They were whisked away to the Knight Barracks down near a right angle of road called Devil’s Corner. All of them had injuries from the run in with the monster. Brody got off with a ripped shirt and some shallow scratches from the wing. Calix dislocated his shoulder breaking Ira’s door down to get his sword. Itzel had several deep scratches from when the cryptid landed on her, but only one needed stitches. Nellie’s torn shoulder needed stitches too.
Ira did not go with them to the Knight Barracks. He went north to the Conservatory with Cecily. She was limping when Nellie last saw her.
“Bear it a tad longer,” Knight Wilde said patiently. His thick fingers were somehow holding the stitching needle deftly, and Nellie hadn’t felt more than small tugs thanks to his skill–and some numbing cream.
Itzel stood a few feet away, anxiously tiptoeing and wringing her hands as she watched. That made Nellie want to see how bad her arm looked, but she fought the urge.
“And… done.” Knight Wilde creaked back in his rocking chair. “Whew, you kids sure saw one heck of a night, didn’t you?”
“We really appreciate the help,” Brody said, approaching with a steaming cup. He handed it to Nellie. “Is there… any word on his highness?”
“Or the gryphon,” Calix added from across the room. He was holding a large Ziploc of ice to his wrapped, relocated shoulder.
“No, but he said to bring you to Nahma once you were all patched up,” Knight Wilde said. “I have great optimism that the prince is well.”
Nellie sipped at her tea, finding it was a strong, black variety that was familiarly unpleasant. She held it in her mouth, forcing it down with a gulp that nearly choked her.
“Don’t share your father’s tea preference, I take it,” Knight Wilde said with amusement. “Here, I’ll take it. No need to be polite.”
It almost surprised her that Knight Wilde knew of Rhys, but he was about fifty. Nellie wasn’t sure how long training in Rome was but he and Rhys were near enough that they probably had some overlap.
It also seemed that a lot of people knew who Rhys was without meeting him. Fin knew who he was despite his father not ever meeting Rhys.
“We crossed paths while he was in America,” Knight Wilde explained.
Nellie was glad she did not still have bitter tea in her mouth. She would’ve spat it. “Rhys was in America? When?”
“Years ago,” Knight Wilde said. His deeply lined brow furrowed. “Yikes, it would’ve been more than a decade since he’s left.”
That made sense after the shock of hearing it wore off. Silas was American, and he said Penny's mother was a friend of his and Rhys's.
“You wouldn't know where he went… would you,” Nellie asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Knight Wilde smiled sympathetically, shaking his head.
With them all patched up, Knight Wilde and Knight Doyle—a tall man with pepped hair and a large gash scar on his arm—escorted them up to Namha. It was a short drive made shorter with the hour being so late that the roads were empty and speeding was possible.
Nahma came and went in a blink. They turned north. The properties thinned out until the only one visible was a tiny white building with a steepled roof. They went through the parking lot, and took an unpaved road out into the trees and mountains, soon coming upon a stone wall that strongly reminded Nellie of pictures she’d seen of the Great Wall.
Nellie didn’t see how they made it through the wall, but they were parking in a large clearing with the wall behind them before she knew it.
Keeper Orwell took it upon himself to lead them through the twists and turns of the Conservatory. He was spouting facts like the building being crescent shaped and the wall having smaller, thinner walls to make large enclosures for the different cryptids in residence.
Nellie was having trouble listening. It must have been near midnight, and now that she was safe and warm, she was beginning to nod off on her feet. Calix’s head was also lolling as they walked; Brody was yawning so wide his eyes watered.
She and Itzel were shown to a small, stone room cramped with two twin beds. There was barely room to move between the beds, but somehow Nellie was able to get into one. She was out before the door shut.
---
Itzel was gone when Nellie finally woke sometime midday judging by the strong sunlight streaming from the little window. She sat on the edge of the bed for several minutes, not sure what to do and feeling slightly grungy in her ripped and bloodstained pajamas. She gave into a combination of boredom and curiosity, and wandered out.
The thin, curved halls looked different with them sunfilled. She walked with her head turned to stare out the massive walls of windows, feeling her heart swoop as a huge, dark bird with lightning crackling on its wings soared by.
“Thunderbird.”
Nellie jumped at the voice, turning to see a stern woman standing there. She was a tall woman, easily six feet, with gray streaked hair that was twisted up in a knot. Her mouth was thin, dark eyes narrow, and her cheekbones sharp. Her brassy skin was worn and deeply lined on her brow and around her mouth, as if she scowled often.
“My apologies, Miss Herle,” she said with a slight nod. “I’m Keeper Yardley, the resident stalker for this Conservatory. If we stalkers can even claim residency.”
Stalkers were specialized Keepers, from what Ira once told her. They sought out dangerous cryptids versus the regular Keepers that kept more to one location and watched over all the creatures. His parents had been stalkers prior to Clayborne York ascending to Protector of the Realm.
“Prince Ira sent me to see if you had woken,” Keeper Yardley said.
“Ira’s okay,” Nellie said, relieved. “What about Cecily?”
“I was just sent to fetch you,” Keeper Yardley said. “Follow, if you please.”
She followed Keeper Yardley with her head turned to stare out the windowed wall. They came to a spacious room where Keeper Orwell and Ira were calmly sipping hot drinks. Keeper Orwell immediately set his cup down and stood.
“We’ll leave you to it, your highness,” Keeper Orwell said.
Ira was wearing his pajamas, complete with the worn AC/DC shirt Nellie remembered from his Tennessee visit. His pajamas were clean, opposite of hers, and she assumed his clothes from last night had been ruined much like her shirt and Itzel’s nightgown.
“The Keepers call that cryptid a Piasa Bird,” Ira said. He smiled wryly. “Not much of a bird, really. More of one of those dragon adjacent creatures your cousin was musing on.”
“Is Cecily okay,” Nellie asked, looking Ira up and down for signs of injuries.
“Cecily will be all right,” Ira said. “She’ll recover here and fly home. Shouldn’t be more than a week or two.” He knit his fingers, staring at them unseeingly. “She protected me. Took the brunt of the attacks. I’m perfectly fine.”
Nellie went and sat next to him on the small, plush couch. She, too, stared at her hands as the silence between them lengthened. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just quiet.
“That cryptid… it having a human face… that makes it more real that our moms got turned into dragons,” Nellie murmured. She swallowed. Her throat was dry. “Do you think… it was someone’s mom?”
“With that face? Hardly.” Ira drained his tea. “Penny and I theorized all dragons were female, but this challenges that. Or, perhaps, because this is not a true dragon it doesn’t follow that pattern.” His clear eyes darted to his phone resting on the coffee table before them. “I messaged her after I arrived last night, but still nothing.”
It was dark when Nellie saw the Piasa Bird, but there was nothing about its features that pointed to it being a male, minus the beard, but since that was stringy and green, she suspected that was part of the transformation. It was also hanging from the chin and jaws, more like a tiger’s beard than a human beard.
A knock sounded, distracted them both from their separate thoughts. Nellie felt compelled to stand as Knight Doyle, Keeper Orwell, Keeper Yardley, and a square-jawed man in a suit filed in. Ira stayed seated at her side, but she noticed his back straighten.
“Knight Captain Thrasher, I thank you for coming,” Ira said, his tone cool and detached like when he arrived at Silas’s compound.
“Highness,” Thrasher said, giving Ira a curt nod. His eyes narrowed at Nellie. “And…?”
“This is Perenelle Herle,” Ira said. “We were just catching up.” He gave Nellie a small smile. “I’m sure you’re starved. There should still be breakfast.”
Nellie kept Thrasher in the corners of her eye as she inched around to exit the room. His stare had hardened after Ira introduced her, making her insides writhe in discomfort. She shut the door after her and teetered on leaving.
“Herle,” came Thrasher’s rough voice. “As in Rhys Herle?”
“Her father.” Ira said. “Shall we–?”
“You consort with a traitor’s child,” Thrasher growled.
“You forget yourself, sir,” Ira said coldly. There was an inaudible muttering. “Now, to business, shall we? His majesty asks your thoughts on—”
She backed away from the door, not caring about Ira’s politicking. Her insides felt hollow at the charge Thrasher had spat about Rhys. It was the first she had ever heard someone speak negatively of him, and it was with a very serious crime.
She wondered what it meant to be a traitor in this sense. It made little sense the longer she tried to sort it out. Rhys had left the Order of Ferblanc to become Commander of the Auctorita. That was the same as leaving one company for a better promotion as far as she could tell.
Thrasher must be a drama queen despite his appearance.
Itzel had tracked down their clothes, and was dressed for the day when Nellie returned to the room. She looked chipper, as if she was visiting home after a long time.
“Ira’s having his meeting right now,” Nellie said, sitting on the edge of her bed. “I don’t know how long it’ll be, but we’ll probably head out to the airport right after.” She looked from the shirt in her hand to Itzel. “Um… can you turn around, please?”
Itzel eyed her as if not sure Nellie was trying to hide something, but did turn to allow her to change in somewhat private. They headed out after, eventually running into Brody and Calix as they stared through the windowed wall, pointing creatures out to one another.
“Hey, girls,” Brody greeted. “How’s the stitches?”
“Honestly, I thought they’d hurt more,” Nellie said. “How’re you guys? Calix?”
“Sore,” Calix said, gingerly touching his shoulder. His arm was still in a sling. “It moves now; that’s what I want.”
They wandered the curved building, trying to see how many different creatures they could spot, while they waited for Ira. Keeper Yardley found them first, informed them that Ira was too busy to escort them, and took them to the airport herself.
Nellie was disappointed she didn’t have time to talk to Ira. She wanted to theorize more about that Piasa Bird. It wouldn’t have hurt to prod him about Thrasher too, just to confirm her suspicions about his temperament.
They were each given a phone and told to call their guardians about their trials as soon as they arrived back at the compound. Nellie double checked the time when Nathalie failed to answer, frowning. It was a Tuesday. She would’ve left for Murfreesboro to be sure she was in the area for the evening class she taught.
She sent a quick message rather than leave a voice one:
Hoped to talk to Ash. Forgot you taught today. I’ll write you.
Nathalie didn’t need to know about the Piasa Bird right that second. Nathalie would learn about the stitches after her time at the compound ended.
Her bedroom door was flung open with a bang. “Nellie!” Morgan strode in, oblivious that she was half-off the edge of her bed due to his startle. “You’ve got to–.”
“You’ve got to knock, Morgan, I’ve told you,” Nellie interrupted.
“Nevermind all that,” Morgan dismissed. “This creature–this Piasa Bird–the face was human?” He began pacing. “Of course, this goes to my theory of dragon adjacent being connected. That much is certain.”
“Is it,” Nellie asked.
“His highness was rather short sighted to not look at these adjacent creatures,” Morgan said with superiority. “Ah, well, I suppose he’ll be more willing to listen to my ideas in the future.”
“He… did listen,” Nellie said, unsurely.
“You must tell me everything,” Morgan said, jumping up on the edge of her bed.
She rushed through the encounter with the Piasa Bird, only lingering to describe it. Morgan nodded slightly as she talked, his eyes staring as his mind turned things over.
“It isn’t your mother…,” Morgan mused. “I wonder if we could use facial recognition to determine who it was prior to this curse.”
“If it is a curse,” Nellie said. “There are cryptids that are humanoid. Like mermaids. …Mermaids are real, right?”
“They are,” Morgan said through clenched teeth. “That still doesn’t mean my theory is wrong.”
“I didn’t say it was! I was just saying we don’t have enough info,” Nellie said.
There was a long lapse of silence between them. Nellie had no idea why Morgan was quiet. He hadn’t just spent half a night fighting for his life and being wounded in the process. He hadn’t just overheard his father called a traitor. He wasn’t desperately trying to ignore the nagging that invaded when things got too quiet.
“How,” Nellie started quietly, clearing her throat, “am I supposed to know my mother?” She picked her nails, keeping her eyes down. “I don’t remember Brue. How am I supposed to know it’s her?”
“How could you not remember her,” Morgan asked incredulously. “Weren’t you two? You should have firm, core memories of her.”
Shame and guilt seared her insides. She must have had memories of Brue and Rhys, and living with them as a family when she went to live with Nathalie. She forgot about them both though.
“Well… perhaps asking you to have any detailed memories at that age is a big ask,” Morgan said uncomfortably, pointedly not looking at her. “And, you had so much happen once you started your new life, that it makes sense you held onto all those memories.”
“I liked that life too,” Nellie murmured.
Morgan shifted uncomfortably. “Better than now?”
Nellie laughed, nudging him. “No. I like having a little cousin.” She laughed again at his scowl, but could see a smile threatening to escape. She sighed. “I still have no idea how to know if the dragon we eventually find is really my mother though. Maybe I should ask Rhys? Your dad said he knew where he was. I bet we could really solve all this if we teamed up.”
“Or are you looking for an excuse to meet your father,” Morgan asked suspiciously.
Nellie’s freckled cheeks tinted red. She tossed her auburn waves off her shoulder, wincing as she hand brushed her stitches and ruining the airs she was trying to put on.
“I dread suggesting it, but you could ask his highness or that Penny woman if they have any strategy for recognizing their mothers other than multiple years with her.” He gave a lamenting type of sigh. “And, I suppose I could ask my father about yours on your behalf. Speed it up a bit.”
“I don’t know… Going to the Regere seems like a slippery slope somehow… But….”
“Excellent,” Morgan said, slipping off the bed onto his feet. “I’ll drop it casually. Maybe to my mother. I’ll leave you to dress for dinner.”
“Dress,” Nellie asked. “Is it formal?”
“No, of course not,” Morgan said with a laugh. “You just look a mess. I thought you’d want to remedy that.”
She looked for something to throw at him as he left, failing. She was sure to lock the door after him. She fought the grin trying to disrupt her annoyance.
--------------------------------------
This just took forever. I need that kid to sleep more. I was trying to name people and then realised Orwell was also a literary name, so changed those Knights to Doyle and Wilde to also be literary. But, I liked Yardley so kept it and was too tired to think of another writer to replase Thrasher, lol. I've been looking for a spot to put a thunderbird since I started typing this thing. I spent many hours of my childhood staring into the sky wondering if the bird I was looking at was big enough to be a thunderbird.
I'm thinking chapters will be more sporadic with the fatigue/insomnia thing going on.
A Tier half-transformed as a dracleon back in 2005.
Coronation, 2009
I have made at least 2 attempts at drawing the Alan Parsons Project song "Snake Eyes"... this is one from 2011...
...And this one from 2013. I like aspects of both; maybe the layout of this one but mixed with the realism of the other? I need to study my cobra anatomy if I'm going to try again, hah.
Twila Sketch, unknown
And here's just an Ace with epic scarf. I just really like scarves. This was dated 2014!
Train in the Distance, 2014?
Ava Harley, 2016
