidated just because you’re tall,” Morgan said, his fists clenched and shaking at his sides. “I’ve fought dragons too, and I have no magic.”

Beast and Brigitte exchanged a hard to read look. Nellie thought the nearest emotion was curiosity but wouldn’t bet on it. They gave a small nod, little shrug, and headed into the empty dining room. They both sat and stared expectantly.

Morgan grabbed Nellie’s shoulder as he stepped by her, gripping it like a walking stick before straightening his spin and going forward. She followed with her hands fiddling with the decorative bow tacked on her dress’s bodice.

“We require a discrete entry into China.”

The two adults let out a loud laugh that was just as quickly stifled by Morgan’s glare down his nose at them. They leaned back to allow Morgan to explain how they had been researching dragons in order to find Brue, and how Nellie wanted to speak with Rhys to cross reference things, as well as to ask if he knew a way of recognizing her in her dragon form.

“When Amias was here, he came with a message from my father saying that Rhys is in China,” Morgan finished. “I’m familiar with your work. I have full confidence–.”

“Can’t you talk normal at all,” Brigitte complained. “What’d Evora do to you, boy? I thought she’d be a better mom. Oh, speaking of–.”

“Don’t you talk about my mother like that,” Morgan said heatedly. His face was flushed.

“He’s over-educated, Brigitte, leave him alone,” Beast said, amused. “You must speak–what?--two languages? Three?”

“Three and a half,” Morgan fumed. “I’m conversational in German. Why is that a bad thing?”

“It’s not,” Beast said. “I’m not making fun. It’s impressive.” He twisted to look at Nellie. “You’ve said nothing during this, yet they’re your parents. Speak up, girl.”

“I don’t want to,” Nellie blurted out.

“Nellie doesn’t have to explain–.”

“Let her talk,” Beast said firmly. “Go on.”

She refused to meet Morgan’s eyes despite him dipping his head trying to catch hers. She kept her focus on her twisting hands, now jumbling together with the bow unmoveable. Her mind was just as jumbled as she tried to think of a way to avoid what she’d been avoiding telling her cousin for weeks, but there was too much static to think.

“I… don’t want to look for Rhys,” Nellie said quietly. Her head snapped up at Morgan’s sharp inhale. “No! That’s not…. I don’t want my life to be uprooted again. Moving is hard, Morgan, you have no idea. And you keep talking about–.”

“About the family being reunited! About us growing up together as we always should have!” He shook with fury. “Why let me waste hours of my time on this if you didn’t want any of it?” He scoffed. “You can’t tell me you like your little backwater town with its poor education and lackluster food?”

“I didn’t know about any of this, or any of you seven months ago!” Nellie was stiff-legged with her hands now fists. Her eyes flashed angrily. “You can’t expect to just drop my whole life for some fantasy life our parents dreamed up of us growing up together!”

“Why,” Morgan asked nastily. “Because of your aunt? She did lie to you, or is that too inconvenient a detail?”

“Ugh! Boy, you don’t shut up much, do you,” Brigitte whined. “Will you let the girl talk without jumping down her throat?” She looked at Beast. “Regere used to do that, you remember? Especially with Brue. Yap-yap-yap if he thought he could make himself look good.”

“Him and the Commander were always at odds in those first months,” Beast said, eyeing Nellie and Morgan. “Perenelle, you did have ample time to tell all this to Morgan. Why not?”

She stared at the floor as her anger ebbed away. Her mouth was dry and feeling all of them looking at her did not help.

“Because… because… I might not want to, but I think I have to.”

Beast’s lip curled. “Interesting.”

-------------------------

It just ends because I couldn't think of much else other than small back and forth that didn't really go anywhere except confirming 100% that Beast and Brigitte agreed to Morgan's plan. So, not something really needed. I think I was originally going to do more with the dinner/kids and that was why I had Calix go home for a visit, to lessen the amount of characters in the room, and I was going to have Arch leave too but I liked the idea of Arden and Fin harrassing him on the 4th too much. And I thought it was time to introduce the other part of the religious element with the Holy Cor since that touches on Penny's story (and Brecken's with his first serious love). The Order of Ferblanc was originally the Swiss Guard way, way, way, way, way back when this was just the vaguest idea of 'girl and cryptids' back in 2014ish. Something about teir clownish uniforms but knowing they're all highly trained amused me.

Beast is the same hieght as Shaq. I looked it up before having him declare his height to make sure it was something believable. But I guess that's all because I have to feed my overly tired, crying kid.

Nellie reluctantly put on the same tank top she’d been wearing the last couple of days before continuing her search for Amias. It was too late into the morning to stay in pajamas or else risk Mrs. Adams's disapproval. Then again, wearing the same shirt for three days was not much better.

She pulled open her door and straightened when finding Ava on the other side with her hand raised to knock. Nellie caught Ava’s eyes drop to the tank top before meeting hers again, a small, strained smile on her lips.

“Can we take a quick walk to the garden,” Ava asked.

Anger quickly replaced all Nellie’s hurt feelings from the previous night. She shut her door behind herself with a firm snap, stepping by Ava into the hall.

“I was about to go find Amias,” Nellie said coolly.

“Why don’t I walk with you until you find him?” She scurried to walk in step. “My mom is packing. I thought we should talk a bit while we had time.”

“Why? Are you leaving,” Nellie asked. She tossed her waves off her shoulder. “I heard you talking to your mom last night. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. If you want to leave, then go.”

Ava hurried to block her from continuing down the hall. She narrowed her eyes behind her glasses, crossing her arms.

“This is exactly what I was trying to tell her,” Ava said icily. “It’s not like you want to be friends, so why should I bother trying?”

“Me? You told her we weren’t friends!”

“Because you don’t want to be, Perenelle!” Ava threw up her hands. “I tried–we tried–including you in weekend plans all year, but you constantly ghosted us. We tried to get together during Spring Break, but again, you ghosted us.”

“Morgan—.”

“Yeah, I know, Morgan,” Ava growled. “That first week here, without Morgan, we hung out all the time and I thought ‘okay we’re getting somewhere’ and then along comes Morgan, and suddenly you’re off on these field trips—”

“That you said you didn’t want to do!”

“---I don’t, but you still go off, never mention much about them when you come back, and double down on using all your free time for Morgan.” Ava sighed heavily, her eyes shining. “My mom came to see me, and you just brushed off meeting her and run off with Morgan. Always babysitting your cousin. You even pushed off Lilac and her parents onto us instead of coming with us to dinner!”

“I thought you liked Lilac,” Nellie said lamely, feeling hot.

“That isn’t the point, Perenelle!” She stomped her foot in annoyance. “Mr. Javernick very clearly invited me here to be a familiar face for you, but you just keep running off on me! Secret meetings with this cousin. Secret meetings with that hot guy that turns out is actually a legit prince. You haven’t even sort of explained how any of that happened, do you realize that?”

There was a lot she avoided telling Ava. She was warned prior to coming to the compound not to let anyone know about Brue’s fate, and the result was that anything else she mentioned was disjointed. It also meant that she had been going off with Morgan a lot recently to talk over all his dragon notes.

There was a squirming, guilty feeling in Nellie’s gut as she watched Ava’s face fill with pink patches. The shine had started to collect in the corners of her eyes, and she was refusing to look directly at Nellie now. She felt a lump build in her own throat, and laughed shakily.

“I have been a rotten friend,” Nellie said. “Or, pre-friend, I guess. I just thought you’d get it with being a witch. The whole secrecy thing.”

“No, I get that part,” Ava said, her tone still cool. “Emma, Olivia, and Sophia are my best friends, but no way am I blabbing to them about Mammaw, or Mom, or myself. That’s been drilled in. And, no way I’d tell them about you and this whole thing with your uncle being leader of some secret, magical society thing.”

“Yeah… I know you wouldn’t… but there’s a lot more,” Nellie said.

“So I’ve gathered,” Ava said dryly. She shrugged. “You don’t have to tell me. That wasn’t the condition on being friends. You were just supposed to want to hang out with me, and not constantly blow me off.”

“Maybe I should tell you,” Nellie said, half to herself.

“Don’t,” Ava said firmly. “It’ll just make everything worse. It’ll make us feel obligated to be friends when, honestly, maybe we just aren’t.” She sheepishly looked at the polished floor. “I did hope… You seemed nice… We don’t get a lot of people moving to Lynchburg. I thought having some new blood would be a nice change for our circle.”

She had told Ava about her real relationship with Nathalie already, and that was as close as she felt she could get to the rest of it without saying. She didn’t understand the harm of Ava knowing her mother was turned into a dragon and that her father had ditched her to go find her, but she held her tongue still.

“I think… I do want to try to be friends,” Nellie said awkwardly. She pulled at a split end. “I’m not sure how, I guess. The whole thing with finding out my mom wasn’t my mom completely threw me out of whack more than I thought. Maybe I’m not even as over it as I thought I was….”

“It would be a lot,” Ava murmured. “And the stuff you can’t tell me… is about all of that, right?” Nellie nodded glumly. “Okay, so how about, if you’re going to blow me off or something because of that, you just say ‘Mom issues’ or something, so then I know it’s because you can’t say in front of me and not because you’re sick of hanging out?”

“‘Parent stuff’ might work better,” Nellie said, grinning. “There’s a bunch of stuff going on with my dad right now.”

“The one you thought was an estranged uncle your whole life?” Ava shuttered. “Yikes, Nellie, your life is complicated. No wonder you don’t want to talk about it.”

They giggled a bit and started walking down the hall. Ava insisted Nellie borrow one of her tank tops.They set off together after to find Amias with Ava not having met him yet and her mother still busy. She told Nellie she’d wanted to leave so badly that she begged her mom to book her a ticket home for next week.

“I should’ve confronted you sooner,” Ava moaned.

“It will be good to see the others,” Nellie said. “It isn’t fair to give up your whole summer for this.” She gazed at the grounds outside the windowed hallway. “I kind of want to go back too. I miss Ash.”

“You had that one uncle show up and threaten to take you home,” Ava said. “You could call him. I bet he’d do it.”

Uncle Winston certainly would be on the next plane if she said she wanted to go back to Nathalie that minute. He only hadn’t forced her to leave because he begrudgingly agreed that she needed to know how to handle herself when the Realm encroached into her life. It was a part of her, just like it was a part of Rhys, and Uncle Winston heavily hinted that how Rhys had been handled as a youth is what drove him off.

“You!”

Nellie and Ava jumped, spinning to see Arden storming towards them. His arms were stiff at his sides; his lanky frame hunched like his feet couldn’t be angry and keep the quick pace he wanted.

He stopped before then, narrowing his eyes. “You brought that man here!”

“Do you mean Amias,” Nellie asked carefully.

“She’s talking about staying longer,” Arden huffed, crossing his arms. “This was supposed to be a few nights, then gone, oh, but now she’s got a new buddy and all that is going out the window!”

“Are you… talking about your mom?”

“They feed off each other,” Arden went on. “They start on something as lame as buying groceries, and before you know it,” he leapt back, throwing his arms wide, “the world is burning! And they’re single handedly responsible for shutting down brothels! Too many broken hearts.” He gagged, and then fixed his gaze on Nellie again. “Make him leave. Or tell him to stop talking to her.”

“I can’t do that,” Nellie protested. “Amias is an adult. Go talk to Silas about them if it bothers you.”

Arden’s eyes widened as his jaw went slack. “Mrs. Adams… Mrs. Adams will save me.” He turned on his heel and bolted.

“You don’t think that brothel thing is true, do you,” Ava asked, wrinkling her nose.

“I never want to know which one said it. Come on, let’s head the way Arden did. Maybe he was with Brittney and Amias before coming to find us.”

There was no mystery where Amias and Brittney were after they passed through the formal dining room. Their roars of laughter rattled off the crystal chandelier from the small parlor on the other side. 

From what Nellie remembered, the small parlor was for Silas to host drinks with members of the Auctorita. She had stuck her head in before out of curiosity, but none of them ever had a reason to hang out in there with it being a bar counter, locked liquor cabinets, and a handful of plush, leather chairs.

Brittney was behind the bar while Amias sat at it, slapping it with his hand. His mouth was full of something, leaving him unable to laugh properly or interject on the story.

“--I says to her, no seriously now, I says, ‘I’ll run through the main square completely nude, completely, if I don’t get Herle’s hand up my—' Oh.” Brittney cleared her throat, jerking her head to get Amias to turn. “Exactly the child I don’t want standing there. Are you looking for Arden? He’s…” She looked around.

“Morgan sent me,” Nellie lied. She focused on Amias. “Somehing about his mom needing you back for something.”

“Apologies, Britt, I'm needed elsewhere,” Amias said. He finished his glass with a small shutter. “Ah, the bubbles. Everytime.”

“That’s why you wouldn’t catch me dead joining up,” Brittney said. “Keena too.” She sighed. “I better go find that boy of mine.”

Nellie forcefully smiled as Brittney sauntered by. She stood rooted to the spot fully aware that Ava was shooting her an uncomfortable look from the corner of her eye. She dropped the smile as Amias approached, crossing her arms.

“I thought you didn’t drink,” she said, eyeing the bar.

“Soda water and bitters, my lamb,” Amias assured. “With a hint of mint rather than lime, oddly enough. Britt has a knack for mixing non-alcoholic cocktails. But, you didn’t come here to babysit me, nor should you.” He raised a thin eyebrow. “Does Evora even want me?”

“Arden asked me to separate you and his mom,” Nellie said.

“You were looking for him before that,” Ava said. She smiled nervously as Amias looked to her. “Hi. I’m Ava. I go to school with Nellie.”

“And she’s a witch,” Nellie said.

“Or will be,” Ava said. She twisted her hands together. “I have to grow into it.”

“Is that how that works? Fascinating,” Amias said.

“Thanks… I’m going to see if my mom is done packing,” Ava said. “Let you talk. Catch you later?”

“Yeah,” Nellie said, grinning. “I’ll find you after. Swear it.”

They exchanged hopeful smiles as Ava left them to the small parlor.

“I take it your pre-teen girl speak has improved,” Amias said, smiling. He motioned at the armchairs. “Now,” he said as he settled in, “what are we to talk about?”

“Are Morgan’s parents in love?”

Amias sputtered, unable to form distinct sounds or words. He searched around for something to busy himself with but found nothing. He settled for smoothing out imaginary wrinkles on his knees.

“S-such an unusual question,” he said with a small laugh. “What on this earth would possess you to—?”

“Morgan said so.”

“Ah… Well, that’s troubling.” He took in a large breath, slowly releasing it and setting a steadier gaze on Nellie. “My lamb, there is nothing to be done for it.”

“It’s true,” Nellie whispered. She covered her mouth in horror. “But… but….”

“As I said, you cannot fix this,” Amias said sternly. “It is quite unfortunate that Master Morgan picked up on it, but it is what it is. The Regere and Evora might not have the love you’d hope to find in a married couple, particularly those with children, but they are fond of each other and have great respect for each other. There is no ill will.”

“But what about Morgan,” Nellie said.

“What of him?” Amias raised his eyebrows at her. “He is loved by his parents. Just as you are. How his parents feel for each other has no alteration on that.”

“He thinks it does.”

“He’s young,” Amias said sagely. “He’ll learn.” He smiled piteously at Nellie’s tense expression. “My dear, this is not the end of the world. Morgan’s parents have a strong marriage built through respect. There are many such marriages out there. And, there are those that have no respect. Regardless of love or not, if there is no respect for each other that is truly a terrible match. Quite the awful example to set as well.” He pat Nellie’s balled up hand. “Evora regrets not writing back to you, my lamb. Perhaps you knowing how their marriage works will make more sense of why she ignored your note asking after the Commander. She will never go behind the Regere’s back.”

It took a few minutes for Nellie to remember what Amias was talking about. She had slipped her note to Evora asking about Rhys prior to her field trip to Michigan. Being attacked by the Piasa Bird, having relatives show up for visits, almost falling out with Ava, being unable to speak to Ira or Penny, all that had completely driven it from her mind.

“That’s a lot for a week and a half….”

“What was that, my lamb?”

“Nothing… Actually, I do have something else I want to ask about.”

“I hesitate to encourage you…”

“That story I walked in on,” Nellie said, frowning, “that Herle was my father, wasn’t it?”

Amias cleared his throat. His cheeks had a slight pink tint. “Yes… well… Britt knew your father in his youth. In her youth.” He scratched at his nose just to have something to do with his hands. “Mrs. Faust is quite a flirt, I’m sure you’ve gathered by now. She found it comical to tease the Commander.” He laughed, quickly turning it into a throat clearing as Nelle narrowed her eyes at him. “Sorry, my dear. Completely unrelated thought just popped into my head.”

“I’m not going to find out Arden is my half-brother or something, right?”

“Good gracious, no,” Amias said, horrified. He laughed again, this time not trying to hide it. “Oh, no, no, no, Nellie. Your father was a right stick in the mud. I was terribly shocked when Brue and he started courting. Terribly! Ah, but, he did smile around her, so that only made sense.”

An odd sense of pride swelled in her chest. Her father was devoted to her mother long before her dragoning. It somehow helped cement the idea that they both loved her, despite Rhys vanishing from her life.

The pride was replaced with pity as she remembered she had been asking Amias about Morgan’s parents moments earlier, getting confirmation that Morgan was not being overly dramatic. It really would feel awful to know your parents didn’t have true feelings for each other, no matter how Amias tried to sugarcoat it.

“I may regret this… but anything else, my lamb? I don’t mind a chat, of course, but I should meet with Silas.” He rolled his eyes. “Auctorita business. Dreadfully boring matters.”

Nellie twisted her hands in her lap. She wanted to ask if she should reach out to Rhys. Originally, she wanted to ask him if there was a way for her to recognize Brue, or if there was a way to change her back, but Morgan’s giddiness over her parents returning and moving her to Lisbon caused her pause. She already moved once, and that had been bad enough. Moving again, to a different country–and with strangers–was too much to grasp.

“Something the matter, Nellie?”

“No,” Nellie said. “Just letting everything sink in.” She rocked up to her feet. “I’m going to go find Ava. When do you plan on leaving? Just in case Arden finds me.”

“Perhaps tomorrow morning. Or the afternoon. It’ll depend on what Silas and I cover.” He puffed himself up. “As founding members of the Auctorita, we will need to be on duty during this important transition.”

She wandered about, half looking for Ava and half too lost in thought to know which way she was going. Amias wouldn’t understand, not with him being best friends with Brue. Nellie wanted to find her. She wanted to meet Rhys. But, she wanted that to be the end of it. She didn’t think she could handle any more huge changes in her life at the moment. She was still navigating the move from Florida to Tennessee.

--------------------------

Kind of a clean up chapter. Partial courtesy to re-reading from when Nellie got to the compound to now. And since this is a short chapter tying up loose ends, I'm going to ramble about the stuff I wanted to put in but couldn't, and some backgrounds for these older people.

First being, Brecken and Evora's "love" story. With this series I want multiple protags, but I haven't thought of if I'm doing any outside of Ira, Penny, and Nellie. But, the Regere (Brecken) could be an insteresting enough one. But, no real plan yet. So, spoilers-not really, Brecken was young ~19 when the Auctorita formed. Young, cocky, goodlooking, and powerful, he was a flirt with nearly all the founding female members. To his, and others' surprise, his flirting with a significantly older woman turned more serious, and he ended up falling in love. She also ended up falling in love with him. But, as the months turned to years, the position of the Auctorita started turning from ragtags to something serious, and the founding members had their roles expanded out into the rest of the world/Realm. For this woman, hers was a more religous role (Order of Ferblanc connection) and there had to be a choice: Brecken or God. And for Brecken, with everyone now looking at him as this leader--similar to King Clayborne--there were swirlings about his family life, the future, ect. So, the woman choose God and chasity, being too old to safely have children anyway, and Brecken and Evora settled into a life together. She'd been one of his closest advisors, and the Auctorita's chief lawyer, and they both did like each other quite a lot. Evora had at one time been completely smitten with him and the thought of her and him had crossed Brecken's mind before. There is no saying if they're mutual fondness and respect grew into anything more over the decade+ of marriage. The founding members just strongly remember how he was with the other woman, and how they all knew it would end in tragedy.

So, of course, Amias couldn't say all that to his 12yo goddaughter he doesn't know very well, lol. He also couldn't tell her that he had an example of a marriage with love but no respect in Brittney. Brittney was indeed a horrible flirt (and a bit slutty, honestly) but she ended up falling hard for a Mr. Faust (I haven't given him a first name). Of course, if you're environment is dive bars, night clubs, and thieves, you're not going to find anyone honorable. So, Mr. Faust is a rotten thief, or was he is mostly reformed, and an alcholic (why Brittney is good at mixing non-alcholoic drinks/Arden's whispered comments at the wine lunch that shut up her teasing were related to this). The two had a whirlwind courting, a head over heels marriage, and then along came Arden. Well, Brittney being the woman, had to give up all vices. And she was able to. Mr. Faust didn't, and didn't try. Brittney keeps trying to help him and "save him" for their love, marriage, and Arden, but him not trying, or not able to, or whatever the case has greatly erroded all her respect for him. And he also doesn't respect her because she's "not fun" anymore. Of course, growing up with all this, Arden was starting to act out the older he got until he was suspended from school. Brittney begged Silas to take him in despite his age in the hopes that starting his training early would give him structure. She's even willing to have him join the Auctorita when he's of age.

The sun was starting to set and Amias still had not turned up. Nellie sat out on the patio to enjoy the pink and gold sky while she waited, her feet propped up on a poofy ottoman. The lightning bugs were starting to twinkle on the woodline in the distance.

The sliding door opened some feet behind her.

“--be glad to get home,” Ava said. “It’s fun enough here, but I miss my friends.”

“What about that one girl,” her mom asked. “Isn’t she in your school?”

“Yeah… but it’s not the same,” Ava muttered. “I didn’t even bother inviting her to come with us tonight.”

Nellie slumped lower in her chair and slowly brought her legs to her chest, curling into a time ball to be as small as possible. It worked, and the Wagners passed without noticing her.

She sat with the sky darkening to red and the lightning bugs coming out in full force, her head full of a dull buzzing. It would make perfect sense for Ava to miss Emma, Olivia, and Sophia. They’d all known each other since elementary school. There was still something about what Ava said, about her tone, that was causing Nellie’s chest to tighten and the corners of her eyes to prickle.

“Good evening, my lamb. Were you waiting out for me?”

Amias still looked like a younger, tanner Victor Price. He held the handle of a sleek roller back in one hand, the other holding the strap of an overstuffed leather satchel across his body.

Nellie launched herself off the chair, and threw her arms around his middle, nearly knocking him back down the steps. She gave a sob as he patted her auburn waves.

“I wasn’t aware we crossed into this familiarity, my dear, but I’m glad of it,” Amias teased. He put his arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. “There, there. Come, let’s go inside. The nastier nature wakes up when the sun goes down.”

They settled in the small den where the kids typically gathered to read their letters. It was dark and quiet, out of the way of the more common gathering areas like the large parlor, living room, and dining room.

Amias left briefly to make a cup of tea; Nellie declining his offer to make her a cup too with the summer heat seeping in through the slightly opened window. He propped his foot on his knee, gave his cup a smooth blow, and sipped.

“Ah, better,” he sighed. “Now then, my dear, you looked quite distressed. Anything your godfather can help with?”

“Not unless you speak teenaged girl better than I do,” Nellie muttered.

“Alas, not one of my many talents.” He smiled sympathetically. “Brue was a misfit magnet. I’m sure she went to her mother with such hardships as you have.”

“So… does that make you a misfit,” Nellie asked, a small smirk forming on her lips.

“Bite your tongue,” Amias said, hiding his own smirk behind his tea cup.

They spent the next fifteen minutes talking about little things. Amias and Nathalie apparently kept in touch with the occasion text or email, and she told him how she was unable to visit. He offered to substitute for her. He hadn’t seen much of the Regere since he returned from dropping off Morgan, typically accompanying Morgan’s mother Evora who was now very busy meeting various heads of state.

Nellie mentioned that Ira had come back to have similar meetings with chapters of the Order of Ferblanc and the Keepers. She did not mention the Piasa Bird, but she caught Amias eyeing the scar from her recently removed stitches once or twice.

“It sounds an awful lot like there really will be a new country,” Nellie said. “That’s so weird.”

“How so?”

“I guess I just think of the countries as set in stone,” she said. “But they aren’t. Even now, you get countries that fall and rise and everything in between. It’s just… weird.”

“It isn’t as common as it was, but, yes, they do change,” Amias said. He frowned into his empty cup and set it aside. “It’ll be good for the Auctorita to have true stability. We’ve had deals fail before because we were seen as illegitimate having no real boundaries. And, perhaps, I’ll have a title that means something instead of just ‘that dashing man following Evora at times’. My resume looks like it has a fifteen year gap in it.”

“Oi, Nellie, are you—Oh?” Arch appeared in the doorway. He straightened himself with a curious eye on Amias. “Sorry. Didn’t know Nellie had any visitors.” He pointed over his shoulder. “Mrs. Adams called us for supper five minutes ago. She’ll be cross if you’re any later.”

Nellie jumped to her feet. “Arch, this is my godfather Amias. Arch is a mage.”

“I recognized one of my own,” Aimas said with a nod.

“Amias…? Hang on, you aren’t Amias Baig, are you,” Arch asked. His mouth slowly dropped open on Amias’s–not at all bashful–nod. “You–you’re a founding member of the Auctorita!”

“You are?”

“I am,” Amias said smugly.

“Oh, sir, allow me to shake your hand,” Arch said, hurrying over and enthusiastically yanking Amias’s hand up and down. “As a mage, sir, it’s an honor. You’ve taught the Regere himself a thing or two!”

“You did?”

“I did, yes,” Amias said, enjoying the attention. He freed himself from Arch. “Care to show us to the dining room? I haven’t graced these halls in an age. I don’t remember where it is.”

Arch giddily led the way from the den. Nellie would not have been terribly shocked if he started skipping. She slowed her pace a bit to force Amias to do the same, putting a few extra feet between them and their escort.

“I thought the Regere was an all powerful mage,” Nellie asked in a low voice. “The magic I sense off him is…” She didn’t want to use ‘weird’ anymore, and crazy seemed just as bad.

“Quite, but he’s young,” Amias said. He gave a snort, shaking his head. “Probably stupid we appointed him the leader when the Auctorita formed, as young as he was, but it has all turned out for the best. Brue was a big part of that. She grounded him. Played the big sister role beautifully.” He pat her shoulder. “Now, my lamb, allow me to enjoy all this extra attention a moment.” He sped up to walk in step with Arch. “Have you heard about the disastrous time the Regere and I had outside Kabul?”

Amias was exuberantly greeted by Silas, and introduced to Brittney. The three of them seemed to grow louder and louder, and crowded the head of the table swapping stories. The kids were almost ignored; Mrs. Adams still kept a sharp eye on them from the end of the table to stop them from horsing around too much or using poor etiquette.

Morgan kicked her under the table. “You could have told me you were waiting for Amias,” he sulked. “We would’ve had a few moments together to speak of things.”

“Things urgent enough for you to assault me,” Nellie grumbled. She speared a roasted potato.

“He’s a link to my father, and do you remember what I was asking my father about on your behalf,” Morgan asked. His eyes darted to Fin, Itzel, Brody, and Arden, double checking that they were consumed with whatever it was they were talking about. “He’s supposed to tell us where your father is.”

“I don’t think that’s secret enough for you to be kicking me,” Nellie said.

Morgan huffed, and tore a large chuck of meat off his chicken thigh with his teeth.

“Master Morgan,” Mrs. Adams called down, “manners!”

Amias was having too much fun with Silas and Brittney, so Nellie, Morgan, and the other children were dismissed from the table by Mrs. Adams without much acknowledgement from the adults. Morgan huffed and fumed the entire way up to his room. Nellie was glad to be rid of him.

Nellie detangled her auburn waves in front of her vanity mirror, not really seeing herself. She hadn’t considered that Amias would be coming with news of Rhys. She hadn’t given her father much thought since Morgan said he’d ask for her, partly assuming–or hoping–he was ignored.

There was also the sick feeling she got when she remembered what she overheard Ava saying that evening. Her mind leapt back to when Ira picked her up so many months ago, asked her if the girls were friends, and Nellie’s instinct said they were not. It was possible that instinct was right all along.

Ira said people like them could make friends, but said he hadn’t. He tried to brush it off as the social differences between boys and girls–and it turned out he was a prince so that surely had some impact too–but Nellie couldn’t stop thinking he could’ve been lying to give her hope. False hope, like about finding Brue.

Penny still believed she would find Keena Fox despite having no memories of her.

Nellie scribbled on the notepad next to her bed: Text Penny. Ask if people like us make friends. Then, she crawled under the covers on her sleigh style bed, and passed out.

---

Amias was in the den the next morning wearing a velveteen dressing gown over his satin green pajama set. He had a newspaper resting against his knee and a small cup of coffee in his hand halfway to his lips.

“Ah, good morning,” he greeted. “Sleep all right? I was up half the night myself due to nature sounds.” He shuddered. “Crickets and coyotes and that blasted big foot.”

“Did you only come here because I had no visitors, or did the Regere send you with a message,” Nellie asked plainly.

He glanced into his cup, took a drink, and set it aside with his brows furrowed. He folded up his newspaper and set it across his lap like a paper blanket.

“Just jumping right into it with both feet this morning, are we? Two things can be true, Perenelle. Yes, I wanted to see you and Nathalie and I thought I should visit since she could not.” He heaved a breath. “And, yes, the Regere gave me a message to take along.”

“Which came first,” Nellie asked. “The message or you planning to visit?”

“Does that matter?” He groaned as she folded her arms. “Of course it does. You are so very like your father at times. It’s astounding. My visit came first, my lamb, since you insist on knowing. I was packing my socks, specifically, when Evora came to ask me to dinner. She asked why, I said I was going to visit you and Master Morgan, she said ‘oh perfect timing’ and had me go speak to the Regere to see if he even wanted me to pass on the message.”

“Which he did.”

“Yes; which he did,” Amias said. He smiled weakly. “Does that satisfy you?”

It made her feel a lot better knowing she had been Amias’s focus, not being ordered to visit to pass on some message. She gave a small nod and took the chair next to his.

“You’re allowed to come and go as you want then,” Nellie asked.

“I beg your pardon,” Amias said. “Were you under the assumption I needed permission from the Regere for every little thing in my life?” Nellie shrugged. “He’s the leader of the Auctorita, but he doesn’t control our lives. It is as if… What’s an analogy an American pre-teen would understand? I’m drawing a blank.”

“But he is your boss, isn’t he,” Nellie asked. Amias looked horrified at the notion but didn’t correct her. “Can’t he fire you if you don’t obey him? Or worse, with him being an all powerful mage?”

“All powerful is a stretch….”

“Not much of one.”

Nellie jumped at the sudden, cool voice and quickly found Morgan hovering in the doorway with a disgruntled expression on his face. His dark hair was still unkempt from sleep, and he still wore his pajamas and slippers. He held a napkin with both hands that was piled with buttered toast.

“I was waiting for you in the dining hall,” Morgan said. “Thought we’d eat and then go speak to Amias. Together.”

“I wasn’t hungry,” Nellie said, quickly adding, “then,” as her stomach gave a rumble.

Morgan’s scowl deepened.

“Now, now, Master Morgan, nothing has been said,” Amias said, a hint of pleading in his tone. “Come. Sit. You can have my seat if you wish. I plan on dropping off my cup once I’ve delivered the message anyhow.”

A rush of anger flared in Nellie’s chest as Morgan went and settled himself into Amias’s chair. He still looked disgruntled at the very idea that they would speak without him but there was now a smugness in his expression.

“What if I don’t want Morgan to hear the message,” Nellie asked, narrowing her eyes at her cousin.

Amias paled. His eyes darted from Nellie to Morgan–now glaring back at her–and back. He silently pleaded not to be put in that situation, but Nellie stubbornly folded her arms and crossed her legs.

“Master Morgan,” Amias said, his voice higher, “would you mind terribly to—?”

Morgan leapt up. He threw down the toast on the small table between the chair and stormed from the den.

Amias sank back into the empty chair while Nellie salvaged the toast. She was starting to get very hungry.

“Why must you antagonize him,” Amias muttered.

“Why must you cater to him,” Nellie asked. “He’s acting like a spoiled brat.”

“He is.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for it today,” Nellie said. She took a large bite of her toast, disappointed that it was now cold so more like wet, buttered cardboard. “I’ll tell him the message later. So… what is it?”

“China,” Amias said plainly. “The Regere last had eyes on the Commander in China.”

“China,” Nellie said slowly. “That’s… broad. He doesn’t have a city or something to go off?”

“If he did, he did not mention them,” Amias said. “All he said was to tell you that Rhys was in China. I must say, I was rather shocked by that. Brue wouldn’t have been caught dead in China as a human.” He shivered. “Dreadful place. I’ve seen what they do to street food there.”

She doubted Rhys would have been loitering around the city streets if he really was in China. The countryside, particularly the mountains, did look mystical in pictures she’d seen. She imagined it would be a good place for a dragon to live. 

How Rhys, a blond European, was supposed to get to those mountains was an entirely different question. From what little Nellie knew about the country, it did not exactly like outsiders wandering around without escort and she highly doubted he would have let a government official know why he was really there.

“Does the Auctorita work in China,” Nellie asked.

“My lamb, the Auctorita is truly global,” Amias said proudly. “We have footholds everywhere. Why, I believe we even send a researcher or two to Antarctica. For what end, I have no idea.”

“Does Rhys have any sway with members,” Nellie asked. “If he asked them to smuggle him into the country and out of the cities, would they?”

“Very likely, though I imagine that would put them at risk, and I’m unsure he would do that to lowly footsoldiers having once been one himself.”

She wondered if Amias meant they would be in trouble with the Regere or the Chinese government, but did not ask which. Hearing how far her uncle’s reach went was enough to cause the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle. It was no wonder why Nathalie and Uncle Winston were so wary of him. That type of power and control was too much for anyone.

“Thanks, Amias,” Nellie said, rocking up to her feet. “I’m going to go tell Morgan.”

“Rather fast, isn’t it?”

She shrugged and left Amias to his newspaper. She didn’t have to go far to find Morgan. He was waiting around the next turn in the hall with his hazel eyes narrowed at her.

“You think I'm a spoilt brat,” he accused.

“You are, and you relish in it,” Nellie pressed. She crossed her arms. “Did you eavesdrop on the whole conversation?”

“Only long enough to hear you and that pompous fool laughing over what you really think of me.”

Nellie eyed him, frowning. There was an extra shine to his eyes. Morgan really did have hurt feelings over what he heard.

“We didn’t laugh a single time that conversation, for your information,” Nellie said. She sighed. “Rhys is supposedly in China. So, I guess cross-referencing anything with him is out of the question.” She smiled weakly. “End of the road, cous. Thanks for all the help. Let’s just enjoy the rest of summer break. Want to have a go at target practice? Callix said he’d teach—.”

“You quit too easy,” Morgan interrupted. He started to pace the hall. “China…. The Orient has a wealth of dragon lore, of course.”

“Are you… supposed to call it that?”

“I have a handful in my notes already,” Morgan went on, ignoring her. “We can narrow his location. Get a message to him.”

Her stomach lurched at the plausibility of Morgan’s plan. Amias already said the Auctorita had people all over the world. If Morgan asked his parents to pass a message to Rhys, there was no reason why they wouldn’t try.

Nellie stopped at her room first to grab the box of Rhys’s letters before joining Morgan in his room. They had correctly assumed that no one would go knocking on Morgan’s door, so now always looked over their dragon related items in his room rather than in Nellie’s or the library.

She scanned through the letters, reading only random phrases, while Morgan searched their file case and consulted the globe. She had thought about Rhys returning more often than naught since she was told about him. She was interested to meet–or get reacquainted–with the man that wrote so diligently to his big sister, but Morgan’s point about how much her life would change hung over her.

“These are the most prominent ones I have,” Morgan said, laying out the notes all with an artistic rendering. “Futs-long; says it dwells underground so an exact location is harder to find.” He slid the notes with a deep, orange dragon with a snake-like body to the side. “Shenlong; a sky dweller, so also not a clear location. But, my bet is the mountains where not many humans are.” He slid the notes with a deep, blue dragon also with a snake-like body to the side.

“These seem too specific,” Nellie said.

“Dragons are heavily featured in Chinese mythology,” Morgan said. “They have dragon gods for almost everything. Futs-long supposedly makes earthquakes. Shenlong makes rain.”

“Yeah… way too specific,” Nellie said. She scanned through the notes on Shenlong. “This sounds more like Zeus than a dragon story. …Zeus isn’t real, right?”

Morgan rolled his eyes and started flipping through his notes. “With migration, we should include the zmey gorynich out of Russia. Or the yamata no orochi of Japan. Ryujin seems more in the thought of these dragon gods.” He passed over the notes. “Kirin are generic. We can include them. Oh, and phaya naga. I’d say that’s an excellent candidate with the India connection and the,” he gestured to himself and Nellie, “the India connection.”

“Oh. Right.” Nellie looked at her tanned arm. “I keep forgetting that.”

“I don’t give it any thought either,” Morgan said, shrugging. “Our grandfather dislikes me and my father, and our white, American grandmother raised him as American as she could despite living in London.” He gave his pulled notes a satisfied nod. “This is a starting point.”

The flaming river dragon glared out from the top of the pile. Rhys had been looking for Brue for a decade. He must’ve thought of phaya nagas before now. Perhaps he looked in the Indian rivers, and could only now get into China. Or, Morgan’s theory that human genetics played a role was complete bunk.

“I still have no way of knowing Brue when we find her,” Nellie said, pushing the notes aside. She muttered, “If we find her.”

“You've been so negative lately,” Morgan said. “Summer camp not as rosy as you thought?”

She shot him a glower, but stayed quiet. Morgan did not need to know anything about her worries regarding Ava or making friends generally. He either wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t care, or encourage her to ignore everyone except him.

“What are we supposed to do now,” Nellie asked, steering the conversation back. “I don’t know if I want to send a message to Rhys. I don’t know what to say.”

“Ask him to come back,” Morgan said as if it was obvious.

“Ask him to stop looking?”

“No. Just to come back.”

She sighed and flopped back on Morgan’s bed. “He’s been looking for a decade. He’s not just going to drop everything and come running back because I ask.”

Morgan grabbed one of his pillows and curled around it. He stared but his eyes were distant as if looking at something far away and not at Nellie.

“I’ve been told, countless times now, that your father loved you and only left because searching for your mother was dangerous,” Morgan murmured, half into the pillow. His grip tightened. “You have nothing else to contradict that. You should hold onto it.”

“Nothing to… He did leave and never reach out,” Nellie said. “That’s a big contradiction.”

His eyes fixed on her. “My parents aren’t in love. I was born to fill a role, not because of love. Or to love.” He glared. “Hold onto these stories that your father loved you for as long as you can, Nellie, because the alternative does not feel good.” He flopped over and turned his back to her. “Think I’ll catch a nap before afternoon sparring.”

It was awkward sitting there while Morgan pretended to sleep. Nellie headed out with the box of her father’s letters in her hands. She stood with her back pressed on Morgan’s door, feeling the weight of Rhys’s words to Nathalie in her hand a moment before setting off to find her godfather.

----------------------

This took so long to type that I forgot things like Arch being the escort into the dining room and what Amias was wearing in the morning. But, you get a bunch of dragins mentioned in this. Most are from my pretty dragon book, so I'll put up pictures in the chat. I wanted to describe them more since they're cool looking, but they are just looking at random internet drawings and not facing the real thing. Some dragons, like Futs-long, Shenlong, Jormungandr, Quetzelcoatl, ect. are very, very specific where it's a character and not just a dragon, so those would not be candidates (as Nellie rightly assumes). That does actually narrow out just about every Chinese dragon. They question of if those specific dragons are/were real or pure myth is a completely separate matter.