“How do you know, Zephyr?” asked Estelle.
“Because a few years ago, I was given a vision of the future.” Zephyr smiled at Finley. “By a very powerful, very wise sea dragon seer.”
Finley’s narrow chest lifted with pride. “My dad?”
“That’s right.” Zephyr crouched to put himself on eye level with the kids. “And do you know what he saw?”
All four children shook their heads, wide-eyed as owls.
“You, and you, and you, and you.” Zephyr lightly tapped each child’s nose, making Estelle giggle. “Most of you hadn’t even been born yet, but he saw you as older than you are now. A true pack of strong, brave friends, always there for each other. And he saw you right here, at this camp.”
Rufus’s blond hair shadowed his face. His mouth didn’t move, but his soft, tentative telepathic voice whispered in their minds:*Even me?*
Zephyr smiled at him, dark eyes warm. “Especially you.”
Rufus didn’t smile back. Facial expressions didn’t come as naturally to him as they did for neurotypical children. But his shoulders eased a little.
Zephyr rose, dusting off his knees. “That’s why I’m confident this camp will thrive and grow over the next few years. Because one day, you’ll all be campers here.”
“May I remind you that Joe seespossiblevisions of the future,” Conleth said, unable to restrain his exasperation. “You cannot base a business plan on blind faith, Zephyr.”
Beth’s expression crumpled in sudden doubt. “You mean the camp mightnotbe here by the time we’re old enough, Uncle Conleth?”
He kicked himself for letting any of his current problems slip out in front of the kids. “Of course you’ll be able to come to camp, in due course. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“But…” Beth bit her lip. “Only, I heard you talking to Daddy after dinner the other day, and you said it would be a miracle if this camp lasted longer than a single summer.”
Zephyr shot him a reproachful look.
“That was taken out of context,” Conleth told him, although it hadn’t. He made a mental note to have a word with his brother about the acuity of Beth’s hearing. “I was just concerned over the amount of work still left to do before the camp can open, Beth. But I’ll make sure it gets done. Everything is under control.”
“You know Conleth,” Zephyr put in. “He always has a plan. Between his hard work and fate, I’m certain this camp is going to be a success.”
Beth didn’t seem reassured. “But Uncle Conleth isn’t going to be here forever. He’s going back to London soon.”
“That’s why he’s finding a manager to help me run the camp,” Zephyr said. He flashed Conleth a wry glance. “Someone who’ll roll their eyes at me whenever I’m being naïve, just like he does.”
Conleth rolled his eyes.
“How come Conleth can’t stay?” Estelle asked.
“Because this camp is my dream, not his,” Zephyr replied. “Conleth has his own hopes and ambitions, none of which involve running a summer camp. I couldn’t ask him to give up his goals for the sake of mine.”
In truth, there was only one thing Conleth truly wanted. And it was the only thing he couldn’t do a single cursed thing to get. Any other goal, he could have made a plan, measured hisprogress, worked tirelessly until he achieved his objective…but not that one.
“I’ve already got all the other staff I need,” Zephyr continued. “If Conleth doesn’t find a camp manager in time, I’m sure we’ll manage to muddle through for one season.”
Conleth pictured Zephyr ‘muddling through’ the accounts, and broke out in a cold sweat. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
Zephyr shrugged. “You’ve written a comprehensive business plan, not to mention several hundred pages of camp procedures. I’m not saying it would be ideal, but I’d manage.”
“Zephyr, you have the financial literacy of a carrot.”
“I’m not entirely incompetent,” Zephyr said, nettled. “I have been paying attention to everything you’ve been trying to teach me.”
“That’s why I said ‘carrot’ rather than ‘plankton.’” Conleth heaved a sigh. “Don’t worry, kids. I’m not going anywhere until I’ve found someone who can keep this place running at a healthy profit margin. Leaving Zephyr to do it would be like pitching a baby bird into a blender.”
“Does your list of requirements for the future camp manager include ‘keep the director’s ego in check with a constant stream of witty insults?’” Zephyr murmured.
