is no copy of them, although we’re attempting to rectify that by scanning them in digitally.”
“Backing things up is never a bad idea,” Cameron observed.
“That’s part of our reason.” Dieter took the next hallway to the left and started leading them down. “The other part is that we’re trying to share what information we have with the Ice Clan. We’re not always on good terms with them, but in this, we have a shared passion. We want to find the mages of this generation. Tracing their families is one of the best ways we know to go about it.”
“Fair enough. I’m surprised you didn’t look at my family before this.”
“We did, in fact. But I believe it was six, seven generations ago. No one was magically active then.”
“Huh. Does magic skip generations like that?”
“It can. It’s part of what makes this so frustrating. And why very little is guaranteed.”
Cameron ruminated on that for a moment, turning it over in his head as he went down a set of stairs and into yet another hallway that looked similar to the one he’d just left. “Alric mentioned once that because I was a twin, he was sure that Cassie had magic too. Is that a genetic rule?”
“It seems to be. Twins are always magical. It’s very, very rare for us to see a male mage who isn’t a twin. It does happen, but I think I’ve only seen it twice in my lifetime.”
“Duuuude.” Cameron let out a whistle. “That’s saying something. I can see why this search has been so frustrating for all of you, then.”
“In older times,” Dieter’s expression turned wistful, “it wasn’t so problematic. Magic was alive and recognized then. If you were magical, you had a clan to go to. Dragon clans at the very least. We didn’t have to hunt for mages like we do now. It was far easier.”
Cameron didn’t know how to respond to that. Except to say, “Well, maybe my family has more mages than I suspect.”
“We all hope for such to be the case.” Dieter flashed him a smile before he opened the door and ushered Cameron in. “Hoheit, we are here.”
“Excellent. Cameron, welcome. Do you have a little time to spare?”
Remembering what Baldewin had said before, Cameron made sure to use a compliment. “I always have time for a handsome man.”
Alric flushed a little. He sat at a polished wooden table, a laptop in front of him and a stack of very old books next to him. Cameron’s compliment wasn’t baseless, as Alric did look yummy. He wore a dark grey cable-knit sweater that did delectable things to his complexion and made Cameron’s fingers itch to card through his hair. Maybe he’d find a way do that.
“Then please, join me.” Alric indicated the chair next to his.
Cameron did so, but warned, “I don’t actually know that much genealogy off the top of my head. Halmeoni’s the one who keeps track of it for my family. If you really want to dive into this, it’s best to get her on the phone with us.”
“But isn’t it late, where she is?”
“Nah, it’s only early afternoon. She’s most likely watching TV.” Cameron leaned a little into Alric’s side so he could pull his phone out of his pocket. Why yes, he did do that deliberately. And Alric smelled amazing. “I like your cologne, by the way.”
A trace of color painted high on Alric’s cheeks, and he couldn’t seem to quite meet Cameron’s eyes. “I’m not wearing any.”
“Is that right?” Cameron wanted to pinch his cheeks, and ruffle his hair, and maybe squeeze him. How did this man stay adorable like this? It killed Cameron slowly that he couldn’t mess with him like he wanted to. They’d need to be a little closer, Cameron judged. “Then definitely don’t wear any.”
Alric turned a little redder.
Mindful that Dieter watched them—and the man’s eyebrows were in his hairline, eyes amused and a little wide-eyed—Cameron decided to let Alric off the hook. For now. Hopefully he’d gotten his point across that he liked what he saw. He pinged his grandmother via chat. Poke.
The response was in seconds. Poke. What’s up, favorite grandson?
Dragons want to trace our family tree, Cameron typed back. Call?
Halmeoni broke speed records, she called so quickly. Cameron bit back a chuckle as he accepted the call and Facetimed her. “Hey, Halmeoni. This is King Alric”—he panned the phone so she could see Alric—“and this is Dieter. Meet Noh Ha Na.”
“Lady Noh,” Dieter responded with a polite inclination of