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.
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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.
