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.

It was a frog. It was a three and a half foot, standing on two long legs, frog.

Nellie realized her mouth was hanging open and quickly closed it. She cleared her throat and twisted around.

“Uh… Brody,” she called, unsure. She tensed, clutching her wooden sword up to her chest as more frogmen appeared from the weeds. “Brody!”

“Oh, good, you’ve found them,” Brody said, taking his hand off his steel sword. “Calix, get a vantage to get the numbers. Itzel…” He pulled a crumpled paper from his pocket. “Fayzer barry-cada de fogo… Sem ree-coo-are…?”

Itzel’s dark eyes looked worried. She twisted the hem of her shirt anxiously with one hand, clutching a long, beaten wooden stick with the other.

“Um… fire,” Brody said, pointing to a clump of dry, tall grass. He looked back at his paper. “Which was fire… Fogo?” He gestured to the grass. “Fogo.” He pointed at the frogmen. “No fogo.”

Itzel nodded slowly.

“Nellie, you’ll be with me ushering them into the trailer” Brody said. “Cal, how many?”

“I see twelve,” Calix called from somewhere about Nellie’s head.

“Itzel, fogo,” Brody said pointing to the grass. “Ready, Nellie?”

She nodded meekly despite not feeling at all ready. She was still grasping with being stared at by huge frogs. She cringed as one licked its orb-like eye.

The fire was lit, and the frogmen scattered. Calix yelled out positions and numbers from his perch. Brody must have been moving them into the waiting trailer successfully because the numbers were dwindling, and Nellie was confident she was doing nothing but run in circles.

“Two,” Calix called out. “Nellie, left shoulder! Brody, right knee! Ah, one! Nellie, behind!”

“Got it,” Brody said triumphantly. “Nellie, tell Itzel to stop the fire, and head for the truck.”

It was easier said than done to get Itzel to stop. The first hurdle was physically getting near enough to the young mage with her gleefully setting fire to whatever was dried near her. The next was the language barrier, which initially had Itzel set even more fires until the whole marsh was burning. She caught on once Calix and Brody were frantically kicking mucky water at the flames.

Nellie dragged herself back to the two trucks, one a muddy pickup hitched with a trailer and the other with a large cabin. Ira was speaking softly to the pickup’s driver–a middle-aged man in hunter fatigues. She was too singed, muddy, and damp to eavesdrop and headed for the larger truck.

“Are you the mage,” the man asked, breaking off his conversation with Ira.

“No,” Nellie said. “That’s Itzel.”

“This is Perenelle Herle,” Ira introduced. “Nellie, this is Keeper Orwell.”

“Herle,” Orwell mused, shaking Nellie’s hand as if she were an adult. “I briefly knew a Herle once. Englishman.”

“Her father,” Ira said.

“Really,” Orwell said in polite surprise. He bent to look her in the face. “Yes… I can see some resemblance.”

“Thanks,” Nellie said as she awkwardly leaned away.

Orwell straightened and turned his full attention back to Ira. “Herle was dreadfully serious from what I remember. Not at all like your father. When he turned out to be the Protector of the Realm… Well, I thought we were lost.”

Ira gave a tense smile. He gestured towards Calix and Brody. “Please, allow me to introduce you.”

Nellie slipped into the truck, startling when she found it wasn’t empty. Itzel waved meekly, curling against the door.

“Some night, huh,” Nellie said, slumping against the door. She watched Orwell shaking hands with Calix and Brody, their expressions flitting between pride and unease. “I think we did pretty well. Silas said frog-like water guardians, but I still wasn’t prepared for that.” She glanced at Itzel who was watching her in the dark cab with her large, dark eyes. Nellie had to remind herself that Itzel was two years older than her, and much more powerful in quiet moments like this.

She scooted into the middle as Brody climbed in. Calix took the front with Ira.

“We should arrive at our lodgings within fifteen,” Ira said, starting the truck. “We’ll stop at the Conservatory in Nahma tomorrow to check in on the frogmen before I drop you at the airport in Escanaba.”

There was a heavy silence in the truck. There was not a great amount of adrenaline to come down from, but they had run around a lot. They were starting to feel the hour time difference–for Nellie it was her timezone when she wasn’t at the compound–and it felt much later than shortly after sunset.

“Highness,” Brody squeaked. He cleared his throat. “Highness, I looked up frogmen to prepare for this mission… Aren’t we too far north?”

“Likely,” Ira said with a final sort of tone.

“Mr. Javernick says frogmen relocated often,” Calix said, twisting to address Brody better. “Too many developments in Ohio, so to Michigan. But, same situation.”

“And this group escaped en route to the Conservatory,” Nellie added. “Silas just asked if we could help for experience.” She leaned over into the front seat, looking at Ira. “Why you’re our chaperon is the bigger question.”

“The Order of Ferblanc and the Keepers both have presence here,” Ira said plainly. “I’m to speak with them.”

Brody was staring at his lap, frowning. “It… just seems too cold for amphibians….”

“The Keepers will monitor this population,” Ira said. “Their children will be better suited and able to be released.” He smiled into the rearview. “It’s admirable you show them concern.”

Calix turned towards them, flashing Brody a sturdy thumbs up.

They pulled into a parking lot for a large, yellow-bricked building. There was a small, rounded awning held by four white columns over the turquoise front door. Perched high above the door on the roofline was a cross made of the same yellow brick as the building.

Ira had his own room with a private bathroom. Calix and Brody shared a room with two full-sized beds while Nellie and Itzel were in a room with two single beds. The four of them didn’t have private bathrooms and had to take turns getting ready for bed in the communal one.

Nellie left the bathroom dressed in floral pajama bottoms and an oversized t-shirt. She stopped short to avoid colliding with Ira.

“Where’re you going,” Nellie asked, taking in that he hadn’t changed yet.

“To visit Cecily,” Ira said. “She should be here by now.”

“Let me put my toothbrush away,” Nellie said excitedly.

They were crossing the dark, back lawn five minutes later. Nellie crossed her arms tightly against the night air. It was a warm enough night, but she had never been so far north.

Cecily was in a grove of trees. Her wings glowed in the moonlight as she rustled them, chirping a happy greeting to them. She nuzzled Ira and scratched the ground with her front talons as if dancing in place.

Nellie felt a pang in her chest as she watched Ira smile softly, murmuring into the gryphon’s black, feathered head. She hadn’t seen Ash in nearly five weeks. The Regere’s offer to bring him to Silas’s compound drifted through her mind.

“Are you meeting up with Penny after you’re done doing… whatever it is here?”

“It’s unclear,” Ira said, giving Cecily a hearty pat. “I’d like to, but, unfortunately, my primary function is political and things are becoming very political.”

“Because… we just had an election,” Nellie asked unsurely.

Ira smirked, shaking his head. “A change in a country’s leadership is, of course, something I need to know and keep in mind, but no.” He gave Cecily one more pat before backing away. “Morgan has said nothing to you?”

She felt a twinge of frustration at Ira’s skirting around information. He was unhelpful when shown the dragon research. He was evasive on what he was doing next.

“Morgan doesn’t know most of what his dad gets up to,” Nellie said coolly. “He can’t even tell me where the Auctorita headquarters are.”

“To offer a defense, when you’re a child being ushered back and forth it does get confusing on where things are located,” Ira said.

They broke from the trees, walking slowly back up towards the brick building. She waited for Ira to expand on his defense with either the location or what it was Morgan could potentially have told her that was related to what he was doing, but nothing came. She stopped abruptly to force him to do the same.

“What’s going on,” Nellie asked. “You’re meeting with the Order, and the Keepers, and this all has to do with something you thought Morgan would know. It’s something I should know then, right?”

Ira stared at her, weighing what to say. She could practically see the scales balancing over his head.

“The Regere has been working for the last decade to turn the Auctorita home base into a legal, sovereign, internationally recognized state.”

“Like… its own country?” She frowned at Ira’s nod. “But…? Wait, what’s that mean for you and your dad? Or for the Realm in general?”

“Those are the big questions that my father needs answers to,” Ira said. “As this is a most important matter, I’m his ambassador to ask these questions.” He sighed heavily, staring into the starry sky. “It’s taking away from my search for my mother.”

“I can help look for your mom,” Nellie offered.

“You already are,” Ira said, smiling. “You, Penny, and I are in this together whether we’re physically together or not.”

The bubbles of pride and affection burst as a roar ripped the air. Nellie shrunk next to Ira, scanning the sky for the source of the heavy wing beats. She stole a look at the backdoor they’d been aiming for, her stomach sinking as it seemed to stretch away.

“Down,” Ira ordered, throwing her into the ground.

She felt his arm leave her back, heard his footsteps thudding away. She peeked up while keeping as flat as she could; her heart dropping as she watched him throw himself aside to avoid the talons of a calf-sized creature with a large rack of antlers.

“Nellie,” Ira called. “Get inside!”

He scrambled up and bolted for the trees. The animal made a wide turn with its red, leathery wings and swooped down at Ira again.

Nellie ran for the door, throwing herself through. She gulped at the air, flinched at the roar outside, and raced upstairs. She pounded on Calix’s and Brody’s door.

“Cryptid!” She pounded on her own door. “Creature! Ira needs help!” She tried Ira’s door but found it locked. “No, no!”

“Nellie, what–?” Brody looked half asleep, trying with difficulty to slip his feet in his shoes.

“I need your sword,” Nellie said. “Quick!” She shoved Brody aside—Calix pulling his sheets up to his chin—and took the sword from beside the door. She heaved it up, staggered, and headed back downstairs.

Cecily had joined the battle. She was slamming the creature aside when it swooped at Ira, screech-roaring and snapping at it with her sharp, curved beak. Ira looked more distressed, more frantic as he waved his arms and shouted to get the creature’s attention to stop it from fighting Cecily fully.

“Ira!” Nellie waved at him, pointing to Brody’s sword. “Ira! I got you a sword!”

The creature snapped its head towards her, and her breath died in her throat.

It had a human face. Unmistakably human even in the dark and at the twenty or so yards of distance. Its green, scaly body glittered as it bounded towards her on its four, massive bird feet. Its long tail whipped around as it got closer and closer.

Nellie couldn’t move. She was still staring in horror at the bearded face. The yellow eyes were locked on her.

Flames erupted in front of her, causing her to fall backwards. Itzel–in a princess nightgown–stepped next to her with her staff in her hands.

The creature roared, rearing up to swipe the air above. Calix was leaning from a window, shooting.

“Did it get you,” Brody asked, pulling Nellie up. He took the sword, eyeing the cryptid. “Wu–what is that thing?”

“I don’t–.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Brody interrupted. He tested the weight of his sword, sizing up the creature. He peered through Itzel’s flames at Cecily–now charging the creature again–and Ira. “His highness would fare better… I need to get this sword to him.”

“I’ll distract the… thing,” Nellie said, trying to sound resolute through the quiver in her voice. She looked at Itzel. “Come with me?”

“Calix,” Brody called, “cover the girls!”

Nellie ran out around the fire. She shouted, jumping and waving her arms. She could hear the wing beats, feel them. Her heart jumped as they grew loud enough to shake her body. She stumbled as a blast of fire warmed her back, landing hard on the ground and biting her lip. She spit out the blood as she clawed up to her feet, limping the first few steps until she was trotting again.

An earsplitting scream forced her to stop. She spun and felt her blood turn cold.

The creature had landed on Itzel. She was pressing her staff up against its neck to stop it from biting her with its needle-like teeth.

Nellie looked around for something to throw, finding nothing in the dark. She ran off, being sure to keep enough distance that it couldn’t claw her.

“Hey,” Nellie snapped, waving at it. “Hey, you! Come get me!” She shrunk as it stared at her, but she rooted her feet. “I see you, you creep! Come get–!”

She cried out, knocked over by the creature’s long, whipping tail. Her arm was gushing blood and she spotted a shining, hooked claw on the end of the tail as the cryptid snaked it through the air. Her blue eyes widened as the clawed tail swung towards her face.

Brody jumped in front of her, swinging a sword clean through the end of the creature’s tail. He stood ready to counterattack, dodging as the creature swiped, but getting caught and tossed by the spurs on the animal’s wing joints.

Fire sprung across the grounds. Itzel had rolled onto her stomach, half propped up by her staff, clutching it with both hands.

Ira ran up to them with Calix on his heels. Calix was holding his arm like his shoulder was injured, but Nellie didn’t see blood.

“Dimopoulos, cover them,” Ira ordered. “Jones, can you stand?”

“Yes, highness,” Brody said, hastily jumping up. “Just ripped my pajamas.” He held out the sword he held. “Your sword, highness.”

“Broke your door,” Calix explained, grimacing as he held his arm. “Sorry.”

“For later,” Ira said. “At the moment, just get the girls back indoors.” He switched swords with Brody. “Jones, keep to the building. It can’t swoop you there. Ready? Go!”

Nellie grabbed Itzel’s arm and pulled her up, half trying to explain and half trying to breathe as they sprinted for the door. Itzel being distracted caused her fires to wane into smoulders, giving the creature renewed vigor now that it could see and smell them clearer. Nellie could hear the wing beats getting closer, closer, until she could feel them in her chest.

Calix spun, hurled a grenade with a pained cry as his arm flopped about. It exploded in a puff of putrid smoke that sent them coughing and caused Nellie’s stomach to churn.

The smoke cut as soon as they shut the doors behind them.

“What’s going on out there,” an elderly man asked.

He was not alone. The hallway was packed with what looked like all the guests and staff. Some were muttering to go out the front to see what all the noise was, others to call the police.

“Nellie,” Calix murmured, crouching to her level, “keep them in.”

He darted back outside before she could ask him how.

“Arm,” Itzel said, twisting from Nellie’s grip. Nellie blushed at the fading mark of her hand.

“Where are your parents,” a short woman asked them, eyeing them suspiciously. 

Calix reappeared before Nellie had to lie. His disheveled hair, rotten smoke stink, and uncomfortably dangling arm spiked the tension building in the crowded hall.

“There is gas leak,” Calix announced to the hall. Cecily’s screeching roar sounded outside. “Very dangerous leak.”

“There are no gas lines out there,” a tall man dressed in slacks and a collared shirt said.

“There’s some boy with a sword at the front door,” a shrill voice said from the back of the mob. “He won’t let us leave!”

“Ira’s fighting that thing alone,” Nellie whispered to Calix.

“The gryphon is there,” Calix murmured back.

There had to be something she could do. Calix, Brody, and even Itzel had a better chance at assisting Ira in combat, but Calix couldn't hold a bow and Itzel’s nightgown was blossoming with blood. Calix and Brody were also now stuck trying to contain the increasingly agitated mob from going outside and getting ripped apart.

“My phone…,” Nellie muttered.

“Is that girl bleeding?”

“Yes,” Nellie piped up, taking Itzel’s arm again. “Let us through, please.” She looked back at Calix as a path cleared for them. “I have the Order on my phone. Hold out just a little longer.”

They hurried back to their room, Nellie being sure to release Itzel to not bruise her further along the way. Nellie grabbed her phone from the night table and went to a contact labeled: **EMERGENCY!!!!

‘Order of Ferblanc.’

“H-hi, this is Perenelle Herle,” Nellie said. “I’m with Ira York in Garden, Michigan. He’s being attacked by some… uh, thing? There’s a lot of normal people here, and we’re having a hard time keeping them inside.”

Itzel tapped her shoulder. She gestured to the blood on her nightgown with a scowl.

“Oh, and we have injuries,” Nellie added.

‘The Knights will be there in three, Miss Herle. Anything else, Miss Herle?’

“This cryptid has a human face,” Nellie said. “I-I don’t know if that’s relevant, but… it’s better they know before seeing it.”

‘Understood, Miss Herle; we thank you. They’ll be there now.’

“Thanks,” Nellie said, exhaling. She hung up and took a few deep breaths. She smiled weakly at Itzel. “I think we should stay up here and wait for medics. Or whatever.” She winced as she touched the tacky blood on her arm.

“It hurt,” Itzel asked quietly.

“A little,” Nellie said. “How about you?”

Itzel studied the blood on her nightgown. She sighed heavily. “Ruined.”

They met each other’s eyes, smirked, and started giggling madly.

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

The frogmen at the Loveland Frogman. There were several reports from cops and random people over the years, but the reports did start to die off. Either the frogmen died out or the population moved. I wanted the teased fieldtrip to be something reletively harmless since Silas doesn't want any of them to get hurt.

What Brody was saying to Itzel sounds nothing like that in Portugese. I forgot what it was I typed it, but then I just wrote out what the works looked like as an English speaker and then played the sound to see how different it was. Very different.

The upper pennicula area of Michigan looks wild and crazy, so I thought it'd be a good spot for a Conservatory and a with all the old religious stuff in the area, it was good for the Order of Ferblanc too. There's a small hamlet called Devils Corner that I wanted to take advantage of, but didn't fit it in. The whole thing with the creating a new state/country is more for Ira's eventual story. Nellie gets obsticals like being a noob and young.

With the fight, Brody first shows up with his sword and gives his sword to Ira. Things are still bad, so Calix, being inside still, breaks down Ira's door to retrieve Ira's sword. He crushes his shoulder in the process but gets Ira's sword to Brody. And since I didn't get to say what the cryptid is here (hopefully next chapter) it's called a Piasa Bird. It lives in cliffs in the Illinois area of the Mississipi River, but with development migration I put it up here. I have a picture from my dragon book that I'll put in the chat.

Nellie was called to Silas’s office shortly after she and Morgan had spread out the dragon lore he’d been collecting. It was hard to hide her annoyance at this interruption as she stalked to his office; it had taken her almost an hour to politely ditch Ava who was eager to give swordpractice a try. Nellie had been begging her for weeks to partner up with her since they were both novices.

The office was crowded. Silas sat behind his polished desk. Lilac and Arch sat in the provided chairs before it. Fin and Arden stood behind them. Nellie squeezed herself between Fin and Arden, the three of them glancing at each other questioningly.

“I apologize for having you all here at once,” Silas said. “Busy day. Too busy for me to give each of you a separate fifteen.” He set his eyes on Arden and Fin first. “There’ll be a special guest at the stables for the next two nights. I’m having you both tend to her. Arden will take evenings. Serafin will take mornings. Here.” Silas stretched to hand them each a short list through Lilac and Arch. “Give those to Mrs. Adams, and she’ll set you up.”

“We have to study too,” Arden groaned.

“Britt did send you here to learn,” Silas teased. He nodded to the doors. “I’d get your reading material fast.”

She jostled side to side to give Arden and Fin each space to get to the door behind her. She moved closer so she was standing more between Arch and Lilac than up against the door.

“I’ll have Mrs. Adams announce it during morning lessons, but our guest is of the royal variety,” Silas said. “He’ll need–.”

“Ira,” Nellie interrupted hopefully, wiggling with excitement. “And the box stall is for Cecily, right?”

“Cecily,” Lilac questioned. “What a pretty name….”

“His highness did ask if you were still here,” Silas said with a smile. “As I started to say, his highness will need attendants. Archibald, I was hoping with you being one of the eldest here…?”

“Oh my goodness me, you want me to wait on the prince,” Arch asked, his eyes wide. “B-but, I’m just some mage!”

“The prince doesn’t have any grasp on magic outside of some training with the Order as a kid,” Silas said. “I think he’ll be interested to hear about it from someone that actually has it.”

Arch’s pale cheeks were tinted pink. He murmured inaudibly, nodding. He looked more like a small boy than a six-two teenager capable of creating golems.

“Right,” Silas said, gesturing to the door. “I’ll let you prepare. I need a word with the girls.”

Nellie took Arch’s chair as he left. She stole a glance at Lilac but found the older girl inspecting split-ends in her waistlength blonde hair, humming quietly.

“I would like to have you two tackle the medium greenhouse,” Silas said. He smirked. “Disappointed, Nellie?”

“Oh,” Nellie said, blushing. “N-no… Yes. A little.”

“I’m not great with conversation,” Lilas said.

“No, no, it’s got nothing to do with you,” Nellie panicked.

“We don’t have a huge focus on plants and what you can do with them, and I think Lilac here could fill in some of those gaps,” Silas said. He smiled warmly at Lilac. “She’s a skilled organic chemist. The Auctorita will benefit immensely once she’s old enough to build traveling arsenals fulltime.”

“But college first,” Lilac sighed.

“It’ll strengthen your natural talent,” Silas said. “You’re going in with a plan. No worries.”

She wanted to ask what a traveling arsenal was, but remembered how Penny had released smoke when facing the Cumberland dragon and how Lilac had let loose a smoke grenade when Fin and Morgan were fighting. Nellie hadn’t given either case much thought, but it made sense that someone had to make those.

Lilac stood, jolting Nellie from her thoughts, and left the office with a list in her hand.

“Anything you need to discuss,” Silas asked.

“Not really…,” Nellie trailed off, searching her brain. “Is Penny coming back? If Ira’s going to be here, is she?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Silas said. “She comes and goes without much notice.” He grabbed some papers. “It’s early, but I might as well tell you now that I’m setting up a field trip. I’m thinking you, Brody, Itzel, and perhaps Calix for this one.”

“What kind of field trip,” Nellie asked curiously.

“Patience, Nellie, patience,” Silas said, winking.

Morgan was less than thrilled when Nellie told him about Ira visiting. He grumbled and sulked as Nellie searched the table for an intriguing dragon story to take his mind off his self-imposed rival.

“If Ira’s here, and Penny was just here, then we should focus on a North American dragon story,” Nellie said. She looked hopelessly at the scatters of notes and printed out artist renditions. “Do you have these in any sort of order?”

“That’s what we’re supposed to be doing now,” Morgan said, “but you’re all on about his highness.”

“All I said was that he’s visiting,” Nellie said icily. “And really, that’s good for us. We can ask him which dragon stories he and Penny already investigated.”

“True,” Morgan said grudgingly.

He bent under the table to retrieve a plastic filing case with a cheap, black clasp. He dumped it out, spilling a small,thin marker and little colored slips of paper.

“I found this in one of those airport stores that’s all office supplies,” Morgan said. “There are seven colors. We can work out a system. Continents. Number of legs. Whatever makes sense.”

“You bought it on your way here,” Nellie asked, grinning. “You knew exactly what you wanted to do when you came back to the States.”

“It was the most memorable part of my last visit,” Morgan joked.

The first thing they had to do was match images with notes. Morgan had copied articles and folklore tidbits off the internet and out of books. He later printed pictures off at random after arriving at the compound. It was a puzzle to piece them together, and not all notes had images, and not all images had a caption for what dragon it was supposed to be.

A picture of a red-eyed creature with metallic feathers and scales, and a long, sharp beak caught her attention. Nellie saw Morgan had scrawled ‘snallygaster’ in the corner.

“Why d’you have a snallygaster in here?”

“Dragon adjacent,” Morgan said. He plucked the image from her, pairing it with notes. “We don’t know the exact definition for what is a dragon. I put that famous Scottish pond creature in here too.”

“Nessie? Wait, Nessie’s real?”

“How can you still be surprised by such things,” Morgan asked, rolling his hazel eyes.

“That needs to be our first division,” Nellie said. “Straight up, common-ish dragons versus dragon adjacent.”

They slowly began forming four piles. They marked the more traditional dragons with red slips, water based creatures like Nessie with blue, and creatures like the snallygaster–typically bird-esque–with yellow. Investigated stories they agreed to mark with white. The Cumberland dragon was the only one with Nellie debating on the snallygaster.

“It’s just weird thinking of it as a dragon,” Nellie said.

“Adjact.”

“Your dad heard about the trouble, interfered just on a whim to use me as bait–.”

“Was it a whim,” Morgan asked. “From my perspective, there was a creature the Order of Ferblanc couldn’t handle–weird enough–so he decided to dangle you out to see if it reacted.”

She marked the snallygaster with a white tab and set it on top of the Cumberland dragon notes. It was hard to think of the creature in the same way she thought of the Cumberland dragon, but Morgan’s assessment of the Regere’s thoughts could not be ignored either.

She had been told finding dragons was unusual, right up there with her having Ash in her life. She was two for two, still firmly the weird kid.

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she remembered Ira was also the weird kid by those metrics.

---

Mrs. Adams had them dress in their formal wear that afternoon. It had spread among them that Prince Ira would be visiting, and they fidgeted and buzzed at each other while they waited in the sweltering heat outside the grand front doors.

A black luxury car crept up the drive, coming to a halt with the front turned back down the drive. The driver hurried to the door, paused to straighten himself, and then opened.

Nellie raised her hand enthusiastically, but her enthusiasm dipped with her hand just as Lilac’s and Ava’s joy went up a notch, captured by short squeals.

Ira’s golden hair was a shade darker with the amount of mousse in it to keep it perfectly in place. His shirt was pressed with the sleeves carefully rolled and stitched into three-quarters. His dress pants had a subtle checkered pattern that matched the lapels of the dark blazer he carried over his shoulder. He carried a leather case in his other hand, and Nellie couldn’t help noticing that it matched his absurdly polished shoes.

“Your highness,” Mrs Adams said solemnly, bending her knee with great effort. She motioned at Arch. “Mr. Archibald Willoughby will see to your needs while you’re with us.”

“Thank you,” Ira said crisply. “Has the stable been prepared?”

“Yes, highness,” Mrs. Adams said, gesturing for Arden and Fin to step from line. “These will be the attendants.”

“No need for that,” Ira said. “My room?”

Mrs. Adams shooed them to the side to usher Ira in out of the heat. They hovered, peering through into the foyer.

“I should…,” Arch trailed off. He slid through them, into the house, and disappeared up the staircase.

“Awesome,” Arden said, breaking the silence. “I was told not to do chores by royalty. Mrs. Adams can’t say anything.”

“Do you think it’s safe to change,” Brody asked, tugging his collared shirt. “I’m boiling.”

“I change clothes if you do,” Calix said, slipping from his suit jacket.

“Same,” Fin said.

The three of them headed off to change with Arden a step behind, still bragging that he was let out of chores.

“I’m not staying dressed up for him,” Morgan grumbled. He said something to Itzel, presumably asking if she wanted to change, and they both headed indoors.

Lilac swayed in her billowy peach and pink dress. She spread the long layers of skirt and did half a twirl.

“I’m going to the garden,” she announced. “The larkspur is still in bloom.”

“We should change too,” Ava said. “It’s still at least four hours until supper, and you know that’ll be formal.” She sighed dreamily. “He’s much more handsome than you said. Straight out of a fairytale!”

Nellie didn’t comment beyond a forced smile as she strode across the entryway towards the stairs. The perfect, polished prince was not the Ira she knew. He was much colder, more detached. He had not so much as glanced at her when he arrived.

She was slipping her feet into her sneakers when a firm knock sounded on her door. She grabbed her other shoe. “It’s unlocked,” she called out.

“You stopped texting.” Ira laughed awkwardly. “Well, didn’t give you much reason to keep it up, did I?”

He still wore the dress pants, but had changed his buttoned shirt for a loose fitting, plain t-shirt. His hair was still terribly stiff and unnatural.

“Are you supposed to be talking to me,” Nellie asked.

“Are you cross because I ignored you outside,” Ira asked, smirking. She reddened but he was looking at his nails, or pretending to. “Truth be told, I’m not sure how all right it is for us to be chummy. It very well could ruin the social life you’re building here.”

Nellie scoffed, “How?”

Ira gestured down himself incredulously. “I don’t know if you’ve caught on, Nellie, but I’m a prince.”

It had been a shock learning the guy who crashed on her couch a few times was royalty. She could clearly see Ira with his disheveled hair and old AC/DC shirt, politely trying to drink old, soggy, bagged tea.

She shrugged. “So?”

“Cheers,” Ira said, smiling weakly. “But, others may not feel that way about my status.”

“I’m already the odd one with Morgan being my cousin,” Nellie pointed out.

Ira conceded with a nod. He crossed his arms and braced himself against the wall next to the door.

“I was going to head over to the stables shortly to wait for Cecily. Would you care to follow?”

Nellie was about to answer when her door was thrown open, causing her to fall off the edge of her bed. 

“Morgan,” Nellie hissed, massaging her back as she stood. “What if I was changing?”

“Then, I'd hope you’d have your door locked,” Morgan said. He glared at Ira out of the corner of his eye. “You should lock it to stop people wandering in.”

“Good to see you again, Master Morgan,” Ira said in monotone.

“Highness,” Morgan said, nodding. He sauntered over to Nellie and plopped the plastic filing case on her bed. “We need but a moment, sir, then you’re free to go wander off and ignore us little folk.”

“Not now, Morgan,” Nellie said. “Ira just got here. He’s probably jetlegged.”

“All the more reason to knock this out quickly,” Morgan said stubbornly.

There was a twitch in Ira’s jaw that was either from annoyance or trying not to laugh. He kept his face neutral and eyes trained on Morgan’s small, skinny frame.

“What’ve you got,” Ira said after a long pause.

Morgan’s face lit up, but he covered it with a sneer so quickly that Nellie wasn’t sure Ira caught it. He unclasped the case and held it open to Ira with a superior air.

Ira peered in curiously.

“I started gathering notes on all the dragon lore I could find,” Morgan said. “As Nellie’s blood, I’m honorbound to help her find her mother.”

“Is that a fact,” Ira said, slightly bored, glancing from the case to Morgan. “May I?”

They crowded around Nellie’s bed. Nellie explained the labeling system as Ira picked through the pictures and notes. Morgan explained his dragon adjunct picks with his chest puffed out.

Ira froze with a picture of the Welsh flag in his hand. His clear, blue eyes were fixed on the image with intensity to burn through it.

“Ira?” Nellie touched his arm, causing him to jump.

“So sorry,” he said. He pinched his eyes. “I suppose I am more jetlagged than I thought.” He backed away from the bed. “Shall we try again tomorrow? I planned on taking a day for Cecily and me to rest before setting back out.”

“You can’t just tell us which dragons you’ve already faced and leave us alone,” Morgan asked.

“Morgan,” Nellie hissed, elbowing him.

Ira smiled wryly. He excused himself again, and left the room. Nellie assumed he was heading for the stables.

They were repacking the filing case when a knock sounded on her door.

“See,” she said to Morgan, “it’s normal to knock first. It’s open!”

Arch stood there looking bewildered. “Umm… I think I’ve lost his highness… Any chance you heard him walk by?”

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

Getting some setup. I named Arden's mom Brittany, because I thought it would be funny to have a very sterotypical 80s/90s name floating around.

I was going to have Morgan answer Arch with a 'no didn't see him, omg you disappointment' and Nellie directing him to the stables, but it wasn't really needed.