Mikhail went inside to give his son space to land. He watched from the doorway as the earth dragon became a tall and handsome young man whose features showed more of his Chinese heritage than Mikhail’s did.
“Father,” Fei Zhan said.
“Son.” Mikhail held out a hand to invite Fei Zhan into the room.
Fei Zhan cast his eyes over the motel room’s disharmonious furnishings. The imperial dragons of the Tian-Long family kept to the old customs when in their human form, sitting on mats in their manors set in vast gardens designed by masters of feng shui. This motel room, with its cheap gray carpet and ugly brown couch, violated pretty much every principle of feng shui, and western design principles to boot.
Fei Zhan dropped gracefully onto the couch. The springs let out a depressed-sounding wheeze. Both father and son couldn’t help chuckling, which broke the formality.
“How have you been?” Mikhail asked.
“Well, thank you. But you didn’t yank me out of L.A. to ask how I’m doing. You need advice? From me?”
“I do.”
Fei Zhan grinned. “I trust it’s about the tea business. It’s not as if I could advise you on the best methods of fighting krakens, or how to defeat demonic grave robbers, or the any of your other regular chores.”
“I don’t need advice on fighting krakens.” Mikhail still hadn’t figured out how to approach the subject. But that was the point, was it not? He didn’t know how to talk about such things. So he said bluntly, “I have found my mate.”
Fei Zhan’s eyes widened with surprise. “What? Where?”
“Here. In this town.”
“I thought you were here on imperial order.”
“I am.” Mikhail gave a brief outline of what happened. Fei Zhan laughed silently, but he did not interrupt as Mikhail finished, “And so, here I am. I never expected such a thing to happen to me. Especially with a human. I do not know what to do.”
“With a woman?” His son’s voice rose in horror. “Dad, are you asking me—”
“I know what to do with a woman in that sense,” Mikhail interrupted testily. “You’re here.”
“Uh, right. Right. Right.” Fei Zhan once again began to chuckle.
“What I need to learn is how to . . . to . . .”
“Date?” His son crossed his arms, tipping his head.
“Yes. That.”
Fei Zhan let out a belly laugh, but when he saw his father patiently waiting, he hastily suppressed the rest. “Okay. Okay. Not really funny, just a surprise. But!” Fei Zhan held up his palms. “First. If she’s younger than I am, I’m out of here.”
Mikhail considered. “I cannot estimate age in humans, but there is no sense of a nestling about her.”
“Okay, well, that’s a relief. Next, she’s definitely human?”
“Yes. I am certain of it. You know we can always sense another of our kind. She does not have that sense. Not that it’s a problem! She is unique in herself, wondrous, beautiful . . .”
“Enough! Enough already. No one needs to hear their dad going on about a hot . . . uh, lady.” Fei Zhan’s head tipped the other way. “Although from the sound of it, you haven’t even gotten that far. Look, Father, it’s simple. That is, the dating strategy is simple. Let me put it in old-fash
ioned terms. You have to court her.”
“Court her,” Mikhail repeated, his right hand straying toward the hilt of his swordstick. But this was not a matter for dragon-fire and steel.
Fei Zhan grinned. “Let me put it in terms an old dragon knight can understand. The strategy is simple, but the tactical carry-through is where things might get interesting. First you need to conduct a recon mission. And then determine what logistical support you will need.”
“Recon,” Mikhail repeated, relieved. Put it in the terms of a knight’s military campaign, it began to make sense.
“Get to know her. Find out what she likes, and what her life is about. Go from there. And good luck!” Fei Zhan sketched the characters for double-happiness in the air. Then he went out the door, jumped off the balcony, became a dragon in midair, and arrowed up into the clouds.