Chapter Ten.

Nathaniel Thornton sighed as he hung up his phone, then dialed another number, his blue eyes filled with annoyance. First his daughter took her inheritance and cut off ties to the family, then he received news that one of his best mages died, the soul link severed rather violently by whatever killed him.

"Becky," he said as soon as the call was answered. "Please inform the organization that Derrick has met his demise. We'll no longer operate it from the shadows, he was only a puppet in the first place. I want you to take over his place, as you know the most outside of me. Continue as planned."

He hung up without waiting for a response and slipped the phone into the pocket of his suit before running his fingers through his sandy-blond hair and fixing it. After checking himself in the mirror, he exited his car and made his way into the office as he skimmed the papers in front of him.

"Hello," he smiled at the woman at the nearest desk to when he entered. "I was looking for an Abigail Sambar?"

"Your name?" She asked.

"Nathaniel Thornton," he responded. "I'm the grandfather of one of her cases, Ambrosius Nathaniel Caldwell. I have the paperwork with me to confirm it."

"Give me just a minute," she told him. "You can sit over there."

Nathaniel nodded and walked back to the entrance, where there were several chairs and two vending machines. A few minutes passed before he was approached by another woman. She was a woman in her forties with brown hair and eyes, dressed in black pants, a teal blouse, and a pair of flats.

"Nathaniel Thornton?" She asked, and he nodded. "I'm Abigail Sambar, Ambrosius's caseworker. Let's go talk in my office."

Nathaniel followed Abigail into her office, a room rather than one of the many cubicles in the main area. She had a desk, several shelves, and several filing cabinets.

"Now," she said. "When his mother gave him up for adoption, she gave up all rights to him. I'm assuming you're aware of this?"

"I am," Nathaniel handed her the paperwork. "I was not aware that she had intended on giving up my grandson, or I would have talked her into giving me custody. I met him recently and could tell we were related. He goes by Cameron now, I believe?"

"He does," Abigail looked through the paperwork confirming his identity and blood relation to her 'charge'. "Do you know the significance of his token?"

"His token?" Nathaniel asked. "The gold coin he has?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Cameron's token, the object he's had with him through the homes. According to the reports, he's had it since he was born."

"Yes," Nathaniel pulled out his wallet, then pulled his own crest out and handed it to her.

A golden coin with magic runes on the back and a crown worn over a staff on the front.

"It's our family crest," Nathaniel responded. "Each member of our family has one. Victoria acquired one for Cameron before he was born, so that she could give it to him at birth – it's a family tradition of ours. Because of that, we didn't expect her to give him up. Until then, we'd thought she would – he was conceived through rape. I looked for him for years, but he was lost in the system. If I hadn't seen him a few weeks ago, I might not have ever found him, I feel."

"Maybe," she answered, handing the coin back. "It looks like Cameron's."

"I know you'll need to go through the courts for full custody," Nathaniel told her. "But I'd like to acquire it, to bring my grandson back to the family. I'd be willing to do whatever it takes, if possible. My grandson shouldn't be living on the streets, especially not when we're able to care for and provide for him."

"Indeed," Abigail pulled some papers out of a drawer and handed them to him. "Could you fill those out? It will help streamline the process if they're filled out promptly and accurately."

Nathaniel nodded, then filled out the paperwork. Abigail only had a couple of other questions for him, then he left, leaving her to read the papers with a frown.

Abigail had already known who Nathaniel was, having already located the family and found information on them. The man certainly fit the image she'd been given of the family patriarch, though she hadn't realized how much younger than his stated age he really looked. The records said he was no doubt nearly seventy, yet he didn't appear even half of that.

Letting out a sigh, she closed her eyes as she filed the paperwork away. She returned to work sorting stuff out for another case as she waited for her next appointment, who arrived half an hour later.

The blond-haired, blue-eyed Victoria Thornton, Cameron's mother. She was twenty-six, according to the file Abigail had on her desk. The case worker had her suspicions about the real reason Cameron had been given up.

She would have been only fourteen when she gave birth. The chances were high that she had been forced to by her parents.

"Abigail?" Victoria asked hesitantly.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Victoria Thornton?" Abigail asked.

"Yes," Victoria responded.

"Come in, have a seat," Abigail said, noticing that Victoria looked hesitant to sit when she entered. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you for calling," Victoria took a seat. "I've been looking for Ambrosius for… a long while."

"I noticed," Abigail tapped the file in front of her. "Several attempts over the last eight years to locate him, met with a roadblock each time. Your first attempt was on your eighteenth birthday. Before we get into that, however, can you tell me about his birth? Who the father was, how you two met, and so on?"

"Yes," Victoria nodded. "A little before my thirteenth birthday, I was going for a stroll through the gardens on one of our properties – the family I come from is pretty wealthy, and I lived on a vast estate. There was a lot of security, but this man had somehow found his way onto it. I don't know who he was, and he was gone before security ever arrived. We searched for awhile, but no one found him. A few weeks later, we discovered I was pregnant. It was pretty traumatic for me, and they were surprised I didn't lose the baby over that.

"My parents," she continued. "Attempted several times to convince me into an abortion, but, I don't know, the fourteen-year-old me at the time felt a strong desire to keep the baby. I don't know why, it was irrational – I didn't want the child, but something kept me from having an abortion. Some instinct in me screaming for it to not happen."

Victoria didn't mention that she now knew what that was. A child of Ulrima's was not an easy thing to stop the birth of, he was a god of life, and his children possessed a survival aura during pregnancy, something that prevented the mothers from stopping their births.

"When he was born," she continued. "My father, the family's head, gave me a choice: either give him up for adoption, or be cast out onto the streets without a penny. I didn't want to raise him without being able to support him, so I gave my son up, with the stipulation that I was the one who named him. I made sure he was given one of our family crests, so that once I was an adult, I could try to track him down. Even if he'd lost the crest, I was hopeful that I'd still be able to follow the trail."

She didn't mention that the crests couldn't be forcefully stolen or removed from a Thornton – only they could handle it without issue. Anyone else would eventually lose it, and it would eventually find its way back into its owner's hands.

"And that's why you've attempted to find him again?" Abigail asked.

"Yes," Victoria responded. "As soon as I turned eighteen, I began discreetly making inquiries, hoping my father wouldn't find out before I was ready. I was storing away portions of my inheritance as well. After finding out he was here in Tejina a couple of weeks ago, I started looking into purchasing a property here. I'm in the process of negotiating a price on one at the moment, and am hoping to settle in the next few days. I could bring him back to where I grew up, but from what I've seen and heard, he's made some friends here, and I'd rather not pull him away from that."

"Alright," Abigail said. "I will start the paperwork on my end, Victoria, but you will also need to petition the courts. They'll want you to have a place to stay permanently, and I'll need to inspect it as well. So once you have the home purchased and are moved in, things can get moving.

"I'm not making any promises," Abigail continued. "Cameron – that's what he calls himself right now – is in a delicate situation. While I do trust you, I'll need to perform another interview with you, and the court will want to have one as well. In the end, the decision will be theirs, though they will also take Cameron's desire into account, especially if someone else lays claim to him."

"Someone else?" Victoria asked.

"If, say, his father showed up," Abigail said. "And wanted to lay claim to Cameron, then the courts would look at both of you. They would require both to be interviewed, and this includes asking both parties what happened that resulted in his birth. I know the family court judge who deals with the cases of foster kids and custody in my jurisdiction. She isn't the kind who leans in favor of the mother simply because they're the mother.

"She looks at all of the presented information – from the parents, from the case worker, from the child, from any psychologists the child has seen, and so on. Then, she makes her decision based on that. In the last twenty years, she has yet to side with the mother if the father was the better choice, and her rate of children ending up in a bad situation after a custody hearing due to the guardian is lower than most.

"So if," Abigail said. "Someone else lays claim to him, or she determines based on any evidence provided that you lied, you may not receive custody of Cameron. My interest is in making him comfortable and putting him into a good home where he feels and is safe. I am not saying you will lose, but I do want you to be prepared, just in case it happens, okay?"

"Okay," Victoria nodded. "I'll answer any questions asked, ma'am. I want my son, and I'll wait however long it takes for this to happen. Do you know if it's possible for me to see him? I'd like to talk to him, but I don't know where he is, just that he's in the area and has some friends here."

Abigail thought for a few moments, then nodded.

"If you give me a week or two," she told Victoria. "I might be able to arrange a meeting with him. The last time I spoke with him, I did scare him off by accident, so it might take me a little bit. Is the number I used to contact you good for contacting you?"

"No," Victoria shook her head. "Do you have something to write with? I left my family behind, and when I did, I left my phone as well. I have a new number."

Abigail gave her a pen and a sheet of paper, and Victoria wrote down her number. The case worker wished her a good day, then Victoria left, and Abigail leaned back in her seat, looking at the two files on her desk.

The mother and the grandfather both wanted custody of Cameron. She was inclined to believe the mother over the grandfather on what happened, at least as far as why he was given up for adoption. She wasn't too sure, however, on how Abigail had gotten pregnant.

Since she was thirteen at the time, it probably had been a rape, but the case worker doubted it was an unknown, especially with the mother's comment about the property's security. She didn't see a reason to note that information. The woman had seemed odd when mentioning that part, as if she were hiding something.

Was it a relative who had done it?

Abigail sighed. She needed to figure out who the father was, in her opinion, and find out what had happened from him. If she did locate him, despite there being nothing at the moment to run a lead on with that, the whole custody ordeal could become a lot more complicated, especially if he wasn't family of the Thorntons.

She did not want to enter into another three-way custody battle. Those never ended well for anyone. And if the father was able to get onto that property, he was likely someone the family knew. Another wealthy party pressuring her and the courts to rule in their favor.

Sometimes, Abigail wished her sister's fanatic belief in magic was real and that she could just summon up a god and have everything sorted out.

But alas, magic and gods weren't real, so there would be no divine intervention declaring who had custody over the young boy she wanted to help.