Conleth’s fingertips brushed something soft, soggy, and revolting. With a twist of his wrist, he extracted a sock.
“That could be anyone’s,” Archie said quickly.
“Indeed.” Conleth handed him the dripping sock, as the toilet basin gurgled and began to drain at last. “Then if you happen to meet someone else who has lost a junior-sized blue sock patterned with orange paw prints, perhaps you could give this to them. Now go wash your hands. Thoroughly.”
With a parting glare, Archie slunk out of the cubicle, leaving Conleth to the unpleasant task of mopping up the puddle. Still, it could have been far worse. At least it hadn’t occurred to Archie to use the toilet first.
He flushed the toilet one last time to make sure it was working again, then went to join his campers. The boys from all the other packs had long since finished in the washroom and left for their cabins. Only Finley, Ignatius, and Rufus still remained at the long row of sinks.
Turning on the water, Conleth started soaping his right arm up to the shoulder. “Hurry up and brush your teeth, Archie. It’s meant to be lights out in five minutes.”
“I forgot my toothbrush,” Archie informed him.
Conleth sighed. “Of course you did.”
“You can have one of mine, Archie,” Finley offered. “Don’t worry, I have plenty spare. Shark shifters get through a lot of toothbrushes.”
Archie shot Finley a look that clearly said:Traitor.
“Is everyone else ready for bed?” Conleth asked the rest of the boys.
“Some of us were ready an hour ago,” Ignatius muttered. “Can I please go fall into merciful oblivion for eight hours? Or even better, the rest of the summer?”
“I wanted to have a private word with you first, Ignatius.” Conleth checked in with his pegasus to make sure none of the boys from other packs were lingering within earshot. “About Paige.”
Archie, who was now brushing his teeth with extreme resentment, stiffened.
“What about her?” Ignatius pulled a face, lip curling. “I warn you, if you’re about to beg me to play Cupid, I’m going to lie face-down in the shower and attempt to drown myself.”
“It’s nothing to do with the fact that she’s my mate.” The last thing Conleth wanted to do was discussthatwith any of the children. “It’s about what else she is. Or to be more accurate, isn’t.”
“Ah.” Ignatius’s wary expression shifted into understanding. “You’re concerned about my uncle finding out that she isn’t a shifter.”
Rufus cocked his head. Like Archie, his mouth was full of toothpaste, but that was no impediment for someone who didn’t use his voice to talk.
*But non-shifters are allowed at Camp Thunderbird now.*As a fellow mythic shifter, Conleth could hear Rufus’s telepathic words as clearly as if the boy was speaking them aloud.*Your uncle agreed it was okay.*
“Only because Buck would have fried him with lighting if he hadn’t,” Ignatius replied. Even though the boy couldn’t shift yet, he was still a dragon, and thus able to pick up on Rufus’s telepathy as well. “And believe me, he’s still furious about the whole business. He only let me come back to camp this year because my mom persuaded him the other dragon clan leaderswould start asking embarrassing questions if he didn’t. Everyone knows he’s put a lot of money in this place.”
“He has indeed,” Conleth said. “And, speaking as the camp’s former manager, it would be awkward if anything made Lord Golden reconsider his generosity.”
“What do you think I am, an idiot?” Ignatius rolled his eyes. “If he knew one of my counselors this year was some random human, he’d fly here to fetch me home himself. Of course I’m not going to tell him.”
Conleth let out his breath. He could have easily funded the camp with his own personal wealth—though it would have taken some creative accountancy to avoid Zephyr catching on—but the camp still needed Lord Golden’s goodwill. The dragon had an immense amount of social power in the shifter community. It would be all too easy for him to destroy the camp’s reputation.
“I hate having to ask you to keep this to yourself,” he said. “I realize it puts you in an awkward position.”
Ignatius shrugged. “Sometimes it’s better if he doesn’t know things. I haven’t told my uncle there’s a wyrm here, either. Now that really would make him go nuclear.”
“Why?” Finley asked curiously. “The wyrms have been isolated on their hidden island for centuries. I know they warred with dragons in the past, but I thought that was all ancient history.”
“It probably is ancient history.” Ignatius didn’t sound all that concerned. “If there’s one thing my family is good at, it’s holding a grudge. I expect some wyrm stole a copper coin from my great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather’s hoard, and my uncle is still fuming about it. Anyway, you don’t need to worry about him. I know how to keep a secret.”
“I appreciate your discretion.” Conleth dried his hands. He would really have liked to disinfect the entire surface of his skinwith bleach, but it would have to do for now. “That’s enough brushing, Archie. Stop dawdling.”
“Why?” Archie said indistinctly. He was giving such careful attention to each individual tooth, it was a wonder he wasn’t wearing holes in his enamel. “Got somewhere to be?”
“Yes, and so do you.” In a blur of speed, Conleth plucked the toothbrush from the boy’s fingers. “You know perfectly well that you’re supposed to be in your cabin.”
