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