The sun was starting to set and Amias still had not turned up. Nellie sat out on the patio to enjoy the pink and gold sky while she waited, her feet propped up on a poofy ottoman. The lightning bugs were starting to twinkle on the woodline in the distance.
The sliding door opened some feet behind her.
“--be glad to get home,” Ava said. “It’s fun enough here, but I miss my friends.”
“What about that one girl,” her mom asked. “Isn’t she in your school?”
“Yeah… but it’s not the same,” Ava muttered. “I didn’t even bother inviting her to come with us tonight.”
Nellie slumped lower in her chair and slowly brought her legs to her chest, curling into a time ball to be as small as possible. It worked, and the Wagners passed without noticing her.
She sat with the sky darkening to red and the lightning bugs coming out in full force, her head full of a dull buzzing. It would make perfect sense for Ava to miss Emma, Olivia, and Sophia. They’d all known each other since elementary school. There was still something about what Ava said, about her tone, that was causing Nellie’s chest to tighten and the corners of her eyes to prickle.
“Good evening, my lamb. Were you waiting out for me?”
Amias still looked like a younger, tanner Victor Price. He held the handle of a sleek roller back in one hand, the other holding the strap of an overstuffed leather satchel across his body.
Nellie launched herself off the chair, and threw her arms around his middle, nearly knocking him back down the steps. She gave a sob as he patted her auburn waves.
“I wasn’t aware we crossed into this familiarity, my dear, but I’m glad of it,” Amias teased. He put his arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. “There, there. Come, let’s go inside. The nastier nature wakes up when the sun goes down.”
They settled in the small den where the kids typically gathered to read their letters. It was dark and quiet, out of the way of the more common gathering areas like the large parlor, living room, and dining room.
Amias left briefly to make a cup of tea; Nellie declining his offer to make her a cup too with the summer heat seeping in through the slightly opened window. He propped his foot on his knee, gave his cup a smooth blow, and sipped.
“Ah, better,” he sighed. “Now then, my dear, you looked quite distressed. Anything your godfather can help with?”
“Not unless you speak teenaged girl better than I do,” Nellie muttered.
“Alas, not one of my many talents.” He smiled sympathetically. “Brue was a misfit magnet. I’m sure she went to her mother with such hardships as you have.”
“So… does that make you a misfit,” Nellie asked, a small smirk forming on her lips.
“Bite your tongue,” Amias said, hiding his own smirk behind his tea cup.
They spent the next fifteen minutes talking about little things. Amias and Nathalie apparently kept in touch with the occasion text or email, and she told him how she was unable to visit. He offered to substitute for her. He hadn’t seen much of the Regere since he returned from dropping off Morgan, typically accompanying Morgan’s mother Evora who was now very busy meeting various heads of state.
Nellie mentioned that Ira had come back to have similar meetings with chapters of the Order of Ferblanc and the Keepers. She did not mention the Piasa Bird, but she caught Amias eyeing the scar from her recently removed stitches once or twice.
“It sounds an awful lot like there really will be a new country,” Nellie said. “That’s so weird.”
“How so?”
“I guess I just think of the countries as set in stone,” she said. “But they aren’t. Even now, you get countries that fall and rise and everything in between. It’s just… weird.”
“It isn’t as common as it was, but, yes, they do change,” Amias said. He frowned into his empty cup and set it aside. “It’ll be good for the Auctorita to have true stability. We’ve had deals fail before because we were seen as illegitimate having no real boundaries. And, perhaps, I’ll have a title that means something instead of just ‘that dashing man following Evora at times’. My resume looks like it has a fifteen year gap in it.”
“Oi, Nellie, are you—Oh?” Arch appeared in the doorway. He straightened himself with a curious eye on Amias. “Sorry. Didn’t know Nellie had any visitors.” He pointed over his shoulder. “Mrs. Adams called us for supper five minutes ago. She’ll be cross if you’re any later.”
Nellie jumped to her feet. “Arch, this is my godfather Amias. Arch is a mage.”
“I recognized one of my own,” Aimas said with a nod.
“Amias…? Hang on, you aren’t Amias Baig, are you,” Arch asked. His mouth slowly dropped open on Amias’s–not at all bashful–nod. “You–you’re a founding member of the Auctorita!”
“You are?”
“I am,” Amias said smugly.
“Oh, sir, allow me to shake your hand,” Arch said, hurrying over and enthusiastically yanking Amias’s hand up and down. “As a mage, sir, it’s an honor. You’ve taught the Regere himself a thing or two!”
“You did?”
“I did, yes,” Amias said, enjoying the attention. He freed himself from Arch. “Care to show us to the dining room? I haven’t graced these halls in an age. I don’t remember where it is.”
Arch giddily led the way from the den. Nellie would not have been terribly shocked if he started skipping. She slowed her pace a bit to force Amias to do the same, putting a few extra feet between them and their escort.
“I thought the Regere was an all powerful mage,” Nellie asked in a low voice. “The magic I sense off him is…” She didn’t want to use ‘weird’ anymore, and crazy seemed just as bad.
“Quite, but he’s young,” Amias said. He gave a snort, shaking his head. “Probably stupid we appointed him the leader when the Auctorita formed, as young as he was, but it has all turned out for the best. Brue was a big part of that. She grounded him. Played the big sister role beautifully.” He pat her shoulder. “Now, my lamb, allow me to enjoy all this extra attention a moment.” He sped up to walk in step with Arch. “Have you heard about the disastrous time the Regere and I had outside Kabul?”
Amias was exuberantly greeted by Silas, and introduced to Brittney. The three of them seemed to grow louder and louder, and crowded the head of the table swapping stories. The kids were almost ignored; Mrs. Adams still kept a sharp eye on them from the end of the table to stop them from horsing around too much or using poor etiquette.
Morgan kicked her under the table. “You could have told me you were waiting for Amias,” he sulked. “We would’ve had a few moments together to speak of things.”
“Things urgent enough for you to assault me,” Nellie grumbled. She speared a roasted potato.
“He’s a link to my father, and do you remember what I was asking my father about on your behalf,” Morgan asked. His eyes darted to Fin, Itzel, Brody, and Arden, double checking that they were consumed with whatever it was they were talking about. “He’s supposed to tell us where your father is.”
“I don’t think that’s secret enough for you to be kicking me,” Nellie said.
Morgan huffed, and tore a large chuck of meat off his chicken thigh with his teeth.
“Master Morgan,” Mrs. Adams called down, “manners!”
Amias was having too much fun with Silas and Brittney, so Nellie, Morgan, and the other children were dismissed from the table by Mrs. Adams without much acknowledgement from the adults. Morgan huffed and fumed the entire way up to his room. Nellie was glad to be rid of him.
Nellie detangled her auburn waves in front of her vanity mirror, not really seeing herself. She hadn’t considered that Amias would be coming with news of Rhys. She hadn’t given her father much thought since Morgan said he’d ask for her, partly assuming–or hoping–he was ignored.
There was also the sick feeling she got when she remembered what she overheard Ava saying that evening. Her mind leapt back to when Ira picked her up so many months ago, asked her if the girls were friends, and Nellie’s instinct said they were not. It was possible that instinct was right all along.
Ira said people like them could make friends, but said he hadn’t. He tried to brush it off as the social differences between boys and girls–and it turned out he was a prince so that surely had some impact too–but Nellie couldn’t stop thinking he could’ve been lying to give her hope. False hope, like about finding Brue.
Penny still believed she would find Keena Fox despite having no memories of her.
Nellie scribbled on the notepad next to her bed: Text Penny. Ask if people like us make friends. Then, she crawled under the covers on her sleigh style bed, and passed out.
---
Amias was in the den the next morning wearing a velveteen dressing gown over his satin green pajama set. He had a newspaper resting against his knee and a small cup of coffee in his hand halfway to his lips.
“Ah, good morning,” he greeted. “Sleep all right? I was up half the night myself due to nature sounds.” He shuddered. “Crickets and coyotes and that blasted big foot.”
“Did you only come here because I had no visitors, or did the Regere send you with a message,” Nellie asked plainly.
He glanced into his cup, took a drink, and set it aside with his brows furrowed. He folded up his newspaper and set it across his lap like a paper blanket.
“Just jumping right into it with both feet this morning, are we? Two things can be true, Perenelle. Yes, I wanted to see you and Nathalie and I thought I should visit since she could not.” He heaved a breath. “And, yes, the Regere gave me a message to take along.”
“Which came first,” Nellie asked. “The message or you planning to visit?”
“Does that matter?” He groaned as she folded her arms. “Of course it does. You are so very like your father at times. It’s astounding. My visit came first, my lamb, since you insist on knowing. I was packing my socks, specifically, when Evora came to ask me to dinner. She asked why, I said I was going to visit you and Master Morgan, she said ‘oh perfect timing’ and had me go speak to the Regere to see if he even wanted me to pass on the message.”
“Which he did.”
“Yes; which he did,” Amias said. He smiled weakly. “Does that satisfy you?”
It made her feel a lot better knowing she had been Amias’s focus, not being ordered to visit to pass on some message. She gave a small nod and took the chair next to his.
“You’re allowed to come and go as you want then,” Nellie asked.
“I beg your pardon,” Amias said. “Were you under the assumption I needed permission from the Regere for every little thing in my life?” Nellie shrugged. “He’s the leader of the Auctorita, but he doesn’t control our lives. It is as if… What’s an analogy an American pre-teen would understand? I’m drawing a blank.”
“But he is your boss, isn’t he,” Nellie asked. Amias looked horrified at the notion but didn’t correct her. “Can’t he fire you if you don’t obey him? Or worse, with him being an all powerful mage?”
“All powerful is a stretch….”
“Not much of one.”
Nellie jumped at the sudden, cool voice and quickly found Morgan hovering in the doorway with a disgruntled expression on his face. His dark hair was still unkempt from sleep, and he still wore his pajamas and slippers. He held a napkin with both hands that was piled with buttered toast.
“I was waiting for you in the dining hall,” Morgan said. “Thought we’d eat and then go speak to Amias. Together.”
“I wasn’t hungry,” Nellie said, quickly adding, “then,” as her stomach gave a rumble.
Morgan’s scowl deepened.
“Now, now, Master Morgan, nothing has been said,” Amias said, a hint of pleading in his tone. “Come. Sit. You can have my seat if you wish. I plan on dropping off my cup once I’ve delivered the message anyhow.”
A rush of anger flared in Nellie’s chest as Morgan went and settled himself into Amias’s chair. He still looked disgruntled at the very idea that they would speak without him but there was now a smugness in his expression.
“What if I don’t want Morgan to hear the message,” Nellie asked, narrowing her eyes at her cousin.
Amias paled. His eyes darted from Nellie to Morgan–now glaring back at her–and back. He silently pleaded not to be put in that situation, but Nellie stubbornly folded her arms and crossed her legs.
“Master Morgan,” Amias said, his voice higher, “would you mind terribly to—?”
Morgan leapt up. He threw down the toast on the small table between the chair and stormed from the den.
Amias sank back into the empty chair while Nellie salvaged the toast. She was starting to get very hungry.
“Why must you antagonize him,” Amias muttered.
“Why must you cater to him,” Nellie asked. “He’s acting like a spoiled brat.”
“He is.”
“Well, I’m not in the mood for it today,” Nellie said. She took a large bite of her toast, disappointed that it was now cold so more like wet, buttered cardboard. “I’ll tell him the message later. So… what is it?”
“China,” Amias said plainly. “The Regere last had eyes on the Commander in China.”
“China,” Nellie said slowly. “That’s… broad. He doesn’t have a city or something to go off?”
“If he did, he did not mention them,” Amias said. “All he said was to tell you that Rhys was in China. I must say, I was rather shocked by that. Brue wouldn’t have been caught dead in China as a human.” He shivered. “Dreadful place. I’ve seen what they do to street food there.”
She doubted Rhys would have been loitering around the city streets if he really was in China. The countryside, particularly the mountains, did look mystical in pictures she’d seen. She imagined it would be a good place for a dragon to live.
How Rhys, a blond European, was supposed to get to those mountains was an entirely different question. From what little Nellie knew about the country, it did not exactly like outsiders wandering around without escort and she highly doubted he would have let a government official know why he was really there.
“Does the Auctorita work in China,” Nellie asked.
“My lamb, the Auctorita is truly global,” Amias said proudly. “We have footholds everywhere. Why, I believe we even send a researcher or two to Antarctica. For what end, I have no idea.”
“Does Rhys have any sway with members,” Nellie asked. “If he asked them to smuggle him into the country and out of the cities, would they?”
“Very likely, though I imagine that would put them at risk, and I’m unsure he would do that to lowly footsoldiers having once been one himself.”
She wondered if Amias meant they would be in trouble with the Regere or the Chinese government, but did not ask which. Hearing how far her uncle’s reach went was enough to cause the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle. It was no wonder why Nathalie and Uncle Winston were so wary of him. That type of power and control was too much for anyone.
“Thanks, Amias,” Nellie said, rocking up to her feet. “I’m going to go tell Morgan.”
“Rather fast, isn’t it?”
She shrugged and left Amias to his newspaper. She didn’t have to go far to find Morgan. He was waiting around the next turn in the hall with his hazel eyes narrowed at her.
“You think I'm a spoilt brat,” he accused.
“You are, and you relish in it,” Nellie pressed. She crossed her arms. “Did you eavesdrop on the whole conversation?”
“Only long enough to hear you and that pompous fool laughing over what you really think of me.”
Nellie eyed him, frowning. There was an extra shine to his eyes. Morgan really did have hurt feelings over what he heard.
“We didn’t laugh a single time that conversation, for your information,” Nellie said. She sighed. “Rhys is supposedly in China. So, I guess cross-referencing anything with him is out of the question.” She smiled weakly. “End of the road, cous. Thanks for all the help. Let’s just enjoy the rest of summer break. Want to have a go at target practice? Callix said he’d teach—.”
“You quit too easy,” Morgan interrupted. He started to pace the hall. “China…. The Orient has a wealth of dragon lore, of course.”
“Are you… supposed to call it that?”
“I have a handful in my notes already,” Morgan went on, ignoring her. “We can narrow his location. Get a message to him.”
Her stomach lurched at the plausibility of Morgan’s plan. Amias already said the Auctorita had people all over the world. If Morgan asked his parents to pass a message to Rhys, there was no reason why they wouldn’t try.
Nellie stopped at her room first to grab the box of Rhys’s letters before joining Morgan in his room. They had correctly assumed that no one would go knocking on Morgan’s door, so now always looked over their dragon related items in his room rather than in Nellie’s or the library.
She scanned through the letters, reading only random phrases, while Morgan searched their file case and consulted the globe. She had thought about Rhys returning more often than naught since she was told about him. She was interested to meet–or get reacquainted–with the man that wrote so diligently to his big sister, but Morgan’s point about how much her life would change hung over her.
“These are the most prominent ones I have,” Morgan said, laying out the notes all with an artistic rendering. “Futs-long; says it dwells underground so an exact location is harder to find.” He slid the notes with a deep, orange dragon with a snake-like body to the side. “Shenlong; a sky dweller, so also not a clear location. But, my bet is the mountains where not many humans are.” He slid the notes with a deep, blue dragon also with a snake-like body to the side.
“These seem too specific,” Nellie said.
“Dragons are heavily featured in Chinese mythology,” Morgan said. “They have dragon gods for almost everything. Futs-long supposedly makes earthquakes. Shenlong makes rain.”
“Yeah… way too specific,” Nellie said. She scanned through the notes on Shenlong. “This sounds more like Zeus than a dragon story. …Zeus isn’t real, right?”
Morgan rolled his eyes and started flipping through his notes. “With migration, we should include the zmey gorynich out of Russia. Or the yamata no orochi of Japan. Ryujin seems more in the thought of these dragon gods.” He passed over the notes. “Kirin are generic. We can include them. Oh, and phaya naga. I’d say that’s an excellent candidate with the India connection and the,” he gestured to himself and Nellie, “the India connection.”
“Oh. Right.” Nellie looked at her tanned arm. “I keep forgetting that.”
“I don’t give it any thought either,” Morgan said, shrugging. “Our grandfather dislikes me and my father, and our white, American grandmother raised him as American as she could despite living in London.” He gave his pulled notes a satisfied nod. “This is a starting point.”
The flaming river dragon glared out from the top of the pile. Rhys had been looking for Brue for a decade. He must’ve thought of phaya nagas before now. Perhaps he looked in the Indian rivers, and could only now get into China. Or, Morgan’s theory that human genetics played a role was complete bunk.
“I still have no way of knowing Brue when we find her,” Nellie said, pushing the notes aside. She muttered, “If we find her.”
“You've been so negative lately,” Morgan said. “Summer camp not as rosy as you thought?”
She shot him a glower, but stayed quiet. Morgan did not need to know anything about her worries regarding Ava or making friends generally. He either wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t care, or encourage her to ignore everyone except him.
“What are we supposed to do now,” Nellie asked, steering the conversation back. “I don’t know if I want to send a message to Rhys. I don’t know what to say.”
“Ask him to come back,” Morgan said as if it was obvious.
“Ask him to stop looking?”
“No. Just to come back.”
She sighed and flopped back on Morgan’s bed. “He’s been looking for a decade. He’s not just going to drop everything and come running back because I ask.”
Morgan grabbed one of his pillows and curled around it. He stared but his eyes were distant as if looking at something far away and not at Nellie.
“I’ve been told, countless times now, that your father loved you and only left because searching for your mother was dangerous,” Morgan murmured, half into the pillow. His grip tightened. “You have nothing else to contradict that. You should hold onto it.”
“Nothing to… He did leave and never reach out,” Nellie said. “That’s a big contradiction.”
His eyes fixed on her. “My parents aren’t in love. I was born to fill a role, not because of love. Or to love.” He glared. “Hold onto these stories that your father loved you for as long as you can, Nellie, because the alternative does not feel good.” He flopped over and turned his back to her. “Think I’ll catch a nap before afternoon sparring.”
It was awkward sitting there while Morgan pretended to sleep. Nellie headed out with the box of her father’s letters in her hands. She stood with her back pressed on Morgan’s door, feeling the weight of Rhys’s words to Nathalie in her hand a moment before setting off to find her godfather.
----------------------
This took so long to type that I forgot things like Arch being the escort into the dining room and what Amias was wearing in the morning. But, you get a bunch of dragins mentioned in this. Most are from my pretty dragon book, so I'll put up pictures in the chat. I wanted to describe them more since they're cool looking, but they are just looking at random internet drawings and not facing the real thing. Some dragons, like Futs-long, Shenlong, Jormungandr, Quetzelcoatl, ect. are very, very specific where it's a character and not just a dragon, so those would not be candidates (as Nellie rightly assumes). That does actually narrow out just about every Chinese dragon. They question of if those specific dragons are/were real or pure myth is a completely separate matter.
