Firebrand Risk
Kalon 10 (end)
July 28, 2025

Kalon scratched at her broken nail in an attempt to even it out. She sat against the hood of the Cadillac with her curls a mess. She rubbed her forearm where she would undoubtedly have a large bruise by morning from hitting the dashboard. She twisted to stare through the windshield, sighing to see Innit still gripping the wheel with both hands and stiff arms, blue eyes wild. She pushed off the hood and lightly tapped the window.

The window lowered with an awful squeak from lack of use. “Can I get back in the car now?” She winced at the squeak of the window going back up, and circled around as the doors unlocked to climb into the front seat. “Thank you. Are you feeling better? I do need to get back.”

The car started moving at a much slower pace. Kalon eyed him but he showed no inclination that he was going to start speaking, so she went back to trying to even out her broken nail. She would need to cut all of them now.

The scenery was starting to become familiar as the heavy silence grew unbearable. She cleared her throat loudly, just enough to get him to straighten and blink.

“Is your plan to never speak to me again after nearly running us off the road?”

“No. It’s….” He swallowed. “Do you… do you still have him?”

His heart was going so fast she could see the beat pulsing in his neck. Her own heart ached and she gently pat his knee.

“Of course. I would’ve died than let him be taken.”

Innit’s shoulders visibly relaxed as a large breath left him. “What’d you call him?”

“Mal. Shortened from Malvern. Named for my grandfather. The librarian.”

“Your grandparents are being…?” He shrugged.

“Supportive, yes. Grams was ready to hunt you down and flay you, mind you, but she’s passed that. They enjoy him, but he does tire them. My friend helps watch him too. Her daughter is about four months younger.”

“He’s… six months? Seven?”

Kalon knit her fingers together on her lap. “Nine.”

“Nine?” Innit’s eyes rolled up as he mouthed numbers. “Ain’t y’all only pregnant for nine months?”

The car slowed as Kalon stayed silent. It creaked to a halt with the large roundabout at the mouth of Dijon in view.

“That last night… I said I’d hoped for a proposal. It was not only because of my deep affections for you.”

His jaw was clenched, his eyes burning into the steering wheel. “You knew, and you didn’t say anything….”

“Would it have mattered? Khoa says with how you were–.”

“Khoa!” Innit slammed his hand against the wheel rim. “He knows about all this? You told Khoa I had a kid and not me?”

“Khoa showed up and wouldn’t believe me when I said he wasn’t yours.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t seek him out, Innit. Just like I didn’t with you. Had you shown up, or better yet, not left–.”

“I had to!”

“Then, would that have changed had you known?”

“Reckon I’ll never know now.” He glared at her from under his hand as he rubbed his forehead. “I’m no better than my old man now; abandoning my son for whatever reason.”

“You’re being absurd. Of course you’re better than your father.”

“Am I? It ain’t like you gave me a chance to prove it. Now I got to assume I’d just up and leave.” He threw his head back against the seat. “You thought it too, Kalon, don’t try sparin’ me. Why else would you keep quiet?”

She slipped off her bootlets to pull her feet onto the seat. She rested her chin on her knees, leaning up against the door.

“I was pregnant once before Mal.” She tensed as she felt his eyes on her. “I was too young to know. I didn’t learn of it until after that man beat it from me.” Tears streamed from her eyes. “I kn-knew you weren’t like that, b-but….”

She desperately tried to stop crying–knowing Innit would be highly uncomfortable–but all her sniffing and eye wiping made her go harder. She buried her face in her knees, shaking with sobs.

She had been too frightened of a slim possibility to trust Innit, and that had hurt them both.

She gulped at her sobs when she felt Innit rubbing her back. She bit her shaking lip as he brushed the tears off her cheek. She held her breath when their eyes met, and swallowed the disappointment as he pulled back and put both hands on the wheel.

“Where is he now? The library?”

“Why?”

“Why?” He frowned at her, puzzled. “Shouldn’t I see him? Ain’t that why you told me?”

“No. That wasn’t my intention.” She leaned her head against the door. “I don’t know why I told you. I was warned not to.”

Innit’s fingers tapped against the wheel. “You don’t want me to see him?”

“You do not get to assess him like livestock and decide if you’re invested after.” She shook her head. “No. You won’t meet him unless you’ve decided to fully commit to being his father.”

“What are you yappin’ about? I am his father!”

Heat flared up in her chest. She turned in her seat, green eyes blazing on him.

“More goes into that than just making him, Innit! You do not get to come and go at your fancy. You either stay, help raise him into a proper young man, or you leave.” She waved flippantly at the view before them. “Go save Khoa, or whatever other business it is you’ve been getting up to.”

He clenched his teeth. “That ain’t fair. I had a responsibility–.”

“I know.” She sighed at the ceiling. “Trying to save your friend–or however you and Khoa are defining yourselves this week–and trying to fulfill some legacy I cannot begin to understand is all well and noble, but you cannot do that and be Malvern’s father. You just can’t.” She rested her hand on his arm, rubbing it with her thumb. “I’m not upset, Innit, truly.”

“You seem upset.”

“I’m a touch upset, but that isn’t important. I will care for Mal, love him and raise him as properly as I am able. I will protect him until he can protect himself.”

“And I just walk away knowin’ he’s safe and loved?”

“Either that, or you give up everything else to help me raise him. I don’t know if I can even ask that, especially knowing what I do about Khoa. And you’ve made no mentions of Branch when the last time we were together she occupied many of your worries. She’s still acting the rebel, isn’t she?”

His eyes were hard as he stared at nothing through the windshield. “You’re given’ me an ultimatum when you know walkin’ away from my old life might be death for people I care about….”

“No. I’m not.” She threw open the car door and climbed out with her shoes in her hand. “I love you, Innit. I won’t ask you to make the choice. Please, be safe.”

“Kalon, wait!”

She slammed the door and started walking.

“Kalon!”

She kept walking, stumbling slightly on the hard cobbles. She hastily wiped at her eyes, but it did not help to stop the tears. She clamped her hand over her mouth and kept moving, hearing the car speed off behind her.

---

The van was thankfully where Khoa said it would be, with the key in the hiding place he decided on. Kalon had enough sense to remember to fetch them–and put on her shoes–soon after leaving Innit. She had bursts of emotions as she headed towards the library, and veered to the salon.

The door had a ‘back soon’ sign but was unlocked. She went in, bracing as Strauss came barreling from beyond the curtain that separated off the back.

“I'm closed for–Oh, Kalon? Taking a lunch break?”

“No, I….” She sniffed heartily, wiping her green eyes. “I wanted to see Mal before I headed back.”

Strauss eyed her suspiciously but said nothing as she held the curtain aside.

“Maaaa!” Mal pulled himself up, holding out his arms. “Ma! Mam!”

She pulled him from the playpen, hugging him tight. She cried into his brown hair, muttering apologies as he whined discontentment. She straightened, embarrassed, when Strauss patted her back.

“I take it he's still a twat?”

She laughed shakily. “I couldn't demand him to stay.” She juggled Mal to wipe her eyes. “I told him he was a father, and shut him out the moment he expressed any interest in Mal.”

“So… he wasn't a twat?” Strauss settled back to her lunch. “I’m a touched stunned. What was the matter with him then?”

“I don’t know how to word it….” Kalon grabbed one of Mal’s bottles from the fridge. “Maybe our lives are too different.” She settled into a chair to feed her son. “I can't say he's happy with his life, but he's not unhappy. Whatever he gets up to gives him some sense of purpose. I cannot take that.”

Strauss studied her wilted lettuce. Her mouth was a thin line.

“He's friends with that jet-hair knockout that hangs around Bex, right? Does he get up to the same crazy, fiery activities?”

Kalon kept her focus on Mal. “Him and Khoa merely grew up together. He has nothing to do with Bex’s activities.”

“A small relief. It’d be only trouble to get involved with a bloke like that.”

She nodded along with Strauss’s statement, still watching Mal or else risk giving away Innit’s life. She was unsure why it was important to keep it quiet. He had not asked her to and she did not owe it to him.

She stroked Mal’s hair. “I was so hoping you’d start to get a wave, but I think you’ll end up with straight hair after all.”

“I can always perm it.” Strauss groaned at the shrill cry sounding from down the small, rickety stair tucked in the corner. She quickly stuffed the last few forkfuls of salade into her mouth, hurrying to grab her dishes. “Short one today.”

Kalon put Mal back in his pen, shushing his protests. “I better get back to work too. Want me to flip your sign on my way out?”

She took Strauss’s half choking and dash up the stairs as a yes, and turned the sign as she left the salon. She crossed her arms and trudged towards the library, dragging her feet the closer she came. She veered off and headed for the gardens.

She wandered to the stone gazebo, walking slow circles around the floor before settling down against a column. She plucked at the dead leaves on the vines, and laughed quietly when she glimpsed the statue across the water.

She plucked the leaves until two columns were cleaned up. She took the longer route to pass the orangerie. She teetered in the doorway, breathing in the mildew with a scrunched nose.

The sunlight cast red and orange streams of light among the debris, deeping the shadows without giving the place a spooky vibe. She had too many fond memories for that. She brushed the dirt on one of the intact windows to allow more light to enter, rubbing the muck on her ripped jeans. She gave a nod, and headed back to the library.

The building had an eerie quiet to it that caused her to enter carefully. She jumped aside to make way for a pair of patrons; they muttered disgruntledly to each other over the early closure. Kalon quickened her pace–thanking others filing out–over to the front desk.

Grams was behind it, waving Gramps’s pistol lazily towards the door. The unfamiliarity of this caused Kalon to baulk, earning an annoyed glare.

“There you are, girl. Hurry and clear the rest of these out.”

“What’s happening?” Kalon forced a smile at a group of three. “Thanks for visiting. Sorry for–.”

“Don’t waste time on pleasantries. Get them all out.” Grams pressed the pistol into her hand. “I’ll fetch little Malvern tonight.”

“Is Gramps well? Did his back give out?”

Grams turned her hard eyes off towards the study hall. Kalon followed her stare, her heart dropping into her stomach.

Gramps was sitting across from Innit, both with stiffened shoulders and hands clenched on the table.

“You said nothing about seeing that boy again.” Grams grabbed her as she pulled forward. “No. You let Vern sort out this mess.” She waved angrily at the patrons mosying by. “Get these people out! Now!”

Kalon pulled her baton off her hip and cracked it across the doorway. “Out!”

The scattered patrons shuffled quicker, loudly buzzing their displeasure at the treatment. A few took long looks at her and the pistol as they passed, others peeking back to attempt to make sense of the early closing and what the platinum-haired stranger had to do with it.

She rushed over as soon as she shut the doors behind the last visitor, but once more was blocked by Grams.

“Leave it to Vern. He won’t kill the boy. You have his pistol.”

She hovered up on her toes, swaying to see around Grams to gauge what was happening. She shrunk back as Gramps stood and stalked over; Innit trailing behind with his head hung.

“Right, love, I’ll take these two. You fetch young Malvern.”

“Where are you taking–?”

“Don’t dawdle, my girl.” Grams held out her hands. “Give your weapons. And don’t worry about little Malvern. I’ll see to it that he’s fed and goes to sleep.”

Kalon handed over the pistol and baton, backing away apprehensively before turning to trot after Gramps and Innit who had continued outside without a pause. She peeked at Innit, but he was staring thousands of miles away. Her brow furrowed.

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s happening?”

“I’m taking you to the court to fix the family register.”

“Meaning… he’s claiming Mal as his?” She rounded on Innit. “You’re claiming Mal as yours?” Her blood turned hot. “You two decided this without me?”

Innit’s eyes focused on Gramps’s back. “I told you she–.”

“Enough.” Gramps shot them a look over his shoulder. “Both of you.”

She tried to catch Innit’s eye, but he went back to staring into nothingness. The anger was quickly replaced with frustration, and then with nerves as they approached the court. She was nauseous as they entered, trading the darkening streets and weak lamplight for the bright lights of the interior.

“Mr. Gousa, welcome!” The clerk hurriedly came to shake Gramps’s hand. “Not often you visit. Did you find an interesting record we should keep?” His face lit up. “Or, has Mrs. Gousa released her summary, and we need to know?”

“This is of a more personal matter.” Gramps ushered Kalon forward. “My granddaughter, you remember?”

“Miss Gousa, of course, always such a help.” The clerk’s eyes darted to Innit and his customer service smile stretched. “And he is?”

“Her husband. But you know how those damned colonials are careless with their papers, especially compared to us here in Dijon.”

Kalon was sure Gramps and the clerk exchanged a few words about the bureaucratic inefficiencies of colonials–while stroking the clerk’s ego–but she was having trouble focusing. She did not dare look at Innit now. She was worried she would stop breathing if she did anything else but look at the pattern on the floor.

“Ah, right, the boy was named for you.” The clerk laughed fakely. “I’ll say, correcting the surname will make it much more clear which Malvern is which.” He frowned exaggeratedly. “Unfortunately, Miss Gousa–or, no, sorry.”

Gramps waved dismissively. “Pay it no mind. I assume the record dates cannot be amended?”

“Correct, sir. Everything will have tonight’s date on it. I am terribly sorry for that inconvenience.”

“I warned them not to marry outside Dijon just in case this precise problem occurred. Ah, well, it’s remedied now.” Gramps’s keen eyes went to Innit. “And my grandson-in-law is finished the travel portion of his work, so is at last here to sign the birth record.”

“I’ll fetch all the forms at once, Mr. Gousa. A long belated felicitations to you both.”

Kalon smiled at the clerk until he disappeared. She rounded on Gramps. “You’re having us married!”

“You object?”

“I….” She still could not catch Innit’s eye. “I would like to have been informed first. I look an absolute fool standing here with my mouth hanging open.” She continued to stare at Innit with no acknowledgement. “What did he say to you to force you into this? Did he threaten you?” She glared at Gramps. “Did you threaten him?”

“Would that matter?”

“I want him to want–!”

“Hush, he’s coming back. Look pleased.” Gramps smiled warmly, that warmth not reaching his eyes. “So sorry to have you running around when you’re so near closing.”

“Not at all, sir, happy to help.” The clerk set out five different forms. “Unfortunately, because of the error, your granddaughter and her son have been recorded incorrectly, so I need an official name change signed as well.” He looked pointedly at Innit. “So sorry for the trouble, monsieur.”

Innit blinked like ice water was thrown in his face and took an inch step back.

“Nevermind him. He’s been on the road all day and night.” Gramps laughed lightly. “You know how Pistachio is; she had to put her apprentice through the ringer despite the familial ties.”

“Of course, sir, of course.” The clerk forced a pen into Innit’s hand. “I’ll guide you along. Your grandfather-in-law knows all these forms. No worries. Shall we do the birth record first, and then your son’s name change?”

Kalon moved closer to watch Innit sign the forms in tidy letters. She mouthed ‘Llewellyn’ to herself, reading the name over twice to be sure of the spelling. She was only required to sign the name changes and marriage certificate having already signed the birth record and family register.

The clerk signed all the documents in a hasty scrawl, and slammed a stamp on each. “All taken care of!”

“Much appreciated, and I'll be sure to remember your help once Pistachio comes out with her newest work.”

She allowed Gramps to escort her from the court, stealing looks to make sure Innit was following. Her stomach was still knotted and his lack of recognition was making it worse.

“Is there any place you two wish to go? A quiet eatery, perhaps? Suppose even a romantic room would be appropriate. Some serve food.”

“I just want to unpack.”

Kalon winced as Gramps stiffened at Innit’s cool words. She tightly folded her arms.

“Very well. Pistachio and I will take young Malvern out for dinner.”

“Oh, no, Gramps, you needn't trouble yourselves.”

“You two will need quiet to discuss how your lives will look from now on.”

She slowed, stopped, and allowed them to pull ahead. She gave a shaky smile as Gramps and Innit turned, the older looking at her with thought while the younger looked more in her general direction than at her.

“You go on ahead. I have an errand.”

She waited until they disappeared before veering to the clothing district. Several of the casual wear shops already darkened their windows for the night; a handful of those dedicated to women’s fashion had done the same. She passed these without a look, going directly for the brightly lit windows of a night wear store.

She paused at men’s pajama sets located at the front, running her fingers along the folded piles of fabric. Innit had nothing specific for sleeping in, at least not that she had ever noticed. She would need to notice and remedy these things from now on.

“Bonsoir, miss.”

She startled, laughing embarrassedly at the surprised look on the salesgirl’s face. “Pardon, I was lost in thought. Do you have lingerie?”

The girl glanced at the men’s pajamas. “For your husband, madam?”

Kalon blinked at the change of address. She nodded quickly to cover her expression the best she could, and went back to feeling the different pajama fabrics.

“Yes, I suppose so.” She smiled. “He was away for work for quite a time.”

“Ah, of course! You want to make his homecoming special, remind him what he missed out on the road, yes?”

Her cheeks reddened. “Something of that sort, yes.” She picked up a set of red pajamas that were soft and somewhat cool to the touch. “I should get him something to wear as well.”

“Of course, madam. And for you… long, elegant, and silken?” The girl nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, a bit of class and stateliness to chase the dreary drives away.” She scurried around Kalon, fussing with her curls while dragging her to the back of the store where the lingerie was kept. “Your hair is quite grand. That touch of blue… perhaps a nice, warm cream or cool pewter? You’d look simply lovely, especially if you pulled your hair up to show off your neck.”

She watched the girl pulling long, silken gowns from the rack, chattering about the grace they would add. Her heart thumped harder with each pull from the rack and accompanying phrase.

There was nothing classy or graceful about she and Innit. Their various rendezvous happened spontaneously, at first, and with very little trigger later on. She had been thrown to the dirty floor of the orangerie, and shoved him into the dankest corners of the library.

She cleared her throat. “I think, perhaps, something… rather short. And sheer.”

“Short and sheer? If you’re sure… though it wouldn’t allow him much imagination.”

Kalon smiled wryly. “He’ll be fine.”

She allowed the salesgirl to assist her in picking out a short, sheer gown with a plunging neckline. She went with pink to offset the blue streak in her hair and blend with her skintone. She left, taking calming breaths, with the lingerie and Innit’s pajamas.

The library was fully dark when she entered with the smallest fraction of light coming from the doorway that led to the dwelling beneath. The shocking quiet made her jittery. She found Gramps, Grams, and Mal nowhere in sight or earshot, but Innit was sitting in Grams’s overstuffed chair with his laptop out.

“Did I miss you meeting Mal?”

Innit shrugged, keeping his eyes on his screen. “Just saw him from a ways. Your grampa ain’t want me to be near him for the next few days.”

“Ridiculous. You’ll help with his breakfast tomorrow.”

She waited, but no response of any sort came. She moved nearer and carefully set the paper-wrapped red pajamas on the arm of the chair–Innit flinching and turning his screen away from her.

“I thought you might like something clean to sleep in.”

“Thanks…. You ain’t got to wait up for me if you’re tired.”

“Me? Those dark circles beneath your eyes are stark. When did you last sleep?”

He did not answer, eyes once more firmly locked on the screen. He bit at his thumbnail. His leg began to bounce.

Her own paper package crinkled in her grip. “You didn’t need to come here. I told you that I could raise–.”

“I ain’t got doubts about that.” His eyes flickered up for a fraction of a second to show her recognition. “I couldn’t disappear knowin’. I don’t want to be that type of man.”

“But are you here?”

His fingers paused over his keys. His blue eyes were unfocused, staring unblinkingly into the milky glow of the screen. There was extra shine to his eyes that she thought might not have been due to his lack of blinking. His breathing sounded too shallow for it to be just that.

“There was this time right after Dice started everything where it was just us two sittin’ around, not really sayin’ much of anything–nothing I can remember anyways–and he just randomly says he could see us all droppin’ it and walkin’ away. Said it was early enough we could.” Innit’s mouth twisted between a nostalgic smile and a bitter frown. “Even flat out said it could be good to let it alone, said what jobs we’d fall into in Corner Seamounts….” Innit braced himself against his hands with a deep sigh. “I can’t remember exactly what I said to him, doubt of some sort probably, and he just… smirked at me and backtracked it all. Said he had to keep goin’ but we didn’t need to.” He dragged his hands down his face as he straightened. “I ain’t Dice Rebels.” He looked her way. “I ain’t goin’ to lie to you, Kalon. It’s goin’ to be really hard for me to walk away. I reckon I’ll never do it fully. But… after you jumped out of the car cryin’, I knew I had to come back the second I drove off. I can’t live with you thinkin’ I don’t love you.”

Her heart fluttered and she could not stop the goofy smile that spread across her face. “You truly do love me then?” She held her package to her chest. “I knew I wasn’t wrong.”

“Okay, okay, calm down.” He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Reckon I should try to finish this up before your grandparents get back. They’ll be madder than you to see me on this thing.”

“Well… it is our wedding night….”

Innit snorted, going back to his laptop. “That ain’t even started to sink in.”

She waited for more, further talk or a look, but nothing came. She looked at the package in her hands, and went into the bedroom.

Mal’s bed was outside in the hall with her room being too cramped. Her vanity barely fit, and she had to climb over the bed to use it, or to get in and out of the room. Innit had just his laptop and a suitcase, but there was no spot to put them, not with the wardrobe packed with hers and Mal’s clothes.

She tossed the paper packaging into the hall, followed by her clothes as she changed into her negligee. She looked herself up and down in the wardrobe mirror, mussed her hair, and leaned against the wall outside her door.

“Innit.” She sighed as she went ignored. “Innit!”

He looked up with annoyance. “What?” 

His mouth went slack. His eyes darted between the laptop and her. He shut the lid, tossed the laptop in the chair, and stepped over to her. He carefully placed his hands on her waist.

She touched his cheek. “I’ll be here to pull you back.”

She brushed her fingertips up into his hair soothingly, coaxing him to lean forward into her kiss.

---

There was a flurry of dustmotes swirling in the sunbeams streaming from the windows. Kalon covered her nose and mouth with her elbow, frantically swatting at the leather books before her with a no-longer-white cloth. The dust overwhelmed her. She sneezed.

A tiny, fake sneeze sounded from around her knees in response.

Kalon laughed, chased the airborne dust away with large waves of her arms, and smiled down at the small toddler–blonde hair in two, little ponytails with just the very tips twisted to suggest curls may be possible.

“Sorry, Wendy, is Mummy being too careless?” She took the cloth Wendy held up to her. “Thank you, my sweet girl. Mine has gotten rather soiled. How about we finish up this row and go downstairs?”

Her smile faltered as Wendy settled down to pull at the heavy books on the bottom shelf. She was as silent as always.

She hoisted Wendy onto her hip as soon as she finished dusting the shelf. She allowed the small girl to carry the dirty rags for her and she carried her down to the ground floor, her heeled bootlets echoing around the study hall.

A man timidly approached. “Um, madam…?” He looked nervously from Wendy to the baton on Kalon’s other hip. “If it isn’t too much trouble, would you assist me?”

“Of course, sir. I can give titles, authors, and general summaries if you have a book on hand.” She adjusted Wendy. “Otherwise, you’ll have to wait a moment. I don’t do fetch requests with my children present.”

“I’m trying to better my tomatoes….”

Kalon gave him three titles for gardening and offered to locate a more specific reference after Wendy was safely downstairs. She carried her down, grabbing the rail as her legs wobbled.

“Whew, sorry, we almost went down the harder way.”

She put Wendy in what used to be her bedroom, now cleared of the vanity, wardrobe, and with the bed replaced by a narrow daybed. Worn stuffed toys littered the space, along with wooden blocks. The alphabet was painted neatly on the wall with clumsy scrawls and plain scribbles joining them.

Kalon pulled a gate across the doorway, latching it and double checking it was really latched. “I’ll get your snack. You’ll have to stay here until closing though. Maybe Grams will take a break and read to you? …Probably not.”

Wendy grabbed the gate and held the dirty rags up.

“Thank you, my sweet one.” She paused, but Wendy just stared with big, blue eyes. “I’ll get you that snack.”

She stuck her head into Grams’s office space, hearing the clacking of keys and seeing the laptop screen washing out the old woman’s deep wrinkles.

“Anything in mind for dinner?”

Grams blinked, pinched her tired eyes, and looked up. “Dinner? What time is it?”

“About four, I think.”

“Are you staying?”

“Can’t tonight. I need to get to bed early.”

She squirmed under Grams’s stare, but kept her face neutral. She quietly exhaled when Grams went back to her work.

“We had plenty of ham stew leftover from last night. Vern and I can make do with that.”

“Shall I put it on?”

“No, I’ll do it in a few. The news cycle is rather slow. Rumors too few between.” She gave a tight smile. “Why else have I asked Innit to stay home this week?”

“I thought because Clara started school….”

Grams gave a grunt that indicated both that she had heard and forgotten all about Clara starting school.

“Grams?” She waited for another sound of recognition. “Wendy is in the playroom. Come get me if she….” She picked her ruby nails. “I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

She busied her hands fixing up crusty bits of toast with soft cheese slices on top for Wendy. She felt her forehead as it momentarily swam, giving it a shake for extra measures. Her balance had been spotty since last night. She worried she would wake with a scratchy throat, but that did not appear yet.

“Mal and Clara don't seem ill at least….” 

She frowned, setting the cheese knife down. She plucked the calendar off the side of the fridge, running her finger back from today, her eyebrows knitting as she mouthed numbers. She peeled back to the previous month.

“Oh… the lake stroll….”

She dropped the calendar page with a long sigh. She gave Wendy her snack and headed up to finish minding the patrons. She found a small smile on her face each time her mind wandered off, a frown only appearing when a few strands of her royal blue lock fell from her bun. The roots needed to be touched up. It would be months before that would be addressed now. It was going to look terrible.

When she was satisfied all in the study hall were situated, she retreated downstairs to get Wendy. She called out a farewell to Grams on her way up, and headed for the door, pausing to say goodbye to Gramps.

“Leaving already? There’s still some daylight.”

“Hardly any.” She adjusted Wendy. “I need to get dinner on for Innit and the kids.”

“Can’t he?”

“Not if I want to keep my kitchen intact. Honestly, you should see the state of it when he makes lunch.” She adjusted Wendy again. “Besides, he’s supposed to walk the kids back from school. I just hope he didn’t lose track of the time and show up too late. Clara only just started and her nerves are starting to replace that initial excitement.” 

She struggled to get Wendy back to her hip.

“Just allow her to walk. She’s two. She can.”

“She can walk once we get to the grounds.” She readjusted her toddler. “Say ‘bye-bye’ to Gramps.”

Wendy silently waved, and hid her face in Kalon’s shoulder.

Gramps rubbed Kalon’s other shoulder, smiling sympathetically but saying nothing.

She had to adjust Wendy every few steps. She was forced to set her down once they came to the decrepit rail tracks, her heels and her balance making it too much of a chore to haul the toddler over. She bent slightly to take her hand.

“Watch your steps, please. The sleepers are quite loose.”

She gave Wendy's hand a jerk to swing her over the last of the track. The faint, delighted squeal caused her chest to swell and ache all at once. She hoisted Wendy up over the short, stone wall that separated the old garden grounds from the city. She allowed Wendy to walk alone, keeping her pace slow to not pull too far ahead.

The orangerie came into view. There were no longer boards on any of the windows, all now having glass–one being stained glass–and a faint, warm glow coming from each.

She let Wendy in through the front door, frowning at the silence inside.

“Hello? Mal? Clara?” She knelt to remove Wendy's shoes. “Innit?”

She pulled Wendy back and took her hand to keep her from running off ahead. The lights were on, and she did not get a sense of utter dread, but the silence was unwelcoming. She lightly stepped further into the house, keeping Wendy’s hand and holding her so that she was positioned to be yanked behind her if the need arose.

Innit was wedged in the corner of their living room. His laptop’s bright glow washed out his face.

She released Wendy to allow her to rush over and collide with his knees.

“Wha–? Oh, Wendy, you’re home!” He set the laptop aside, but kept it open, and pulled Wendy onto his knee. “Do a lot of dustin’ with Mama today?”

“Didn’t you hear me call?” Kalon’s eyes darted to the laptop. “Where are Mal and Clara?” Her stomach plummeted. “Innit… you didn’t–?”

He glared at her. “I didn’t forget them at school. They wanted to play with Isabelline. Said I’d pick ‘em up once you started on dinner.” He set Wendy down. “You can come too. Give Mama some quiet to cook in.”

She pinched her eyes. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have….” She sighed heavily and gave a frustrated wave to the glowing laptop. “I saw you on that thing, and you were so absorbed, and my mind right now is….”

“Do you need more than a quiet minute? I can run and grab food with the kids. Bring you back something.”

She smiled, rubbing the small ‘I’ tattooed on her left ring finger, just visible above a blingy, black ring Innit had given her shortly after Clara had been born. She wiped at the tears that started to spill from her green eyes, still smiling and laughing slightly at his discomfort.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

“...What? How? We've been careful since Clara!” He glanced down at Wendy. “Except that one time.” He shut his blue eyes with a groan. “The lake….”

She laughed but that turned to sobs. She buried her face in her hands and turned away from Wendy's large, imploring eyes. She twisted into Innit’s shoulder as he put an arm around her.

“It's too quiet ‘round here with the bigger kids in school anyway.”

“Sh-she can't t-talk!”

“That ain't what I was gettin’ at….”

“I d-don’t want her to get o-overlooked because of a new b-baby.” She wiped her eyes on his shoulder. “H-how am I going to h-help her talk if I’m caring for a n-newborn?”

“Hey.” Innit pulled her back, taking her face. “Wendy is fine. There ain’t a thing wrong with her.”

“B-but, everything I’ve read–.”

“Get out of your head for a sec, and just look at her. She’s fine.” He put his hand on her stomach. “A fourth one, huh?” His brow knit. “We’re runnin’ out of space here.”

She laughed shakily, putting her hand over his. “We’ll be even more extra careful.”

“We have to be. I ain’t the type of handy to be makin’ half a dozen bunkbeds.” He kissed her forehead. “Put your feet up. The kids and me will bring dinner back.” He hoisted Wendy up away from her toys. “You goin’ to help pick out something sweet for Mama?”

She leaned against the doorway, repeatedly curling her fingers to wave at Wendy as she looked back at her--waving hugely with one hand and grasping Innit’s hand with the other. She slipped back indoors. She surveyed the house for a moment–looking to see if something needed doing–then went into the bath to rinse the layer of dust. She opted to shake out her curls with the later hour and the irritatingly long time it took for them to completely dry.

She continued gently shaking her hair after she dressed in pajamas and walked back into the bulk of the living room. She stopped, staring at the laptop glowing in Innit’s chair.

She approached it, watched the screen pulsate, and shut the lid with a snap. She grabbed it by its handle and yanked it off the chair; her other hand going to her stomach.

“Your father, always leaving this dreadful thing where your brother and sisters can jump on it.” She set the laptop on the dining table. “He’ll tell me about it later.”

Kalon fell back in Innit’s chair and propped her feet up, shutting her eyes and smiling as she heard the sounds of her family racing for the door.

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

It is done! I almost ended it with Kalon giving Innit the extra sandwhichs to share with Magpie, but that would've been a couple sentence of that, or too much of a back and forth of him going over why he was going. And this is a what-if or something. Which is also why I didn't show Innit interacting with any of the kids minus the very brief bit with Wendy at the end (and she doesnt talk because I didn't want to try remembering/figuring out how a 2yo would sound, lol). So, when I started writing stuff with Mal I think Minn was about 7 months old, and I knew I wante him to be 9 months when Innit came back, and I was trying to figure out what I'd need to fake to make him 9 months more believably... and then Minn ended up being 9-10 months during those bits with him.

Kid names! Mal(vern) for the librarian, also a town outside of Philly. The girls' names go back to the books Kalon kept in her vanity (the Nutcracker, Peter Pan, collection of Persian mythology, Holy Bible). I never stated it anywhere, but because of how the healthcare works, you don't get your first appointment until you're 4 months along. That's why in the Magpie what-if, he knows he's having a son but Innit has no idea what he's in for, because the appointment didn't happen yet. During the first (sometimes only) appointment, you get the pregnacy confirmation--big duh at that point--and they do the anatomy scan, so you're told if there is a deveoplment issue and what the sex is. You don't get to be 'I want a surprise' they just tell you.

I can't remember if I had anything else to put here because I'm being screehed at, lol. The only part I didn't post was Kalon meeting Bex, which I didn't finish. I'll post her description of him since it's the only thing I really like from it:

 The young man passing by the window was unfamiliar. The word that popped into Kalon’s mind was ‘autumn’; all the splendor of the leaves changing on the mountains, the crispness of the air, the sweet scent of petrichor, and the bright sun that brought out the darker shades of everything shifting towards death.

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One of my friends had one of these cool liquid sparkle cases on her phone and so then I was on a mission to find one for my phone. I found one... and while it is indeed sparkly and beautiful, its a larger case than what I'm used to. Not by much, but it's enough. It was also a pain to get on and started lifting up my screen protector, and, it felt kinda cheap. If the liquid ever broke out of containment, that would be bad.

Im not gonna lie that I kinda still want it, lol, but I think im good not being mesmerized by my phone case. I'll have to look for one of those glass wands like I had as a kid instead 😁

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It was on right when I got in the car so I just did a normal video this time 🙄

But yes we leave for Vegas in the morning for a quick vacation and to see the Backstreet Boys in person Sunday night!!

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Unboxing New Microphone

My old mic decided it didn't want to work with my computer anymore, so Sean got me a new one. I figured why not do an unboxing video for it!

Edit: I was so upset finally using it and realizing it STILL SOUNDED TERRIBLE and in desperation I turned to YouTube and in 1 minute a guy showed me a checkbox in windows settings that fixed it and I am back in business!!

...also peobably means the old mic would still work but this mic is still better anyway 😁

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January 23, 2025
Some Story Talk: Mioko

HEY LOOK I finally recorded something again. It's audio only since I was driving... ha

But basically, I'd been tossing around new thoughts for Mioko's backstory (how he becomes bound to the crystal) and in the time it took for me to get to record this, I made up my mind on which route I wanted to take. It's kinda rambly, and there are car noises, but it's not bad! I may have to do more like this.

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Some Story Talk ep. 11

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I recently rediscovered a sketch of these two from a few years ago, based on this gorgeous Kenny Loggins song that ended up inspiring me to make an animatic featuring Hudson before I could fully finish the sketch.

Since it was December again, I was compelled to make it a full drawing - but I ended up finishing it in time to give Hudson and Gemini my first drawing of 2026! 😁

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December 25, 2025
Mistletoe Mayhem: A Westfall Christmas Comic

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P.Track.18

Nellie crinkled her nose at the strong stench of rotting meat and burnt hair. She clamped her free hand over her nose, raising the flashlight she held in the other. There was a clear trail through the trees with broken twigs creating an outline roughly seven feet tall. Her skin broke out in goose pimples.

A crash caused her to jump. She cut her scream short, spinning to capture the creature in her light. She exhaled, her adrenaline still coursing through her enough to make her tremble, as a lanky Hispanic boy around fifteen stumbled through the nearest bush.

“Fin,” Nellie hissed. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Fin opened his mouth, clamped it shut, and waved his hand in front of his face. “Whew! That bigfoot is close all right!”

“Fin! Ssh!”

“Chill, Nell, we’re just tracking it,” Fin said. “We ain’t supposed to find it.” He squinted at her, frowning. “You’re using the wrong light. And, it’s in my eyes.”

Nellie hastily pointed the flashlight down and switched it to the red light. She stuck close to Fin as they stalked through the woods; she clutching the flashlight and he whacking tree trunks with a switch.

The smell grew stronger. Nellie kept her jaw clenched to stop from visibly gagging.

The trees ahead creaked. The red beam shone on a large, hairy figure crouched and hunched over. Its mossy greenish-brown shoulders heaved as it crunched something that sounded sickenly like bones.

“Oh,” Fin gasped weakly.

The bigfoot snapped its head up and towards them. Its mouth dribbled, and Nellie was hoping the red was just due to the flashlight. She froze as its silverback-like mouth trembled with snarls.

“Nell,” Fin said, keeping his voice low and elbowing her. “The light.” He jabbed her harder, right in the ribs. “Switch the light!”

Nellie fumbled with the flashlight, taking her eyes from the bigfoot as it rose. Cold sweat broke over her as it roared. She managed to switch back to the overly bright, white-yellow light just as she felt the hot breath of the bigfoot bearing over them. She swung it up into its beady, black eyes.

The bigfoot bellowed out in discomfort, spinning away from the light.

She was yanked sideways, then away into a run by Fin. He had his phone out above his head. The weak light of the cracked screen glowed like a rectangular wisp.

“Cal,” Fin called out. “Bigfoot incoming!”

A whistling hiss cut the air, followed by another before the first had time to die away. There was a thunk-thunk and a mighty crash of the bigfoot tripping over itself.

Nellie slowed to see what happened, but Fin grabbed her shoulder to keep her running forward. They put enough space that the bigfoot chose not to follow; its thumping steps trailing and the awful smell drifting off.

They broke through the treeline at a trot.

A large, lush lawn stretched up a gentle hill towards a palace of a house. It was made up of two sections, a three-story and a two-story. There was a story-high connector made of multiple windows that looked like a warm, glowing corridor from the dark. Many of the windows twinkled with light, lighting the house enough to show the neat, black shutters and stone facade.

There was a large firepit near the tennis court off to the side. Laughter wafted towards them on the notes of a speaker playing music, letting them know they were safe.

Fin straightened, stretching his back with a small groan. He flashed Nellie a smile. “S’mores?”

---

The sun blared through a slit in the deep green, velvet drapes, rousing Nellie from her pillows.

Her room at Silas’s compound was a perfect square with dark wood trim and navy walls. Her sleigh style, kingsized bed was loaded with plush pillows, crisp sheets, and a deer skin blanket. It was always hard to leave it.

She was assaulted by the smell of bacon, sausages, and syrup as she headed for the dining room. Her stomach groaned.

The dining room was a cavernous room with a vaulted ceiling. A crystal chandelier was in the middle above the long, rectangular table that stood before a huge, stone fireplace. A shiny gong the size of a trashcan lid was placed off to the side. The table had twelve place settings, three of which were empty. A second table, half as long and half as wide, was against the wall where Nellie entered. This table was ladened with breakfast foods.

She loaded her plate with waffles, eggs, and bacon, and had just sat down when a stout, elderly woman drew everyone’s attention with a slam of her ornate walking stick against the gong.

“Perenelle Herle. Serafin Cabrera. Calix Dimopoulos,” she named off sharply. “Mr. Javernick wants a word. Now.”

She grabbed a waffle on her way out, and was joined by an exhausted looking Fin and a tall, olive-skinned boy with soft, brown curls. She trailed them, their strides being longer, down a hall with white wainscotting to a dark door with bronze fittings. A plaque next to the door read: S. Javernick.

“You think we’re in trouble,” Nellie asked the two older boys.

“We are,” Fin said. “He’ll let you off for being a kid.”

Silas was eating his own breakfast at his desk. He was engrossed with papers on his desk, his reading glasses low on his hawkish nose. He peered over the top of them, set them aside, and straightened.

“Which one of you had the idea to go annoy our resident bigfoot,” Silas asked.

“I thought Nell could get some extra training in,” Fin said. “She’s been here a week, and you haven’t–.”

“Exactly, Serafin,” Silas said firmly. “She’s been here a week. Far too soon to toss her out in the woods in the middle of the night.”

“That’s why I went with her,” Fin said. “I had backup.”

“Calix,” Silas said, nodding to the tall boy.

“I feel Fin had good idea,” Calix said, heavily accented. “I say yes when he ask me to trip bigfoot if I need to. I need to. I trip it. We all go to the fire.”

Silas leaned back in his leather chair, pinching at his eyes. “I’m not saying the plan wasn’t effective. I’m upset that you did it without clearing it. And for dragging a young girl along.”

“This is what we’re training for,” Fin challenged.

“Knight Cabrera didn’t send you here for you to take your training into your own hands,” Silas said. “He certainly didn’t send you here to drag Commander Herle’s daughter off on some hazing trip.” Silas looked at Calix. “Anything to add?”

“I hit target using night goggles…,” Calix said offhandedly.

Silas’s mouth twitched as he tried stopping a smirk.

“You two go back to breakfast before it gets cold,” Silas said. “I need to talk to Nellie.”

“Sorry, Nell,” Fin said, backing out of the office.

“Sorry,” Calix repeated, doing the same.

Nellie squirmed where she stood once the two boys left. Her shoulders eased as Silas smiled at her, shaking his head.

“I know you’re eager to get out in the field, but I promised Nathalie you’d be safe,” Silas said.

“Fin and Calix were with me,” Nellie said. “They’ve been doing this forever.”

“Nellie,” Silas said, a tone of warning.

She sighed heavily. “Fine. I won’t go sneak around the woods.”

“You’ll have field work before you go back to school,” Silas said. “Don’t rush it.” He gestured to the door. “Go get breakfast. Oh, one more thing. Morgan is due to arrive by tonight. I don’t want to put extra pressure on you, but… he is your cousin. Just keep an eye on him.”

Her plate was cold when she returned to it. The warm syrup helped very little, but the food was still delicious. She was the last in the dining room and took her time, enjoying the silence.

Morgan arriving would put them at ten, not including Silas and Mrs. Adams. Six of the ten were boys, and with the youngest of the boys being thirteen, all of them were teenagers. She had a lot of fun with them, but they could be loud and gross beyond her tolerance level.

She headed outside into a warm, sunny day with a welcomed breeze. Figures of the other kids dotted the hillside. It was easy to pick Calix out from the others with him standing apart, shooting at targets. There was a flash of fire which signaled to Itzel—the second oldest of the girls—sparring among them.

Nellie counted six people running, jumping, swinging, shooting. She veered away to the far lawn where the gardens and stables were kept. She waved largely at the two figures in the garden.

Ava jumped up, waving back. “Hey! Missed you at breakfast.”

“Silas didn’t appreciate the extra curricular activity last night,” Nellie said. She glanced at the willowy sixteen-year-old girl with impossibly long, blonde hair. This girl was sitting in the dirt, holding a weed against the bright sky with a vacant smile. “Good morning, Lilac. …What’re you doing?”

“There are so many veins,” Lilac murmured. “Do leaves bleed?”

Nellie inched away from Lilac and turned her full attention to Ava. “What’re you doing in the garden? I thought you were here to learn from Arch and Itzel?”

“Yes… but, they wanted to practice so I…,” Ava trailed away.

It was a welcomed surprise when Nellie met Ava at the airport to fly to Silas’s compound. She apparently came from a line of druids, and her mother’s green thumb was more magical than colloquial. She was supposed to learn the basics from the other two mages to help strengthen her weak, nature-based magic.

Itzel favored fire, and lacked patience. It made her a poor tutor, worse still was the language barrier.

Arch was just Arch.

“Do you see this flower,” Lilac interjected. She was lightly running her fingers up a tall sprig of deep, blue flowers. “It’s poisonous. Causes paralysis.”

“...Cool,” Nellie said.

There was a lapse of silence as Lilac set about plucking the blue flowers, carefully placing them in a small, wicker basket. Nellie suspected the next flower she turned her attentions to was also poisonous.

“Want to visit Hodge,” Nellie asked Ava.

They took a cobbled path from the garden up to the stables. The stables were a long, elegant building made of stone. There were twelve extra large box stalls, a tack room, a carriage room, and a loft.

Hodge was in the stall nestled by the tack room right by the entrance. He was snoozing with his feet curled to his stomach. His head bobbed rhythmically as if he was dreaming.

“He’s so beautiful,” Ava whispered, clutching the bars on the door. Tears brimmed her eyes. She hastily removed her glasses to wipe them away. “S-sorry. This is a lot.”

“Tell me about it,” Nellie said. She pressed her face into the bars to watch Hodge sleep. “I’ve had five months to get used to the Realm, and it still makes my head spin.”

“I knew magic was real,” Ava said. “The jokes about Mammaw being a witch never had any punch to them. But, unicorns, bigfoot, a secret society….”

Silas made it clear before the tickets were booked that his compound was routinely used for the Auctorita to assess potential recruits. Some of the kids were children of Auctorita members, or of the Order of Ferblanc, or had some kind of tie to the Seekers, but others were like Ava; Silas or someone happened to stumble upon them.

“My cousin is coming in tonight,” Nellie said.

“The one that was visiting over Spring Break? I never did get to meet him.”

Hodge lifted his head. His nostrils flared. He staggered to his cloven feet, and began pawing at the shavings in agitation.

A stocky, black boy with a surfer bro vibe sauntered up to them. He wore a thick, leather chestpiece over his t-shirt. A wooden sword was on his hip and a small, metal disc shield was attached to his left forearm.

“Sorry, Hodge, I’ll hang back,” he said to the increasingly angry unicorn.

“What’s up, Brody,” Nellie asked.

“Class time,” Brody said. He jumped back as Hodge body slammed the stall. “Okay, okay, I'm leaving! Hurry along you two, or Mrs. Adams will have a fit.”

Nellie and Ava were just visiting for the summer, but for the other kids, they lived at the compound year-round. They were schooled throughout the year in all the regular subjects, Nellie and Ava were exempt from those, but they also had supplemental classes in diplomacy, debate, etiquette, histories of the Realm, and other such lessons; those were the lessons required for all of them.

She was sitting at a wooden writing desk next to Ava and the youngest of the boys, Arden, fifteen minutes later. The lesson of the morning was cryptid focused; Nellie suspected it had something to do with the bigfoot venture the previous night as there were questions on the difference between the ape-like creatures.

“Let’s review the worksheet,” Mrs. Adams said, slowly pacing in front of them. She stopped and put her hands on her hip. “Miss Maebry, put that larkspur back in your basket!”

Lilac stopped sniffing the blue flower she delicately held, dropping it into the wicker basket tucked under her desk.

“Now then… let’s continue.”

It was amazing how treating the seven-foot tall, carnivorous beasts like homework rendered them as dull as fractions. After the lecture and worksheet review, Mrs. Adams quizzed them on dinner etiquette until the study period was over.

“Miss Wagner, one moment,” Mrs. Adams said, holding her hand out to stop Ava and Nellie from leaving the study room. “How are your magical studies going?”

“Um… fine…,” Ava murmured.

“I expect progress to be slow,” Mrs. Adams said. “Nature based magic is less common; much more akin to being an excellent gardener than what we think of as magic. That, plus being young will make things slow. I don’t expect you to really blossom, pardon the expression, until thirteen or fourteen.” She attempted a smile with her thin mouth. “Don’t worry so much about it. Just listen to Miss de la Torre and Mr. Willoughby.” Her overly plucked eyebrows lowered. “Well, perhaps just Mr. Willoughby, given the language situation.”

Mrs. Adams gave a curt nod, and swept by them, calling out to Fin for her check-in with him before the year-round boarders returned to lessons.

Nellie and Ava returned to the stables. They gaped at Hodge for a while before going to the two last stalls. One of them housed what looked like eight slightly larger rabbits, but that was dashed with the other stall housing the same rabbits except that these five had small antlers.

“Mr. Javernick said they were mixing them next week,” Ava said.

“Before going to the Conservatory?” Nellie smiled as a buck scratched his antlers against a stump. “I guess it’ll be less work for the Keepers if they try to start breeding here.”

As it turned out, jackalopes were headed towards the endangered species list. Between cars, construction projects, and the tourist traps’ taxidermy being genuine, the small rabbits had taken a hit. Silas had a fondness for them—Nellie was not completely sure he was joking when he said he used to eat them in his youth—so helped out with building the population whenever the Keepers needed.

Hodge started carrying on, snorting and stamping the ground. Fin walked over with a side eye at Hodge, scooting further from his stall as the unicorn grew more agitated.

“Mr. Javernick is looking for you,” he informed them. He grinned at the jackalopes. “I’m your keeper today. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Does he want to see both of us, or can I help,” Ava asked.

Nellie jumped in at Fin’s unsure expression. “Creatures don’t mind her,” she said. “Her magic isn’t like the magic-magic.”

“Just with the females, to be on the safe side,” Fin said. He winked at Nellie. “Gotten into enough creature related trouble for the week.”

Nellie left Fin and Ava to the jackalopes. She went back to the house and found herself outside Silas’s office. She took a breath, knocked, and slithered inside when she was told to enter.

“Ah, there you are,” Silas said, setting his reading glasses aside. He picked up a sealed letter from his desk. “Nathalie sent a letter.”

“Oh… thanks,” Nellie said, accepting it.

Silas smiled. “You seem disappointed.”

“Guess I was expecting… something,” Nellie said. She opened the letter, scanning over it, a smirk spreading across her face. “Ash is doing good. And she’s teaching the hobbyist welding course at the tech college twice a week.” She groaned. “She thinks letter writing is a lost art and says I should write her instead of relying on the weekly phone usage.”

“You can write everyday, even if the mailing takes longer than a text,” Silas said. “It is a good way to keep sharp. But, I still say you give her a call Saturday. She’ll want to hear your voice.”

The warmness she felt at Silas’s statement waned as her mind wandered. She folded up her letter.

“Something else, Nellie?”

“You said Morgan was coming tonight…”

“I suspect Amias will be his chaperone,” Silas said. He snorted. “Even my compound is too much nature for him. I hope he stays long enough to hear our resident bigfoot bellow.”

With her pressing concern answered, Nellie happily went back outside. It would be good to see her godfather again.

The afternoon was filled with gardening while the others were in class, a review of etiquette with a lesson on debate tactics, and watching the boys sparring on the lawn.

Arden went flying back as Brody blocked and countered with a pummel from his shield. Nellie joined Ava and Brody in a heavy wince. The spindly, brunette boy lay still on his back a moment before a weak chuckle shook his torso.

“Arden, you good,” Brody called. Brody visibly exhaled as Arden threw up a thumbs up. He turned his attention to Nellie. “Want a turn?”

Nellie and Ava exchange looks of varying levels of unsurness. A quick glance towards Arden, now sitting up, revealed a busted lip. Nellie had been reluctant to join in on the sparring despite it looking like fun, and this was not helping her reservations.

“Should I go,” Lilac asked, lying on her stomach and kicking her feet over her head. Her long hair spilled across the grass like a golden blanket.

Nellie climbed to her feet, dusted her pants, and took the wooden sword Calix hastily brought her. The other boys had all stopped when Arden was thrown, and continued to watch with anticipation when Brody extended his offer.

She adjusted her grip on the sword like how she was taught. It still felt bulky and unnatural.

“I won’t move,” Brody said, raising his circular shield. “Give that a whack.”

“Me next,” Fin said, striking a battle stance next to Brody.

“Also me,” Calix chimed in.

Arch—tall and lean with a movie star smile—hung back, using an ornate walking stick to counter his weight, leaning back playfully. “I’ll sit this one out,” he said. His emerald eyes went to Ava. “Do you want some pointers while these barbarians smack each other?”

“Whose a barbarian,” Arden protested, his lip still oozing and now growing fat.

“Go on, Nellie, give me a hit,” Brody encouraged.

Her wooden sword thudded lamely against Brody’s shield. Her cheeks burned. She could not decide if she held back, or was weaker than she realized. Brody was fighting to keep from laughing.

“Now me,” Fin said, unfazed and elbowing Brody aside. “Right on the sword.”

She started to relax as she took turns hitting Brody and Fin (Arden was still nursing his busted lip, Calix went back to shooting targets, and Arch was now chatting with Lilac, Itzel, and Ava). They helped her improve her grip, and she found herself starting to smirk as they, slowly, swung back at her and she was able to dodge.

The bell rang out across the lawn to signal for them to come in. The sun had started to set leaving the sky with a blush. They hiked up to the house, sweating, dirty, and feeling accomplished.

“My goodness,” Mrs. Adams said, eyeing them disapprovingly. “You certainly used your free period well. Now, hurry and wash up. Dinner will be more formal tonight, so do be sure to… dress… appropriately.”

The back of Nellie's neck prickled in time with Mrs. Adams going ashen. She felt as if a low electrical current was creeping over her arms and running down her spine. It was magic. Unmistakably, but nothing at all like what she felt off Arch, Itzel, or even Amias.

Silas burst out of his office. His eyes widened, and he gave a quick, respectful nod of his head. “R-Regere, welcome.”

Nellie was vaguely aware she was now the only person that had not turned around. She drew in a breath, clenched her fists, and turned.

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

I'm going to need to reorder so much of this. But, yes, predictions with Ava maybe having something up was correct. With her magic being the unusual nature based stuff, she doesn't trigger creatures like Amias did. You can think of her (eventual) ability as that one lady that can get anything to grow no matter the climate or time of year. Since her magic is more natural, it is connected more with how her body works which is why Mrs. Adams mentions her age. Ava won't be able to do anything until she hits puberty, lol.

Penny isn't at the compound. She keeps Hodge there if she's away somewhere where taking him would be too much of a hassle or impossible. (In this case, she's overseas for a bit.)

And now the newbies! Arden (13) doesn't have a surname right now since I didn't need one yet. Calix Dimopoulos (17) is a Greek boy with family in the Auctorita. Serafin "Fin" Cabrera (15) is an American from one of the southern states, his father is a Knight with the Order of Ferblanc. Brody Jones (16) is either American from up north, or possibly he's only half American with the other being either UK or Australia. He's got connections through the Auctorita. Lilac Maebry (16) is one of those that was stumbled upon. Not sure her exact origins, probably American. Archibald "Arch" Willoughby (17) is from the UK with connections through the Order of Ferblanc. Itzel de la Torre (14) is from Brazil and has connection through the Keepers.

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December 19, 2025
P.Track.17

Nellie’s eye shot open in time with the feeling that she just fell back into her body. She stared at her black ceiling, tensing at the harsh buzzing rattled from her nightstand. She blinked, her head fuzzy with whatever dream she had been having slipping away. She answered her phone.

“Hello,” she mumbled, sinking back onto her pillow.

Oh, good, you’re awake,’ came Morgan’s voice.

She internally admonished herself for forgetting to silence her phone. She squinted through her bright screen seeing it was just after 4AM.

I heard my father is planning a visit,’ Morgan said.

“Visit?” Nellie yawned. “What visit?”

Are you really awake,’ Morgan asked, annoyed.

“No,” Nellie said.

My father,’ Morgan said slowly and with annoyance, ‘the Regere, is planning a visit to you in Tennessee. It sounds like he wants to bring you here to live. Oh, I got to go! My mother is coming!

The line went dead.

---

There was no way to confirm what Morgan said. He had been grounded for running off to America, and whenever Nellie texted or called, his mother would answer to remind her that he had another month on his sentence. Evora would ask a follow up, typically how school was or how she was doing, but never continued the conversation beyond that no matter how badly Nellie sensed she wanted to.

The first week after Spring Break dragged by in a bundle of nerves. Nellie jumped at everything, expecting her uncle to suddenly appear. It was unhelpful that she had no idea what he looked like, and kept picturing Grandfather Agarwal with blazing red eyes.

By the second week after Spring Break, Nellie’s nerves calmed. She had been mostly asleep during Morgan’s call. She could have misheard. She would have thought she dreamed the whole thing if it was not for the call log on her phone.

Good morning, students,’ Ms. Pelham’s voice came over the loud speaker. ‘We have a special guest this week. Mr. Javernick is here from the state to conduct an assessment. He’ll meet with every single one of you to ask about your time at school. Please, speak honestly and let him know how much you enjoy your time here. First homeroom up will be Mr. Hardin’s.

Emma and Sophia leaned into each other up ahead to whisper about this development. Nellie hurried over as soon as the bell rang to join in.

“Has this happened before,” Nellie asked.

“Not since we started,” Sophia said. “It does happen. It’s, like, an audit or something for real.”

“OMG, if we listen to the principal and talk this place up, then we might get a pizza party or something,” Emma said happily. “And, like, real pizza. Not school pizza.”

They split off to their classes. Nellie perked up as the next homeroom was called, watching her class lose five students to the call. Two entered, muttering to each other. They were smiling and appeared at ease.

She waited all day for her homeroom to be called, but it never came. Olivia had her homeroom called at the end of the day, but being near the end in the alphabet, she was not able to fill them in until their morning locker gathering.

“He’s so nice,” Olivia said, tossing her curls off her shoulder. “Like your favorite, old uncle. I was so nervous, but that went away so fast!”

“What’d he ask about,” Ava asked.

“Nothing important,” Olivia said, shrugging. “Asked if I liked my teachers. Wanted to know if I thought classes were boring or not.”

“I wonder what he’s looking for,” Nellie mused.

“Um, I just told you,” Olivia said, rolling her eyes.

Nellie clenched her jaw and did not respond. Olivia could be right; this could simply be an audit of the school, but it was not sitting right with her. She tuned out the rest of Olivia’s dramatic retelling of her boring fifteen minute interview, pulling out her phone to silence it. She found a message from Ira.

I’m so sorry I went quiet. Penny told me you met.

That was all. After weeks of silence.

The bell for homeroom sounded. Nellie trailed after Sophia and Emma with her thumbs hovering over her keyboard. She was forced to pocket it without answering as Miss Campbell shot her a glare.

Her homeroom still had not been called by lunch. She took her usual seat and looked around for the others, spotting Emma and Olivia instantly.

“We still haven’t been called,” Nellie said offhandedly.

“OMG, Perenelle, don’t worry so much,” Emma said. “Olivia said he was nice.” She looked at Olivia for her validation. “Right?”

“Right,” Olivia said.

Sophia joined them with a heavy sigh. “We still haven’t been called yet,” she lamented.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Olivia said sympathetically. “He really is nice. I’m sure your class is next.”

“Yeah,” Emma chirped. “It’ll be over with before you know it.”

Nellie turned so they would not catch her rolling her eyes. She looked around for Ava, frowning.

“Hey,” came Mason’s voice from behind her. He stood at the other end of the table with his tray. His casual expression began to turn uncomfortable as the girls whispered and snickered and prodded each other.

Nellie gave the three of them a few seconds, and then answered, “Hi.” It was a mistake. She felt the daggers on her back.

“Our homeroom was called right before lunch,” Mason said, focusing on Nellie. “Ava went in right before the bell.”

“Oh, cool, thanks,” Nellie said.

“Emma was supposed to talk to him,” Olivia said bluntly the moment Mason walked off. She glared. “Oh, you like him, don’t you? That’s so low, Perenelle, I swear.”

She opened her mouth to protest but failed under the hurt gaze of Emma. Olivia looked mildly smug while Sophia shook her head disapprovingly. Nellie mumbled she was trying to be polite and supported Emma’s endeavors, and picked at her food.

Ava dropped into her seat ten minutes later. She shoveled half her tray into her mouth to make up for the lost time.

“It’s so unfair you missed some of lunch,” Sophia said.

“He wants to meet my family,” Ava said. She drained her milk. “No one else in my homeroom has to have a home visit.” Her mouth twisted. “I can’t think what I said wrong….”

This new revelation hung over the rest of lunch. Nellie could not stop her nerves from twisting her stomach. Emma and Sophia went from being fair-skinned to downright pale.

Nellie took her seat next to Ava in art. She waited for their teacher to pass on her turn around the room. She leaned nearer to the table, pretending to focus on some details.

“Psst, Ava,” Nellie hissed. “Were the questions different?” Ava shook her head. “Did your parents come up?” Ava shook her head again.

The intercom crackled. ‘Miss Campbell’s homeroom, please make your way to the principal’s office,’ Ms. Pelham instructed.

Her legs were lead as she dragged herself from the room and down the hall. Emma and Sophia were already waiting. She held back from joining them.

“Perenelle Herle,” the receptionist called.

One of the boys pretended to barf as she passed by.

The interview was taking place in the lounge. The old, white fridge made a sick rattling. The smell of burnt coffee permeated the area. One of the fluorescents above hummed and subtly flickered.

A short, stout man sat in the only overstuffed chair available. He had crow’s feet around his twinkling blue eyes that deepened as he gave Nellie an easy, welcoming smile. His tan hair was heavily streaked with gray, but it was difficult to say exactly how old he was. Nellie guessed he was at least in his fifties.

“Hello, Perenelle,” he said, his voice raspy and deep. He gestured to the worn loveseat. “Says in your folder that you started here recently. January?”

“Yeah,” Nellie said, sitting on the very edge of the loveseat with her fingers tucked under her thighs. “I lived in Florida before now.”

“Ah, the Sunshine State.” He leaned back in his chair. “Are you nervous, Perenelle?”

“A little.”

He smiled warmly and set his notepad aside. “Do you go by Perenelle, or are you more comfortable with something else?” He laughed lightly at her shrug. “My name is Silas. You can call me that or Mr. Javernick. Whichever is more comfortable for you.”

“My friend told me you were visiting her house,” Nellie said. “Why her?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say, but it isn’t anything worrying,” Silas said. “She’s not in trouble.”

Nellie nodded, feeling a wave of relief. She would have to text Ava later.

The next five minutes was a back and forth on how Nellie liked the school—she did not—and how she found her classes—slow and boring.

“Hmm,” Silas hummed, looking at his notes. “Sounds like you aren't being efficiently challenged.” He tapped his pen against his notepad, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Let’s change topics a minute… Says in your folder you’re a single parent home.”

“Surely I’m not the only kid you’ve met with just one parent,” Nellie said. She went on edge. Silas was visibly uneasy, keeping his focus on his notes.

He took a deep breath and set his notes off to the side. “Your uncle sent me.”

She shot to her feet.

“Perenelle, please, sit,” Silas urged.

“The Regere sent you to spy on me,” Nellie snapped.

“I volunteered,” Silas said. “Penny told me about meeting you.”

“Penny works with the Auctorita! But-but… she didn’t know Morgan. She was so… flippant about the Regere.” She backed towards the door. “It was a trick. Why?”

“Penny doesn’t work for the Auctorita,” Silas said. “I’d like her to, but she won’t. Perenelle, please, calm down. Our time is nearly over. Let me say my piece.”

Nellie glanced to the door. It would be simple to sprint out, screaming. Screaming what, she had no idea. It could just land her in detention. She eased back to the loveseat, sitting on the edge as before.

“Your father and I were acquaintances a decade before he met your mother,” Silas said. “I recommended him as Commander when the Auctorita was formed. That’s why I offered to meet you in your uncle’s stead.”

“I was told he ran off and doesn’t want the Regere near me,” Nellie said.

“Rhys blamed the Regere–.”

“For my mother turning into a dragon,” Nellie finished. “Got it.” She propped her foot up on her knee. “And, what?”

Silas chuckled, shaking his head. “Our time is up,” he said. “I’m going to schedule a home visit, which I’m sure you saw coming. It’s high time I spoke with Nathalie.”

---

Ash bounced after a pair of robins with no intent of catching them. The sun was too low to light the clearing where the house sat. Nellie had been sitting on the steps since telling Nathalie about her meeting with Silas Javernick, staying out of the way as Nathalie rushed to clean the living room and kitchen. She stayed outside even after Silas arrived, straining to listen through the doors but also not wanting to hear anything.

Nellie hugged her knees. She could not imagine what they were talking about for this long. Silas would make a plea for the Regere to see her, Nathalie would shut it down, and that was that.

Ash jumped, poofed, and rematerialized on top of Silas’s boxy car.

“Ash, no,” Nellie said, trying not to laugh. “You’ll scratch it.”

She leapt up as the front door opened behind her. Nathalie frowned at Ash.

“Mr. Javernick wants to speak to both of us now,” Nathalie said. She pointed at Ash. “Beast, get off that car!”

“Ash, down,” Nellie urged.

The smoke wolf stared at them for a long pause. He jumped off more with the air of being bored than obeying.

Silas smiled warmly at her as she shuffled into the house. He moved an inch to give Nathalie extra room as she sat on the couch. They both stared at Nellie. She squirmed.

“Mr. Javernick has informed me that he works for your uncle,” Nathalie said stiffly. “And, that he’s friends with my brother.”

“Friend is a bit strong,” Silas said.

“We talked about this already,” Nellie said warily.

“May I,” Silas asked. He shimmied forward on the couch at Nathalie’s nod. “Nathalie confirmed for me what your uncle, what all of us, suspected; creatures–crypitds–are drawn to you. You sense magic, as Amias related.”

“Which are also things I already know,” Nellie said carefully. “Is something wrong?”

“Nellie,” Nathalie said, a pained expression etched on her face, “you found a dragon. That’s unusual and dangerous even for people like Mr. Baig and Mr. Javernick.” She took on a grayish tint. “Mr. Javernick says that this uncle of yours wants you to stay with him over the summer. Learn how to protect yourself.”

It took a moment for her to wrap her head around what Nathalie was telling her. She crossed her arms tightly, stepping back.

“You’re sending me to him,” Nellie said. “After months of ‘he’s dangerous’ and ‘keep away’.”

“You won’t be with the Regere, per se,” Silas said. He grinned in a way that reminded Nellie of Santa Claus. “I’ve been given the role of babysitter. You’ll be at my compound with Penny and a few other youngsters. I know Master Morgan is begging Evora to come.”

“You’re okay sending me off somewhere for months with some… guy,” Nellie asked, glaring at Nathalie.

“Of course not, Perenelle, but something must be done,” Natahlie said. “That uncle of yours does have a point; finding dragons and other creatures is dangerous. What would’ve happened had Mr. Baig not been there?”

“Or Penny,” Silas added. “Hard to say if she’s downplaying or Amias is exaggerating….”

“Amias and Penny didn’t know each other,” Nellie said, feeling irritated.

“They didn’t until then, and still don’t talk,” Silas said. He looked guiltily at his knitted fingers. “Penny’s mother was a great friend of mine.” He glanced up. “And of your father’s.”

“Penny knew my father?”

“No…” Silas trailed off. “Only Keena did.” He cleared his throat. “Back to topic… My compound is where Penny trained. Prince Ira has spent time there too.”

She knew that name. She could not think how she knew it, but there was something too familiar about it despite the name being unusual. She hurried to her room, grabbed her box of Rhys’s letters, and sat in front of the coffee table facing them.

“Fox?” She shuffled through more of her father’s early letters. “Is that Keena? I swear, I read the name somewhere… I keep seeing mentions of Fox though...”

“Keena Fox,” Silas said. “Your dad always called her Fox. At least that I know of. I thought that was a British thing.”

“For blokes, it’s not uncommon,” Nathalie said. “Rhys defaulted to it. Kept him friendly while keeping up those walls he had.”

Nellie grabbed random words and phrases and she went through the letters. It was more to stop from looking at Nathalie and Silas at this point. She was unsure if she wanted to spend her summer at some compound, but could not deny it was exciting.

That dragon was dangerous. That was undeniable. She shuttered as she remembered how it stared at her, remembered the rank smell of its breath. It would be a smart move to learn how to effectively get away from such a creature, as Penny had.

She gulped, sitting straighter as it dawned on her; she was going to try again. She would go searching for dragons again.

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

I was greeted with the news that my nieces don't have school today, so I guess that's it for a comment.

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December 14, 2025
P.Track.16

Nellie bolted into Nathalie’s wide arms. She squeezed her tight, feeling too safe and warm to pay any heed to Nathalie’s angry, hysterical scolding. She deserved it anyhow.

“How’re you holding up, Mr. Mage,” the young woman asked, unceremoniously half-dropping Amias on the path. “Did that dragon ooze on you?”

“I-I–?”

She grabbed Amias roughly by the shoulders, twisting him here and there like he was a present she was inspecting. She abruptly dropped to a knee, grabbing his leg with force enough he had to grab Nathalie, who in turn grabbed Nellie, to stop from falling over.

“Looks like it got your leg,” she said. She pushed it away as if disgusted. “Luckliy, you were fighting in the stream or you would’ve lost it by now.” She shrugged. “Or died. Maybe both.”

Morgan was staring at this young woman—though Nellie was starting to wonder if she was old enough for the descriptor—with rapt attention. “Who are you,” he asked incredulously.

“Your salvation,” she said snarkily. “Well, come on. You can collect yourselves at my room.”

It was embarrassing to discover that they had been circling between the Gap Cave and the Skylight Cave. It took an hour of stumbling through the dark woods before they saw the welcoming twinkling of Cumberland Gap. The town had a sleepiness to it even though it could not be later than 6PM.

Nellie dragged herself after the young woman, trying to close the distance to question her or thank her. But, she was too tired to keep pace with her brisk strides across the Iron Furnace parking lot.

“Our car–,” Nathalie started weakly, not able to put fight into it.

“Your magic man needs food. You’ll have something to eat first.”

“And I have questions,” Nellie said.

“Of course you do.” She quickened to a trot. “Hurry up. I’m going to feel bad asking for extra if they’ve already made dinner.”

They arrived at a building, or two buildings, that were very old. The smaller was a log construction that was as tall as Nellie’s and Nathalie’s single-story house, except the presence of upper windows let it be known it was two-story. The metal roof butted up against the other building at the halfway divide. This building was truly two-story and old, but not nearly as ancient. The siding was also wood, but not exposed logs. There was a gentle eek-fup, eek-fup, and a gurgling that indicated a water wheel nearby.

“The bed and breakfast,” Morgan whispered to Nellie. “I’ll have pancakes yet.”

Nellie was first in behind their mysterious rescuer. She shuffled awkwardly to make room for the other, feeling very much like she entered a stranger’s house without permission. She was distracted away from looking over the decor by a woman older than Nathalie bustling over to meet them.

“I found lost hikers,” the young woman explained. “Think they could eat something before I take them to their car?”

“Pancakes,” Morgan chimed.

“That shouldn’t be much trouble,” the old woman said, eyeing them.

“Thanks; I’ll bring them to my room for now.”

The four of them–prompting in Morgan’s case–muttered their thanks to the woman as they passed.

The room had a clear theme: sunflowers. The bedspread was bright yellow to match the large painting of a sunflower field that hung over the bed. There was a sunflower embroidered pillow on a blue, wing-backed chair. A sunflower footstool nearby.

Their rescuer was young, easily being college-aged like Ira. She had brunette hair that brushed the tops of her shoulder, and wore half braided back to keep it from her face (presumably not fully braided to keep her neck warm). She struggled to unlace heavy leather boots that went up her calves, kicking them off next to the footstool before dropping in the blue chair. Her striking green eyes went to each of them before settling on Nellie.

“Go ahead.”

“Um… I don’t–?”

“Questions. Ask them. Pancakes don’t take long.”

Nellie’s cheeks tinted. She could feel everyone staring. She fidgeted with her jacket zipper.

“I’ll give it a start,” Amias said. “Thank you, young lady, for swooping in when you did.”

“Heard her screaming bloody murder,” she said, pointing flippantly at Nathalie. “Thought maybe a bear was being naughty. Then he,” she pointed to Morgan, “started yelling about dragons.” She snickered. “Then the calls for Ira.” She set her gaze on Nellie again. “Are you Nellie?”

“Y-yes,” Nellie stammered. “How–?”

“How many people know Ira and get caught up with dragons?”

“You’re… Penny,” Nellie said carefully.

“I am.”

“Ira’s girlfriend,” Nathalie said, unsurely.

Penny’s face darkened. “Is that what he’s saying,” she growled. “I’ll murder him!”

A knock at the door interrupted them. Penny shot up, put her hand on her belt–which was full of small pouches and sleeves that suspiciously looked to house knives–and opened the door a crack. Then wider to show the rest of the room to the old woman.

“Pancakes are on the table,” she said, craning to see where each person was in the cozy room.

“Thanks,” Penny said. “I’ll bring them down shortly.”

She dropped next to the bed, lying on her stomach.

“Forgive me, young lady,” Amias said, watching her with bemusement. “How is it that you are… acquainted with his highness? You sound American.”

“I am American,” Penny said, straightened with a pair of slippers in her hand. She pointed a slipper at Nellie. “So’s she, and I don’t hear you questioning her.”

“Am I American,” Morgan mused.

“Seems like you’re outnumbered, Mr. Mage. And we have home field advantage.” She jumped to her slippered feet. “Let’s get you fed and out of here.”

Nellie trotted after Penny with Morgan elbowing her to give him the lead. She could tell her pants were not regular jeans. They looked too heavy, the color too dark. She swayed slightly trying to see if they had tinplate woven in like Ira’s coat, but failed to see any metallic sheen. Her drab colored shirt had none that she saw, but it did have defined wrinkles on the otherwise loose sleeves as if they were normally bound in long gloves or braces.

“Should we call the Order of Ferblanc about the dragon,” Nellie asked in a low tone.

“Those snobs? Oh, right, you’ve met Ira,” Penny said, visibly rolling her eyes. “That’s not really their job. They're more around to keep people like him,” she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder at Amias, “in check if they go nuts on the population. More than happy to jump to if Ira calls though.”

“I don’t have a number for the Keepers….”

“They’re like that,” Penny said. “There’s a Conservatory not far. I can check in with them sometime tomorrow afternoon. I should be able to keep her in check until then.”

Penny led them to a long dining table. Plates set with pancakes were upon it. There was a jug of milk, a jug of ice water, and a small jug of syrup. Bowls with strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, and sugar sat in the middle of the four plates next to two cans of whipped cream.

Morgan hastily took the nearest seat and started heaping butter, fruits, syrup, and cream onto his pancakes. Nellie sat next to him, crinkling her nose at his efforts to get the large bites into his mouth. She chose to eat the fruit on the side like Nathalie and Amias, but helped herself to the whipped cream.

“Pardon for bringing this up,” Amias said, speaking quietly as the old woman walked the edges of the room. “You seem under the impression you can handle this… animal.”

“And you seem unable to grasp that you’re alive because I can,” Penny said loftily. She plopped a strawberry into her mouth. “I can’t take her down alone. I’m not stupid. But, I can’t irritate her enough to get her to back off.”

“Her,” Nathalie asked tentatively, as if not sure she really wanted to know.

“Ira and me figured all dragons are female,” Penny said, nonchalant. She waved dismissively. “Just our running theory seeing as our mothers both turned.”

“Yours too!” Nellie shrunk as the old woman whipped her head towards them. “Sorry,” she added, lowering her voice. “Yours too?”

“And yours, from what Ira told me.”

Amias narrowed her eyes at Penny. “Three women all curse, for lack of understanding. I was unaware there were so many.”

“Who’s your mother,” Morgan asked. He searched his syrup puddle for soggy chunks he missed. “Does she work for my father too?”

“Who is…?”

Morgan straightened as if smacked. “You don’t know my father,” he asked. He bristled. “The Regere of the Auctorita.”

“Oh, him,” Penny said. “No, she’s got nothing to do with him. She was more… freelance, I guess you could call it. Wait, shh.” She straightened, smiling a wide, forced smile. “Hey.”

“Good evening, Miss Penny,” a young man greeted enthusiastically. A pretty, young lady with a blonde bob hung on his arm. “The missus was hoping we could get that picture with Hodge tomorrow morning.”

“You said this morning he was too tired and to ask later,” his wife piped up. “If he’s up for it….”

“Oh, sure,” Penny said with forced politeness. “I was going to shoot some tomorrow, so he’ll be all done up.”

“Can–can he wear some flowers,” the wife asked hopefully. “I have my second bouquet still from our solo pictures.”

“Sure,” Penny said, her smile starting to look uncomfortable. “I can add them last. You can help.”

“Oh my goodness, really! Thank you so much! I’m such a huge fan! He’s so, so, magical, and whimsical, and–.”

“Okay, honey, let’s leave Miss Penny to her company,” the husband said. He smiled happily. “Thanks so much. You’ve made our honeymoon extra special.”

Nellie felt compelled to wave as the newlyweds retreated towards the stairs. She rounded on Penny, leaning over the table and keeping her eyes watching for further interruptions. “Hodge?”

“My unicorn,” Penny said, not bothering to say it quietly.

Nellie’s jaw dropped. “U-unicorn?”

Penny pulled out her phone. She tapped and swiped, and held it up for Nellie (and Morgan, leaning in) to see.

The Instagram was full of tiles featuring a gorgeous white stallion with a long, white mane and shimmering, golden dapples. In the center of his forehead, splitting his forelock, was a long, spiral horn that started black and ended red at the tip. He had large, expressive brown eyes that looked far more intelligent than those of a regular horse.

She tapped one of the photos. This one had Hodge laying with his cloven feet curled into his body. His lion-like tail was tied with a red ribbon to match the ribbons braided into his mane. His small goatee had a little curl styled on the end. Roses were strewn about and a graphic stamped on the picture wished people a Happy St. Valentine’s Day.

“This was one of my favorites,” Penny said fondly. “He’s so handsome in red.”

“It really is a unicorn,” Nathalie said weakly, glancing over.

“You post this creature online,” Amias asked, his brows furrowed.

“Why not,” Penny asked, clicking her phone off. “It’s not like people think he’s a real unicorn. He makes bank on social media. All I need to do is keep my photography skills up, and we’re set.”

The old woman inched away from her wall, approaching with a kind smile and opportunistic eyes. “It’s rather late,” she said. “We do have rooms available.”

“We really can’t,” Nathalie said before either Morgan or Nellie could speak. “The pancakes were very good. I’ll gladly pay for the lot.”

“Put it on my room,” Penny said. She stood. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

Nellie felt overwhelm rise in her chest as everyone climbed to their feet. There were far too many things to ask Penny, or just to simply talk over. It was clear that Nathalie would not budge on leaving that moment, and Amias would very well back her up with how they have come to some sort of understanding. She hurried after Penny, away from the proprietor and the spare other guests coming to sit in the comfortable chairs scattered about.

“Wait,” Nellie pleaded.

“Yes, you can meet Hodge,” Penny said.

“Cool, but I wanted to ask about,” Nellie lowered her voice, “Ira. Is he okay? Is he here?”

“His daddy has him working,” Penny said with a bite. “He keeps his phone off when that happens.”

There was a small park across from the bed and breakfast, with a single line of parking off the street. There was only one vehicle present; an old, red pickup truck with a shiny, new horse trailer attached to the hitch. It was not a large trailer or large truck, but the combination took up nearly half of the parking spaces.

Hodge was more beautiful in person despite being half-asleep in a dark trailer. The weak streetlight that managed to penetrate the trailer caught his dappled fur, making him look like he sparkled with golden moonlit.

He raised his head, his eyes fluttering. He snorted angrily and threw his weight against the trailer.

“Ssh, Hodge,” Penny cooed. “I’ll get rid of them.” She waved a hand at Amias and Morgan. “Give him more space. He dislikes men.” She looked at Nathalie. “And… if you could step away a bit too. He won’t be outright aggressive, but the whole maiden thing with unicorns is very real.”

Nellie hesitated as they arrived at the Crown Victoria. Ira was accounted for, in an unsatisfactory way. That was the main reason she wanted to find the Cumberland dragon, finding the dragon was a bonus. If such a terrifying event could be called that. She accomplished what she meant, and even got to see a real unicorn. Even still, she could not open the door.

“Nellie,” Penny said, starting her back to attention. She handed her phone over. “Put your number in. We’re keeping in touch.”

---

Nellie thought that once Amias took Morgan back, that life would slip back to the doldrum as it had after Ira left. That was far from the case.

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

The lore with the Cumberland dragon is that it oozes this blood red junk that'll kill you if you don't submerge it in water. Apparently, the native tribes retold that bit of info to the calverymen that found the dragon. The dragon is also called 'goosefoot' because of the tracks (I forgot to say that in the 15th chapter).

Penny intro! Ira, Penny, and Morgan were the characters most needed to be infroduced in this, and now they all are. I liked the idea of Penny posting Hodge all over Instagram while everyone else in the Realm is all 'we should keep things hush-hush because panic'.

I couldn't fit it because of the clunkiness, but since Hodge is hostile to men, disgruntled by boys, and wary of non-virgin females, then his whole photoshoot with that bride is problematic. And when the photoshoot is problematic and Penny can't detter the fan any longer, then she says something about him being skittish/tempermental, and holds a halter on him to keep him more calm. Which is how she's recognized because she's in way more of Hodge's pictures than she would like.

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