Nellie found herself back at Silas’s compound the following afternoon. Arch excused himself right away to go rest, leaving the others to pester her and Calix for the gritty details. Calix was more than happy to tell everyone about the snallygaster and the praise he received from the Regere. Nellie took it as a chance to sneak off to the stables.

Hodge was snoozing on his cloven feet. The sunlight from his slotted window caught his dapples causing golden shimmers on his haunches. He started shifting and bobbing his head, his nostrils flaring.

Morgan leaned up against the door, keeping his distance to not disturb Hodge further.

“So, how was it really?”

“He used me as bait,” Nellie said coolly.

Morgan looked unsurprised and shrugged. “I may’ve told him about Ash…. Or, my mother did. Or Amias…. Someone did.”

“What’s Ash have to do with anything,” Nellie asked defensively.

“You can’t think having a pet cryptid is normal,” Morgan said. His hazel eyes darted to Hodge. “Penny’s odd too.”

It never occurred to her that she was still the odd one. She could not wield fire or create gollums. She had not spent her childhood learning to swing a sword or make arrows. She assumed everyone had run-ins with creatures, and that some of them had nontraditional pets even if only for a few days.

She paled. “Did you tell him about Cecily,” she asked urgently. “Does he know Ira has a gryphon?”

“I’d be shocked if he didn’t,” Morgan said. “His highness may’ve been some random twenty-something to you, but for all of us familiar with the Realm we’ve been aware of the small details of his life.”

Hodge let loose an irate bray that nearly had Nellie jump out of her skin.

Brody ran by Morgan, skidding to a halt on the loose straw. His dark eyes were wide and he was panting to catch his breath.

“There you are,” he said. He gulped at the air. “S-sorry, Hodge. Nellie, you’ve got to get back to the house.”

Nellie tore off after Brody with Morgan on her heels. The patio at the top of the hill was crowded with people. It looked like all the kids were outside, and Nellie could make out the short, stout figure of Mrs. Adams standing before them with her cane glittering in the summer light. She was facing down a man that Nellie recognized almost immediately as Uncle Winston.

“Uncle Winston,” Nellie called out, quickening her pace. She collided into him, squeezing him tightly. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“You know this man, Miss Herle,” Mrs. Adams asked stiffly.

“She’s my niece, as previously stated” Uncle Winston said, putting a protective hand on Nellie’s shoulder.

Silas hurried from the glass door onto the patio with Lilac hovering by his shoulder. The excited light dimmed in her eyes when they spotted Nellie, and boredom slowly crept onto her face as Silas motioned for calm.

“Mr. Herle, I presume," Silas said in his soothing, rich voice. “I take it Nathalie gave you the address.” He gestured towards the door. “Should we go inside?”

“That’ll be quite all right,” Uncle Winston said. “I’ll be taking Perenelle home now.”

“What? No,” Nellie protested, ducking out from his grip. “I don’t want to leave.”

The kids were all leaning forward in anticipation. The excitement returned to Lilac’s eyes. Fin and Brody whispered to each other.

“Mrs. Adams,” Silas muttered at her.

“Inside, children,” Mrs. Adams ordered.

Ava gave Nellie an encouraging smile as she filed inside behind Arden.

“I’m staying,” Morgan said defiantly, crossing his arms.

The look on Uncle Winston’s face clearly indicated that he remembered Morgan and that he was not thrilled to see him again. She had seen him make the same face whenever her cousin Lillian talked about boys (prior to the one she was now engaged to).

“Master Morgan–,” Silas pleaded.

“I’m staying.” Morgan dropped on one of the plush, sky blue patio chairs.

Nellie strode over and took the seat next to him. She crossed her legs and folded her arms, hoping it came across as defiant and not plain bratty.

“Very well; it matters absolutely not if you’re here or not,” Uncle Winston said. “Perenelle is going home. End of discussion.”

She tensed at the authority in Uncle Winston’s tone. She was ready to scramble up to her room and pack.

“I don’t even know what this is–?”

“What this is all about, Mr. Javernick, is that my little sister called me in a state saying that… that man has caused her physical harm,” Uncle Winston said icily. He glared down at Silas being easily a head and a half taller. “You assured her, no, promised her that him appearing here would be of no concern. You swore to her that Perenelle going off with him was in her very best interest, and that she couldn’t be any safer. Is all that correct?”

Morgan had also lost his bravado as Uncle Winston went on. He slouched in his chair like trying to fuse with it.

“Nellie,” Silas said, turning towards her, “where you hurt?”

“The snallygaster nicked me, but Mrs. Monroe healed–.”

“Mr. Javernick,” Uncle Winston interrupted, fuming, “you dare tell me you were not informed? Are you trying to pin blame on a mere girl?”

“Uncle Winston! That’s unfair,” Nellie said. “I just got here.”

“Do telephones not exist?”

There would be no talking to Uncle Winston. He was in full lawyer mode. Nellie thought Silas was handling it very well; he was only a fraction paler than usual.

The unmistakable pressure of the Regere approaching caused her to climb to her feet. He appeared in the glass door before opening it and joining them.

He had changed clothes. He wore a relaxed, European suit without a tie and blazer. The beechwood loafers he held were so polished they hurt Nellie’s eyes to look at them.

“I’ll be off,” the Regere said. He set his pale blue eyes on Uncle Winston. “Mr. Herle, please, walk with me.”

“I beg your pardon, young man,” Uncle Winston said, taken aback.

“Oh, that’s right,” the Regere said with a small, fake laugh. “We haven’t met before, have we? No, my wife acted as proxy during the guardianship hearings.”

The color drained from Uncle Winston. “Y-you’re–!” He stiffened, swallowing whatever unpleasent thing it was he wished to say. “You are not at all how I expected.”

“Younger, by the ‘young man’ comment,” the Regere said. He gestured off the patio. “Would you?”

“I will not,” Uncle Winston said. “We English can beat around it all day, but let me just cut to it and say that my brother made his wishes perfectly clear, and it was foolish of Nathalie to bend those wishes.”

“I’m technically American despite my slight accent, so,” the Regere said, “let me be blunt; Perenelle isn’t going anywhere.”

Uncle Winston went from being too pale to too red. His fists shook as he bared his teeth in fury. It was the angriest Nellie had ever seen him, and it made her shake in her seat.

“Let me clarify a bit,” the Regere said, glancing at a shiny watch on his wrist. “Our niece,” he stressed, “needs to learn how to handle herself. I’ll trust Silas to clear things up from there.” He headed off the porch and towards the driveway. “Morgan, behave.”

Silas pinched his eyes with a heavy sigh as the Regere disappeared around the corner. He took a few breaths, straighted, and smiled warmly at Uncle Winston.

“Mr. Herle, a cup of tea,” Silas offered. “We can conference Nathalie in my office.”

Uncle Winston eyed Silas but ultimately relented and allowed himself to be ushered indoors. Nellie saw Silas pull Calix and Arch from the kids scattering to hide they had attempted eavesdropping; the four of them vanishing down the windowed hall towards Silas’s office.

Fin, Lilac, and Ava slipped out the doors onto the patio.

“Was that tall, dark, and handsome man your uncle,” Lilac asked, looking wistfully over her shoulder at the house. “Does he have a son?”

“Are you really leaving,” Ava asked anxiously.

“She’s not,” Morgan said.

“You seem sure,” Fin said doubtfully.

“My father said she wasn’t leaving, so she’s not,” Morgan said coolly. He looked Fin up and down. “Ah, right, you’re the not-so-secret love child. You don’t have a firm grasp on a father’s word.”

Fin exploded at Morgan, lunging and grabbing him by his shirt. Nellie and Ava jumped away with their eyes wide at the sudden movement. Lilac tried to intervene, was knocked away, and let loose a long, shrill hiss.

Nellie coughed as the patio was engulfed with green smoke. Her eyes stung, watering to the point she could not see. She stumbled, fell over a chair, and crawled. She felt grass beneath her fingers and rolled down the gentle slope, away from the cloud of smoke. She breathed in the fresh air and dabbed at her streaming eyes.

Ava staggered over with her hands over her nose and mouth. Her eyes were bloodshot behind her glasses.

“Wuh-what was that,” Nellie croaked.

“Lilac.” Ava removed her glasses to wipe her eyes. “She set off a grenade.”

“Gre-grenade?”

“What on this earth is happening out here,” Mrs. Adams’s voice came angrily from among the dispersing cloud. “Miss Maebry, to my office at once!”

The cloud had now dissipated enough to see Lilac, Fin, and Morgan. Morgan had tripped on a chair and was draped over it, coughing with his eyes watering. Fin was scrambling up to defend Lilac who was nonchalantly following Mrs. Adams back inside on floaty steps.

“Morgan,” Nellie called, storming over as he and Fin eyeballed each other. “Knock it off!”

“Me? He attacked me,” Morgan said sulkily. “Yell at him!”

“You were rude,” Nellie said, crossing her arms.

Morgan was taken aback. “How?”

Fin pat Nellie on the shoulder, giving her a weak smile. “It’s okay, Nell,” he said. He glared at Morgan. “I’m going to go beg for Mrs. Adams to take it easy on Lilac.” He drew himself up, exhaling a long sigh. “Sorry I went off on you, little guy. Catch you girls later.”

Morgan had an expression like he drank vinegar. He glared daggers at Fin’s retreating form, his jaw too tight to spit anything at him.

Nellie decided to let him stew and headed off to the gardens with Ava. She filled her in on the snallygaster, but danced around the final conversation with the Regere and the tease that he knew where her father was. She was told not to let it be known her mother was a dragon, and saying her uncle used her as bait somehow seemed connected.

There was now the nagging worry in the back of her mind regarding the Regere’s interest in Penny, and assumedly in Ira too.

“Just how powerful is this Regere if he was unfazed by Arch’s magic,” Ava asked. “I thought my soul would leave my body the first time I saw one of his gollums.”

“Same,” Nellie said. She dug at a stubborn weed with her fingers to loose the roots. “The light cage was impressive, but Arch didn’t react to it like it was something super strong or difficult.” She rocked back as the weed gave. “Can you feel magic?”

“I don’t know…. What’s it feel like,” Ava asked.

“Like… static, I guess,” Nellie said. She rubbed her arm. “My godfather is a mage, and with him I could feel the hairs on my arm starting to stand. With Arch and Itzel, it’s just this little tingle on the back of my neck.”

“What about me,” Ava asked, excitedly. Her grin fell after an awkward pause. “Oh… you don’t feel anything, do you?”

“Your magic is different,” Nellie said quickly. “It’s better if you think about it. You can help with the jackalopes, and Hodge doesn’t mind you. I bet Ash would like you too. I can’t wait for you to meet him!”

Ava smiled weakly. She plucked white petals off of what Nellie recognized from boxed tea as chamomile.

“The problem with my magic is that it won't always be strong,” Ava murmured. “It’s inherited, not spontaneous. And like with other inherited traits, it can die out completely.” She took a breath and smiled. “Sorry. What about this Regere guy? What’s he feel like?”

“Like I stuck my finger in a socket and have a heavy, weighted blanket over my head,” Nellie said dully.

Ava mouthed ‘wow’ and her eyes sparkled behind her glasses at the idea of someone with that type of magic having been near. She snapped out of her awe and her eyes widened.

“And he’s your uncle,” Ava breathed.

Nellie shrugged it off as embarrassment crept over her. She had more or less told Ava about how the woman everyone called her mom was really her paternal aunt, and that she had only found out after starting school. She had no choice but to tell her about Morgan, and that led into being related to the leader of the Auctorita. She swore Ava to secrecy, making her promise not tell Olivia, Emma, and Sophia. It was too messy to start telling everyone else, and still made her head spin.

She was about to ask Ava if they did anything fun last night, but was distracted by Silas trudging over the slope towards them. He looked at ease with his thick arms swaying jauntily.

“Your uncle has decided to stay the night, and will make his decision afterwards,” Silas announced. He winked. “You’ll be staying the summer, Nellie. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure,” Nellie asked, feeling a fluttering of hope. “Uncle Winston can be quite stubborn.”

“I’m sure,” Silas said. “I believe a lot of his worries come from not understanding all this craziness with the Realm. He’ll feel better seeing you hanging out with other kids.”

It was hard to hope a night, essentially just a dinner, was all that stood in the way of her summer at the compound when dinners rarely went smoothly. Even on their best behavior, someone was bound to say something that would cause Uncle Winston to whisk her back to dull, dreary Shelbyville.

There was not much time before dinner, so Silas allowed Nellie and Ava to skip the evening chores. It was a kind gesture, but Nellie wished she could have hidden in the stables with Hodge until Mrs. Adams rung the bell. She found herself sitting cross-legged on her sleigh bed with Ava, both silent.

Nellie leapt up as the faint echo of the gong rang outside her door.

The dining room did not have the splendor it did when the Regere joined them. It was back to the usual plain plate and simple drinkware. There were two large platters piled with roasted chicken, and three bowls of seasoned root vegetables. A small green salad was set at every place.

“Miss Herle, I’m placing your uncle at the head,” Mrs. Adams said. “Why not sit next to him.”

“No need, Mrs. Adams,” Silas said, taking the seat at the right hand. “I’ll entertain Mr. Herle. Nellie can sit wherever she wants. They all can.”

Mrs. Adams narrowed her eyes at this. She gave a dismissive sniff and began her tour around the table to triple check everything was exact.

Silas motioned for Uncle Winston to sit next to him as the head of the table upon his entering the dining room. Lilac skipped off to take the seat across from Silas to Uncle Winston’s left.

Nellie found herself next to Silas with Ava to her other side. Fin and Arden took the seats across from them, both eager to be farther from Mrs. Adams’s grasp. Morgan frowned at Nellie, eyeing the full seats around her. He slunk to the end to sit at Mrs’s Adams’s right, sinking into a darker mood when Brody took the seat next to him and Calix and Arch filled the seats across, leaving Itzel to sit next to Fin.

“You have quite the array, Mr. Javernick,” Uncle Winston said, peering down the table.

“It happens,” Silas said. “The Auctorita is global now. The kids come from all over.” He nodded towards Itzel. “Brazil.” He gestured at Calix. “Greece. Of course, Nellie and Ava are just visiting. They’re not recruits.”

Uncle Winston’s blue eyes took each of the children in turn, lingering on Arden. His mouth tightened as he frowned into his salad.

“Recruitment starts quite young, does it? That boy can’t be any older than Nellie.”

“A year older, but, I agree, Arden is young,” Silas said. He dropped his voice and Nellie found herself leaning nearer. “His mother is an old friend. I offered to take him when he started acting out.” Silas cleared his throat, straightening. “I don’t exactly have a minimum age for residency. It’s whenever the kid needs to come.”

Nellie looked across at Arden but he was too busy sneakily tossing his cherry tomatoes into Fin’s half-eaten salad to have been eavesdropping. She never asked Arden why he was at Silas’s compound, assuming he was a recruit like the others. That sounded like the case, except it was more interesting that his parents just shipping him off.

She had not asked any of them why they were there, how they got there. She felt like she was playing catch up, and had not gotten very far in learning about her friends; if they could be called that.

Silas continued to politely answer whatever remarks Uncle Winston spoke, no matter if they were a proper question or an attempt at a jab. Her uncle was pausing between his comments to process the new information, and his hands relaxed a degree after each pause despite his mouth still twisted into a grimace.

Lilac interjected by asking Uncle Winston if he had a son, and then several follow-ups about Geoffrey. Uncle Winston slowly started to smile as the conversation went on, but kept his skeptical eye on them.

“Seems to be going good,” Ava whispered as Mrs. Adams circled the table with a cart, piling the salad bowls on it.

Fire erupted over Itzel’s plate in time with an aggravated shriek from her.

Uncle Winston fell over backwards in his hurry to stand and get away from the flames. Fin was yelling at Itzel in Spanish. Morgan was yelling at Fin that Itzel did not speak Spanish. Brody was helping Mrs. Adams up after knocking her and the cart over in his haste to the kitchen for water.

Arch grabbed Mrs. Adams’s cane and blew. The fire went out, and the plates, silverware, drinkware, and bits of food scattered down the table and around the room.

“Miss de la Torre! Mr. Cabrera!” Mrs. Adams shook lettuce off her arms. “My office, at once!”

“Come now, Mrs. Adams,” Silas said. “This was surely just a language–.”

“See to our guest,” Mrs. Adams said icily.

“No need,” Uncle Wiston said, dragging himself up.

Nellie cringed. The majority of dinner covered him leaving him to look like someone after a food fight scene from a movie. His light eyes blazed as hot as Itzel’s fire had.

“Perenelle, show me to a bathroom,” Uncle Winston demanded.

She felt everyone watching her as she slunk from the dining room. Her chest tightened as they moved further and further away from the dining room with no one coming after them to help argue her position. It was not fair she would have to leave because of something that happened between Itzel and Fin.

She sniffed heartily, stopping to wipe her eyes. She moved to hug Uncle Winston when he put his hand on her shoulder, recoiling as her hands found smashed carrots and dampness.

“Listen to me, sweetpea,” Uncle Winston said, stooping to her eyelevel. “I want you to think very hard before you answer me; why do you want to stay?”

“Because…,” she trailed off.

“Your friend goes to your school,” Uncle Winston said. “You’ll see her in a few weeks. These other kids… you only just met them. I can take you home. To Nathalie. To that dog of yours.”

“Would… I have to pretend none of this happened,” Nellie asked, her lip shaking.

Uncle Winston’s expression softened. He went to hug her, stopped himself, and scowled at his wet, gross appearance. He settled for patting her wavy, auburn hair.

“Nellie, lovey, you can stay,” he said quietly. He sighed. “This whole… strangeness is part of you. I won’t force you to ignore it.” He looked away. “Granddad and Nana always encouraged Rhys to ignore it…. It’d be great if he got over himself and paid a visit before they drop dead.”

Her mind jumped back to Maryland, to her conversation with the Regere. She grabbed Uncle Winston’s arm, shaking it as she rocked back and forth on her toes.

“Uncle Winston,” she said, “I might be able to find him!” She laughed at Uncle Winston's perturbed look. “I have a lead on Rhys.”

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

This has been sitting as a draft for a day, so everything I was going to put in the comment is gone, lol.

Nellie found herself crouched on the ground, covering her head with her arms. Her wooden sword sat in the mud next to her. The trees above her lurched, showering her with pine needles. She slowly uncovered her head, raising it to look up.

A pair of beady red eyes were fixed upon her. The snallygaster was the size of a ram with metallic green and brown scales that gave way to sharp feathers on the joints. It had a long, sharp beak and Nellie could see it lined with small razor-like teeth as it made a low hissing sound.

She flinched as Calix jumped over her. He shot at the snallygaster and slowly started moving away from Nellie, releasing a steady stream of arrows to keep the animal’s attention.

“Get it to the clearing,” Arch yelled from somewhere to Nellie’s left. She was pulled up. Arch brushed her off with his free hand, the other clutching a walking stick. “Did it get you?”

“N-no.”

“Then, take up your sword and get to the clearing,” Arch commanded. “Your job is to cover Calix, not the other way round.”

She scrambled to get her wooden sword as guilt squirmed in her stomach. She was dirty, but Calix and Arch had torn clothes, and she thought she saw a cut on Arch’s arm when he was dusting her off. She tore after him, able to catch up and slip by him being smaller and able to bypass the trees and branches easier.

She broke into the clearing.

“Nellie, down!”

She threw herself backwards as the snallygaster’s front talon sliced at her. The back followed, hooking her shoulder. She cried out, collapsing in the mud.

Calix was over her in an instant, shooting at the snallygaster as it circled above on large, leathery wings. He dove out of the way as it swooped.

“Nellie,” Calix yelled, now out of sight, “move!”

She winced as she scrambled away and up, grabbing her wooden sword on her way to her feet. She headed for the treeline with her swordless hand on her shoulder. Blood oozed over her fingers, but it was not an alarming amount.

“Nellie, down,” Calix called out.

She dropped and felt the slipstream from the snallygaster tear over her body as it passed.

“Catch me up,” Arch said, arriving.

“Snallygaster wants Nellie,” Calix said. “Catch her, and now ignore me.”

“Got it,” Arch said. “Both of you get to the trees.”

She was unceremoniously picked up and slung over Calix’s shoulder like a sack of flour. She jostled uncomfortably on his hard shoulder as he sprinted for the trees, throwing her onto his lap as he did a baseball slide into the brush to avoid the snallygaster’s talons, the monster whistling like a freight train in fury and frustration.

Nellie unwound herself from Calix’s long limbs and the underbrush, rolling over and crouching to see where Arch and the snallygaster were. She took a sharp breath as Calix touched her shoulder.

“Doesn’t look bad,” he murmured. “Need cleaning and plasters.”

Arch dashed into the middle of the clearing. He swung his stick at the snallygaster; the creature slamming into a mostly invisible shield as it tried swooping at him. He grunted and nearly lost his footing with the force of the animal on the shield, visibly panting when it landed and tried circling behind him.

“There you are,” Arch said, grinning maniacly. He slammed his stick down and the ground lurched.

Deep cracks formed from where he hit the ground; the dirt crumbling as the rocks wedged out. The rocks clustered together, building until they were a crude, wide human shape half a head shorter than Arch. The gollum launched into an attack against the snallygaster.

The gollum pounded the snallygaster with one of its club-like arms, knocking the animal into the ground with an angry, pained hiss. The gollum’s arm broke off and covered the creature, further angering it and causing it to thrash wildly to break free.

The snallygaster had a broken wing and a limp, but it clawed and snapped at the gollum unimpeded. It broke the gollum’s left leg off, clawing its way up and over the body to snap at the unshaped head.

“Arch,” Calix yelled, breaking from the underbrush.

Nellie jumped up, teetering. Arch was on his knees, breathing heavily with his shaking arms grasping his stick for support. She looked around for something to throw or for somewhere they could hide to recover. She gripped her wooden sword with both hands and dashed after Calix.

The snallygaster whipped its head towards her as she took position in front of Calix while he helped Arch up.

“That’s enough.”

A cage of light slammed down on the snallygaster, crumbling what was left of Arch’s gollum. The cage grew smaller and tighter until the snallygaster was pinned to the ground.

The Regere strode from the treeline, lazily waving an ornate walking stick that glowed from every crack. His pale blue eyes looked at the kids.

“Big and flashy is fine if you have the magic reserves to back it up,” the Regere said coolly. He looked more pointedly at Nellie. “Running around in a panic helps no one. Back to the car. All of you.”

Arch was too tall for Nellie to help Calix walk him from the woods. She dragged her feet behind them, feeling useless and trying hard to ignore her throbbing, bleeding shoulder.

It felt like hours they waited for the Regere and the Knights to straighten out restraining the snallygaster, but the dashboard clock let it be known it was only twenty minutes. After which, the Regere gave a dismissive nod to the pair of Knights and climbed into the car.

The drive back was short and silent.

“Check in with your guardians,” the Regere said, shutting his car door harder than necessary. “Hold nothing back.” He looked at each of them. “Mrs. Monroe will see to you. Wait in your rooms.”

“How’s your shoulder,” Arch asked once the Regere had disappeared inside.

“Hurts, but it isn’t bleeding anymore,” Nellie said. “Are you all right?”

Arch shrugged sheepishly. “Let it get away from me a bit. Calix?”

“No issue,” Calix said, holding his arms out and twisted to show he was dirty and tore his shirt on something, but otherwise fine.

They slowly made their way inside. Nellie suspected the boys did not hurry ahead or walk at their natural gait to create more space between them and her uncle. She did not grow up with him as a powerful figure of admiration, and she still felt the sting of disappointment when he looked at them. Calix and Arch must have felt awful.

Mrs. Monroe dusted a fine powder on Nellie’s wounded shoulder when she checked on her. After a tingling, the wound shut up and she was handed a damp washcloth.

“For the blood,” Mrs. Monroe said. She pulled a clunky cordless phone from one of her apron pockets. “I’ll give you your privacy. Bring the phone down to the parlor when you’ve finished.”

“Um…,” Nellie blushed, embarrassed, “I don’t know–.”

Mrs. Monroe handed her a folded slip of paper. “Ms. Herle’s number, in case you need a refresher.”

Nellie waited until the door clicked shut before unfolding the paper. She dialed, getting the slightest bit of amusement from the buttons giving way to her touch with a beep as she did, and eagerly held the phone to her ear.

‘Hello,’ Nathalie’s voice came unsurely.

“It’s me,” Nellie said, bubbling with excitement. “I have so much to tell you! But first, how’s Ash?”

Once Nathalie updated her, she described Silas’s compound the best she could but frequently defaulted to ‘huge’, ‘grand’, ‘elegant’, and ‘awesome’. She told Nathalie all about the others at the compound, eagerly bringing up how she and Ava already knew each other from school. She mentioned there was a bigfoot in the woods, but did not mention how she, Fin, and Calix found it.

“--and Hodge is there too,” Nellie finished, slightly breathless. “Penny is somewhere, but I guess Hodge stays with Silas when she’s… wherever. Me and Ava go visit him a few times a day. Sometimes we even help feed and clean him. Oh, and Silas has a bunch of jackalopes! Those are real!”

‘Truly,’ Nathalie said. ‘How about that. …Nellie, how’s it going with your uncle? I’ve been dreadfully worried.’

“I guess okay,” Nellie said, sprawling across her bed. “He’s… quieter than I pictured. Or, I don’t know, that probably isn’t the right word. I pictured him more evil or crazy or something, but he’s just some guy.”

‘The unassuming ones end up being the serial killers,’ Nathalie said. She laughed lightly causing Nellie’s heart to ache. ‘Too many podcasts.’

“I miss overhearding them,” Nellie murmured.

‘I miss you too, Nellie love.’ Nathalie sighed heavily. ‘I can’t help but worry with you so far. And with a man I was told to keep away from you. And surrounded by creatures and magic and gods knows what else. What if you were hurt? Would they even be able to get you into hospital without me there?’

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Nellie said. “I got a big gash in my shoulder just an hour ago and it’s already healed. They have this powder–.”

‘I beg your pardon,’ Nathalie interrupted.

Nellie bit her lip, shutting her eyes in dread. “Have you ever heard of a snallygaster,” she asked innocently.

‘Most certainly not, as you well know,’ Nathalie said with an edge. ‘Perenelle, did that man toss you at some dangerous beast?’

“Calix and Arch were with me,” Nellie protested. “And tossed is–.”

‘Oh, so he throws more than just young girls at these monsters,’ Nathalie said, her voice high. ‘How comforting!’ Nellie could hear her swearing but it was too low to make out the exact words. ‘Nellie,unfortunately, I must get off now. Please, write to me. And we’ll speak soon.’

“Are you going to harass Silas” Nellie asked suspiciously.

‘I love you. Bye-bye.’

The phone clicked as the call ended. Nellie stared at the chunky, black plastic and rubber buttons. She groaned and slunk out of her room to put the phone away.

Finding the parlor was easy enough despite Nellie not being certain what a parlor was. The house was big, but nowhere near the mansion that was Silas’s. She found the living room and spotted a long, thin table in a small nook between the living room and formal dining room that housed six phone docks, two of which were empty. She docked her cordless phone on one with a beep.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as a pressure beared down on her. She turned and smiled politely at her uncle.

“How’s your shoulder,” the Regere asked.

“Completely healed,” Nellie said, rotating her shoulder for extra measure.

“Powdered alicorn does wonders,” the Regere said. 

There was a long pause. Nellie rocked up and down on her toes, glancing around while the Regere inspected his cuticles. 

He chuckled. “Perhaps I should’ve brought Morgan. Ah, well, live and learn.” He gestured towards the dining room. “Tea? Dimopoulos is already in the kitchen.”

Calix was nursing a glass of iced tea with several lemon slices. His eyes looked tired now that enough time passed from their entanglement with the snallygaster for his adrenaline to wane. He clamoured to his feet, giving a nod to the Regere.

The Regere gestured to the counter, indicating Calix should sit and that Nellie should sit with him. He took a seat at the small table, turning so that his back was to them and helping himself to a muffin.

“Your parents are part of the Auctorita,” the Regere asked.

“Yes, sir,” Calix said quickly, easing back into his seat. “Rangers. They assist the near Keeper Conservatory.”

“They’ve trained you well,” the Regere said.

Calix swelled, spilling his tea as he tried sipping it with his smile so wide.

Arch walked in and balked at the sight of them. His fair complexion tinted pink and his shoulders slumped when his glittering eyes fell on the Regere’s back. He carefully climbed onto the seat beside Nellie, hanging his head.

“Willoughby,” the Regere said. Arch tensed. “You have great potential. You just need restraint.”

“Th-thank you, sir,” Arch stammered, his cheeks brightening more as a smile took over his handsome face.

“You’ve been schooled by the Order of Ferblanc, correct?” The Regere glanced over at them with a secretive smile. “I was once as well.”

Calix and Arch were so elated that if they floated off their seats it would not have shocked Nellie too much. She could not help but smile along with them, feeling oddly proud of these two boys she had only known a week.

The three of them began recapping the snallygaster, giving way to the excitement of finding and battling such a dangerous cryptid. The Regere was all but forgotten as they went on, growing more at ease. 

Nellie stole a glance at his seat once as Arch lamented not thinking of caging the beast, but found the seat empty. She looked around, seeing the kitchen empty of him, and slipped off her chair. She found him silently striding towards a set of French doors with an old flip phone in his hand.

“Regere,” Nellie called, trotting over. She slowed as his light eyes fell on her but continued forward. “Since we already captured the snallygaster, I was wondering how much longer we’re staying.”

“We leave tomorrow morning,” the Regere said. He brandished his phone. “I was going to have it arranged.”

“Then what,” Nellie asked. “Are there other jobs?”

“Not for you,” the Regere said. He kept his eyes on his phone, slowly dialing a number too long to be local. “This mission was more of a whim. I’d heard you had a bit of magnetism with creatures, and being able to find the snallygaster so quickly speaks to that. Just a bonus I could guise it as assessing Dimopoulos and Willoughby.”

She took a step back, twisting her hands together. There was something cold in her uncle’s voice, something dismissive and dehumanizing in the way he spoke about the three of them.

“Did… you use me as bait,” Nellie asked.

“I suppose so, although Willoughby would’ve also attracted the thing well enough,” the Regere said. “But, having it hunt you in the woods over him was interesting.” He waved his phone at her. “Forgive me, but I should make arrangements before it gets much later. You’ll want to get back to your school friend and Morgan at a decent time.” He paused, halfway into the office. “Oh, and should you want your dog creature to join you at Silas’s, I’m sure I can find a way.” He smirked. “Even if that means shutting down a handful of airports and highways.”

She felt cold, jumping as the office door shut with an echoing click.

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

I used this info for the snallygaster reference, but added the hissed based on Briar's turkey hissing. It sounds super creepy: Snallygaster: The Winged Terror of Maryland – Cryptid Index

I kept trying to figure out how to make magic different than how I do it for Witchboy (and some extent Fable Tale), and then I figured I didn't need to. So, mages/magic people have a conduit to help channel their powers, but unlike in Witchboy it isn't 100% nessecary. They can do magic with one (usually a staff or wand or some type of totem) but it won't be as focused or powerful. Nature/natural magic is an exception, and so is the Regere. And, like in FT (and probably Witchboy to a degree) magic and technology don't mix well, because magic is somewhat like electricity so can short things out. That's my constant with magic across everything even if there are small differences elsewhere (I was trying to find a reason for Amias to whip out an old flip phone to get this explaination happen in story, and it never happened, so out of story one until Nellie isn't creeped out and it comes up, I guess).

The Order of Ferblanc's main role is to keep magic people in check, so they have special schools for mage kids to learn the basics so they understand how to keep themselves under control and learn about how dangerous magic can be to them and others. About half of the kids stay on to be the teachers and caretakers, finding that a better alternative to just hiding what they can do or being afraid of trusting the wrong people with the secret. When the Auctorita was formed, it gave another life path so most of the ones that don't become teachers join up. (And some are recruited/join the Keepers, but a much smaller percent.)

The Regere had impossibly light blue eyes. They almost looked like they glowed given his warm, brown complexion and dark hair. They pierced through Nellie, causing her throat to go dry.

“Perenelle,” the Regere said, his voice smooth. He smirked. “I hate to give into the cliche, but… you’ve grown so much.” His eyes snapped to Silas. “When’s supper?”

“Forty-five minutes, sir,” Mrs. Adams piped up.

“Perfect,” the Regere said. “Come along, Morgan.”

A leaf was added to the long dining room table to make extra space. The usual, plain plates were replaced with ones with gold flourishes. Candles were added along the table for more atmosphere.

Nellie had been required to bring her only nice dress to the compound. It was to look the part when they practiced formal occasions. She tried telling herself that this dinner was nothing but practice, but that did not stop the knots in her stomach. Worse, Mrs. Adams put her to the right of the head of the table.

She popped up from her seat along with the others as the Regere and Morgan entered. Her uncle hesitated before continuing on to his seat. Morgan bore a smug look as he happily went to his at the far end of the table next to Mrs. Adams and across from Itzel.

The Regere glanced at them as they all sank into their seats after he sat. “I wasn’t expecting supper to be such a formal affair, Silas,” he said to his left. “I did show up unannounced.”

“True; I was expecting Amias, but I was going to use having a guest for these kids to practice their table manners anyway,” Silas said.

“Glad to be of service,” the Regere murmured. “I’ll leave tomorrow. I thought it time I peruse your recruits.”

She looked up from her steamed carrots, feeling those eyes on her. He was smiling politely. She tried to return it.

“You did get Brue’s freckles,” the Regere said. “Or a fraction of them. She worried about that.”

“About… me having freckles…?”

“She was teased horribly as a girl,” the Regere said. His eyes slid to the rest of the table. “I assume some of you are seventeen now. Which ones?”

“I am, Regere, sir,” Arch blurted out, nearly knocking his glass over in his urgency to answer.

Calix quietly raised his hand.

Nellie was grateful her uncle’s attention was elsewhere. She leaned into the table to get Morgan’s attention, but he was happily chatting with Itzel at the far end. From Nellie’s vantage point, Itzel’s expression was hidden by a sharp triangle of black hair. With the other side of her head shaved nearly to the scalp (Nellie suspected it was a fire related accident and not a fashion choice) there was no effective way to tie her hair back.

Calix was carefully, but eagerly, telling the story of tripping the bigfoot in the dark. He made gestures to Fin and Nellie; Fin leaping at the chance to embellish the night hike. Nellie was trying to ignore the Regere stealing looks her way, trying to now catch Ava’s eye, but failing with Ava searching the table for an extra napkin. Arden’s swollen lip was leaking.

“Perenelle,” the Regere said, “did you enjoy finding that creature?”

“The bigfoot,” Nellie asked. “I guess so. …I never thought about it.”

She squirmed under the Regere’s piercing stare. She pointedly put her attention back on the rest of her pot roast.

“Silas?”

“Regere?”

“Evora mentioned something about the Order of Ferblanc having quite the time with some snarling, winged beast,” the Regere said. “As I understand, there is no Keeper in the immediate area. Or, if there is, the creature is too much.”

“The Order reached out,” Silas asked, frowning.

“Maybe not formally…” He set his utensils aside. “I’ll bring Perenelle with me. Perhaps Willoughby and Dimopoulos too. Give them experience.”

“Yes, please,” Calix and Arch blurted out together.

“It’s undeniably an opportunity for–,” Silas started politely.

“It’s settled then,” the Regere said.

“Nathalie won’t–.”

The Regere stood, and there was a mad scramble as the rest of the table tried to stand, unsure if that was the correct move or not. Morgan stayed seated at the far end, loudly muttering how his father was not royalty and did not need the pomp.

“Morgan,” he said, “don’t stay up too late. Mind the jetlag.”

Nellie’s blue eyes looked up from what was left of her cold dinner, finding Silas. He was holding his broad forehead with his calloused hand, shaking his head back and forth. She always had trouble estimating how old he was, but now she was certain he was older than Nathalie. He very well could have been Granddad’s age.

That brought up the question of how old was Mrs. Adams since she already looked older than Silas at her most chipper.

“Don’t worry, Nellie, I’ll have a talk with the Regere and give Nathalie a call about all this,” Silas said. He rose to his feet. “Mrs. Adams, please, see to the rest.”

Nellie waited until the table settled before slipping from the dining room. Her short, chunky heels clacked on the polished floor as she ran to catch Silas before he met up with the Regere or locked himself in his office to call Nathalie.

“Silas,” she hissed, closing in on him. “Silas, wait!”

He stopped outside his office. He eyed her quizzically, leaving her space to start the conversation.

“It is a good opportunity,” Nellie said, breathing hard. “Tell her that. And that I’ll write letters. And call during the weekly phone time too.”

“Then, you’re fine going with your uncle to find this…” Silas trailed off, frowning. “I’ll have to ask Regere for more details on what this creature is. Snarling with wings doesn’t exactly narrow it down.”

“Calix and Arch will be there,” Nellie said. “I am dying to see Arch let loose.” She shrugged. “And… Ira never was concerned about the Regere. I think I should spend some time with him.”

The Regere would paint a more intimate picture of Brue. Nellie was not fully sure she wanted all the nitty details of her mother, but she wanted the option to ask. Her uncle was the best person for this, and he could shed more light on why she was now a dragon.

She spent the night tossing and turning. She stayed in bed until light shone through the gap in her curtains. She dressed in jeans, unsure where she would be today. She pulled her backpack from under her bed and left it ready to pack.

The house was eerily still. The sun was up, but it was still too early for more than a lone bird to sing. The floorboards seemed to creak extra loud, especially when she tiptoed past bedrooms.

The Regere stood with his back to her, staring out the large windows in the living room. He wore a silken navy robe over a set of matching pajama pants. His dark hair was messy from sleep.

Nellie teetered on approaching and leaving.

“Good morning, Perenelle.” She jumped, blushing when he turned to her with a smirk. “Sorry I frightened you.”

The Regere did not wear a matching silken navy shirt as she had expected. A worn-to-dark gray Black Sabbath shirt peeked out from the folds of his robe.

“Silas tells me you have a school friend at the compound,” the Regere said conversationally. He chuckled lightly, shutting his cool blue eyes. “I’m not sure what we talk about. It’s a bit awkward.”

Nellie took a seat on one of the plush, leather armchairs opposite of the windows. She scratched at a crack in the leather.

“My father told my uncle not to let you near me,” Nellie mumbled. “I guess he blames you for what happened to Brunhilde…”

“He does. I can’t say that he’s completely wrong to do so.”

She waited for him to elaborate and was strongly reminded of how trying her first conversation with Morgan was. It was a little surprising the head of a secret, international organization was a bad communicator.

“Did you curse her into a dragon,” Nellie asked bluntly.

The Regere snickered, shaking his head. “No, I did not.” He stared at his hands. Then, more to himself, he murmured, “I should’ve been able to stop it. What’s the point of all this power otherwise?”

She searched for something to say to this stranger, but was lost. She had not even known Brue existed half a year ago, let alone this uncle.

Nellie was saved by Morgan stumbling in, his dark hair a mess like his father’s. He also wore a robe over his pajamas, but none of the pieces formed a set with the robe being sage terricloth, the pants red plaid with a rip on the left knee, and the shirt a mustard yellow that had some type of decal that had long been washed off leaving off-white residue.

“Are travel plans set,” Morgan asked, finishing with a yawn.

The Regere glanced at Nellie. “They are,” he said. “Silas was able to contact all guardians for permission and square things away.”

“Oh…,” Morgan said. “Can he add one more? Itzel isn’t near–.”

“Morgan,” the Regere cut off, “before you get ahead of yourself, you aren’t joining us. This excursion is for me to assess and guide–.”

“Nellie gets to go,” Morgan growled.

“Because I don’t know her, and this is–.”

“Oh, but you know me,” Morgan snapped. He glared at his father, then at Nellie. “Fine. Have fun.” He stormed out.

The Regere let loose a long, drawn out groan. Nellie awkwardly studied the crown molding around the ceiling fan.

“The flight is at ten-thirty,” the Regere said. “I’ll meet you at the airport.” He swept from the room, but not after Morgan.

---

It was a short flight—expedited by bypassing security—and a short drive to a blue rectangle of a house full of windows lined with gray shutters. The Chesapeake Bay was just visible in the upstairs windows if Nellie stood on her toes.

She squished her face against the window to better see the ground below. A whoop, muffled by the thick glass, sounded as Arch and Calix ran around like overly stimulated toddlers. A colorful spark shot by her window.

A sharp knock sounded on the pale, wooden door. There was a pause before a slim, petite woman with rosy cheeks and a spiky, grey pixie cut let herself in.

“Tea is downstairs.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Monroe,” Nellie said.

Nellie jumped the last step of the stairs into a modestly decorated foyer. She vaguely wondered if Mrs. Monroe was married. Mrs. Adams did not seem to be despite her name.

The tea was laid out on a polished coffee table. There were bite-sized ham and cheese sandwiches, shortbread cookies, and a pot of tea. She made herself a plate with two sandwiches, three cookies, and poured herself a tea with a sugar cube. She settled near the window.

She was just getting cozy when the Regere walked in. She jumped to her feet, hastily put her sandwich back on the plate, and straightened.

He poured himself a cup and grabbed two cookies without reacting to her. She could have been invisible. He retreated to a corner away from the window, taking up a thin stack of papers left on the wingback chair.

Nellie eased down onto the plush loveseat as she continued to go ignored.

“I won’t say not to be formal,” the Regere said, causing Nellie to spill tea as she startled. “It very well could be a service to you. Stop people thinking you feel entitled due to our connection, unlike a certain boy we both know.” He smirked over the tops of the papers. “When we’re alone, or with family, then all formality, naturally, should be dropped. You are my favorite sister’s only child. That does have a privilege to it.”

“Oh, that’s right, you have another one,” Nellie said, glad there was something they could talk about before diving right into everything involving the Realm. “And a big brother too. Vikram, right?”

“I’m shocked Morgan could tell you his uncle’s name,” the Regere said. “He’s never met the man.” He sipped his tea, his light blue eyes on his papers. “There’s quite the age gap between us.”

Nellie did not feel the need to tell her uncle that Uncle Winston was the one who gave away the Regere’s name that led her to browse the internet and discover her family tree. Uncle Winston would be aghast that she was sitting there speaking to this man. It was best to keep those two completely separate.

“Morgan said Grandfather Agarwal didn’t like him,” Nellie said.

“He doesn’t,” the Regere said. “Nor me.”

“...What about Brue?”

“Indifference.”

“But, why,” Nellie asked. “He’s your dad. That means something, doesn’t it?”

The idea that her mother had a full, complete, intact family but was alone built a lump in her throat. The fact her father left her flittered into her mind.

“You seem troubled,” the Regere murmured. “Uncomfortable with all this father talk?”

She glared at him as her sadness was instantly switched with fury. She shrunk as his eyes snapped to her.

“Your father loved you,” he said. “He didn’t leave because of dislike or indifference, or whatever reason you have swirling in your head. It truly was because he thought he could bring Brue back to you.” He returned to his papers. “Perhaps we should arrange a visit….”

She felt like someone threw ice water in her face. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Y-you know where he is?”

“More or less,” the Regere said nonchalantly, keeping most of his focus on his papers. “Two or three steps behind, I should say.” He set his papers aside and frowned at his cold cup of tea. “To this creature first.”

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

I should pop into HeroForge and try to make Brecken. I was trying to find a good descriptor for his eyes other than 'light blue' or 'pale blue' and was coming up blank. It would need to be something Nellie knows since she's the POV.

Any guess on what this cryptid could be?