Page 4 of The Last Kelpie

“Why doesn't he fix it?”

“Because then he'd have nothing to complain about.”

I was staring. I knew I was staring, but I couldn't help it. The myths weren't specimens that the Velasca studied, documented, or preserved behind glass. They were just living their lives. Eating breakfast. Arguing about toast, coffee, and dry air. The humans didn't treat them like curiosities. They were just people who belonged there.

“And that's—”

Something large and golden crashed into my legs.

I stumbled backward, fell onto a chair, and looked down to find a griffin staring up at me with enormous amber eyes. It was about the size of a Labrador, with a golden eagle's head and feathered wings attached to a tawny lion's body. Its beak looked sharp enough to take off fingers, but it made a noise that sounded distinctly like purring.

“That's Zephyr.” Julian smiled indulgently as he sat down across the table from me. “He's young and playful.”

“That explains his size.” I went still. The griffin was climbing into my lap using claws that should have been terrifying but somehow weren't. He settled across my thighs like an oversized cat. “Uh, is this normal?”

“For Zephyr? Absolutely.”

The griffin's feathers were impossibly soft. I touched them without thinking, running my fingers through the golden down near the skin of his neck, and Zephyr made that purring sound again, louder.

“He likes you,” someone said.

I looked up. A tall man with warm brown skin and kind dark eyes stood nearby, holding a cup of tea. He wore a white shirt beneath a practical medical coat embroidered with subtle golden vines.

“Dr. Ravi Kapoor.” Julian motioned to the man. “This is our head physician. He's the one who keeps telling Marina that her skin isn't actually cracking.”

“That's the woman by the window?” I looked toward her.

“Yes, it's psychosomatic.” Ravi rolled his eyes. “But try telling a mermaid that.”

“I can hear you!” Marina called from across the room.

“I know.” Ravi smiled at me. “Welcome to the Velasca, Ethan.” He walked away.

“Thank you,” I called after him.

Around us, breakfast continued. Mateo shouted about proper nutrition. A woman with chestnut curls and a bright yellow dress strode through the room, taking notes, her pen moving so fast it was almost a blur.

Julian followed my gaze. “Eleanor Finley, she's our chief librarian. She knows everything that happens in the Velasca approximately five minutes before it happens.”

“How?”

“We're still not sure.” He chuckled.

“Zephyr, no!” Eleanor pointed at the griffin on my lap.

Zephyr, who'd been doing nothing, lifted his head to glare at her.

“I know what you're going to do.” She wagged her finger.

Zephyr jumped down and squawked at her.

“Come on.” Julian stood up. “Let's get you some coffee before Brannoc destroys the machine.”

We navigated through the tables, past people who nodded at Julian and smiled at me. No one looked at me as if I were an outsider, which was strange because I definitely was.

The beverage table had a line of drink dispensers, with several types of juice and cold water. Then there were industrial-sized coffee urns, and similar urns holding hot water. Canisters of tea with a bowl of tea balls stood nearby. The espresso machine was industrial-sized as well, and sounded as if it were dying. Brannoc glared at it with the intensity of someone planning murder. Up close, I could see the metal in his beard was rings, and his eyes were bright blue.

“This,” Brannoc announced to no one in particular, “is an insult to craftsmanship.”