“Of course it does.” For the benefit of the children, Conleth put on his most confident smile. “So I can promise you all that this camp will still be standing by the time you’re old enough to come here. Prophecy or no prophecy.”
“And when Uncle Conleth says something will happen, you can be sure it will,” Beth said, looking happier at last. She turned to the other kids. “Don’t worry, everyone. In a few years, we’re going to have the best summer ever. Uncle Conleth will make sure of that.”
Her eyes shone with pure, innocent faith. Looking down at his niece, Conleth had a sinking sense of inevitable doom.
He’d known for a while now that it was going to come to this. It had been painfully obvious since he’d sat down and written out all the skills the camp manager was going to need, and compared them to the pitifully small salary that Zephyr could afford. All the searching and interviews had simply been delaying the inevitable.
“I’m looking forward to having you here as campers when you’re all old enough,” Zephyr said to the kids, oblivious to Conleth’s racing thoughts. “Now, who wants to see the cabins?”
“Dibs on a top bunk!” Estelle yelled. “I called it first!”
“Estelle, we’re not coming to camp for ages,” Beth said to her.
The other girl shrugged. “Well, you’d better remember I called it first.”
If Zephyr didn’t have a camp manager, it wasn’t going to matter that Estelle had called dibs first. None of the kids would be coming to camp in a few years. There wouldn’tbea camp.
There was only one solution. It was the last thing he wanted to do… but he couldn’t let the kids down.
The problem was, Zephyr would never agree to it. Unfortunately, Conleth had already made it all too clear that he had no desire to work at the camp on a permanent basis—though not, of course, for the reason Zephyr thought. It had been hard enough to convince the man to let him run the business side of things this long. If he offered to stay, Zephyr would only say no.
Which was why Conleth had no intention of giving him a choice in the matter.
Beth tugged at his sleeve. “Come on, Uncle Conleth. I want to see my future cabin!”
“You go on with Zephyr,” he told her, a plan already starting to fall into place in his head. “I need to talk to someone, but I’ll catch up with you shortly.”
Zephyr gave him a suspicious look. “That sounds like an excuse to run for the horizon. I still intend to thank you for all your help in my speech. You’d better not be plotting to escape.”
“No,” Conleth replied, with absolute honesty. “I’m not.”
It wasn’t hard to locate Joe. Conleth barely even had to use his pegasus senses. The sea dragon prince stood out in any crowd, and not just because of his towering height.
“And so I said to the octopus shifter, wait, ifthat’syour eighth tentacle, then what’s touching my—” Joe broke off from relaying a no doubt filthy anecdote to an admiring audience as Conleth grabbed his arm. “Hey, bro. Awesome place you’ve built here. I’m almost jealous of the kids. Don’t suppose I could persuade you to let parents come as well?”
“Why don’t we discuss it,” Conleth said, teeth clenched behind his casual smile. Out of sight of anyone else, he dug his fingernails into Joe’s forearm. “Right now.”
The sea dragon blinked, but he let Conleth drag him to a secluded spot. “I take it you don’t really want to discuss camp policies. What’s up?”
Conleth checked with his pegasus senses to make sure no one was in earshot. “You remember that time when we were fourteen, and your mother held that big formal event to welcome the delegation from the Pacific deep-sea dragon clans?”
“Random, but yes. Vividly. Why?”
“Did your mother ever find out what happened with the motorbike, the celebration cake, and the ambassador’s daughter?”
Joe shuddered. “Obviously not, since I’m standing here with my intestines still inside my body.”
“Do youwanther to find out?”
The sea dragon squinted at him. “Why do I feel like I’m being blackmailed?”
“Because I’m blackmailing you,” Conleth informed him. “I need you to have a vision.”
Joe spread his hands. “I’m not a vending machine, bro. The sea shows me what it chooses, when it chooses. You can’t swipe a credit card through my butt cheeks and expect me to spit out the future on demand.”
“Let me be more clear.” Even though he was sure they were alone, Conleth lowered his voice. “Here’s what you’re going to see.”
Conleth had to give Joe credit. He’d been afraid the sea dragon would torpedo his plan by putting on some dramatic, over-the-top performance, instantly giving the whole game away.
