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perhaps you can also request for extra tutoring from Lieutenant Keel,” Alden said.
I came home that day to find Scalla and Miazydar sitting on the couch in the lounge room, him with a book open in his claws, another few resting on his belly as he dictated something for Scalla to scribble down. “Hello?” I said.
“Ah, you’re here. Good, good, so classes all went well today?” Miazydar said.
“Really well, I knew the answers to every question asked of me.”
“Yes, that one about the ghrelin gland was a particularly tricky one, but I managed to find the answer just in time. You’re welcome by the way,” Miazydar said.
“You found the answer?” I said. “What’s been happening? Have you been feeding me the answers? How did you know what the questions were?”
“I’ve found that if I concentrate, I read what you read, know what you know. I was tired of sitting up in the eyrie all day, so I thought I’d apply myself, help you get through this ridiculous requirement of educational attainment. Then we can focus on what really matters, the plight of dragons now.”
“This is your paper for History, your report for Anatomy and another for Husbandry,” Scalla said, passing me several neatly typed scrolls in a language I didn’t understand. “We’ll have the rest done by the end of the week. Miazydar dictated and I transcribed. He’s very eloquent.”
“Right,” I said, sitting down on the armchair with a flump. I’d expected I’d have to hit the books hard, but apparently I needn’t have bothered rushing home.
I wonder if Keel’s still up for training? I thought.
Is that really what you should be spending your time doing? Miazydar said. You still have that ridiculous demonstration to complete for the war games display and of course, there’s Scalla’s contacts to make use of. There’s quite the network of malcontents in the country.
Don’t I have to train with Keel for the war games display?
Yes, but is that what you’re going to do?
30
“Oh good,” Jez said when she saw me, “can you go with Flea to the village? We need some more food and washing powder and toilet paper. I think our little miffle friend has a preference for three-ply.”
“What?”
“He eats it, not uses it, though that would be super cool. You know those videos where people have trained their cats to shit in the toilet? I always like the ones when the smug bastards miss. Teaching them to crap in a loo, next they’ll be showing them how to take orders and make my lattes or something,” Jez muttered.
“A cat taking orders? Surely you see the flaw in that plan.”
“That he’d put 13 shots of hazelnut syrup in my cup and then piss in it? Yeah, I know, you still can’t trust the furry little buggers.”
“Isn’t that kinda weird, hating cats as a practising witch?” I said, gesturing to Jez’s t-shirt that had the slogan ‘Basic Witch’ on it.
“Oh, my God! Did you assume that all witches are crones with pointed hats—”
“Just do me up a list, Jez, and I’ll go get it.”
“My people have suffered under the tyranny of Christian bigots who—”
“List, Jez, list, list, list or I’m going to head back and do some more training.”
I didn’t mean to be an insensitive jerk. Growing up with a Wiccan grandmother I was well aware of all the ways powerful women had been victimised, whether because they had power or not. It was just that Jez liked to pull out this particular soapbox to shut down a conversation, grinning as she did so. She smiled at me right now and then handed over the piece of paper in question. “I knew you’d see it my way,” she said and sauntered over to the front door. “Rubbish dude had a couple of very cute, lot less smelly friends and I’m just about ready for a bit of flap bludgeoning if you know what I mean. I’m beginning to think my vag is going to grow over from lack of use.”
“The high-pitched whining from your room at night suggests otherwise,” I said.
“As much as I’m deeply in love with Mr Buzzy and his good friend Peter Rabbit, with his clit tickler and rotating pearls, nothing can go past a big, blue-veined jackhammer, let alone two, and I’m aiming to get some.”
“She’s off to find some dick?” Flea said, walking in with an armload of freshly dried washing. “Thank fuck. If I had to hear any more moaning about missing out on cock I was about to dump her in the village centre in a box with a label on it saying ‘free to good home’ and see if that helped. So are you coming? We usually need two people to carry everything.”
“Um, yeah,” I said. I don’t know about you, but there’s something about a heavily tattooed guy doing domestic work, his skimpy singlet revealing ridges of ropy muscle as he held the pile of clothes, that just gets me going. My eyes travelled down the parts of his body I could see and beyond. Maybe I needed to take a ride on Dr Feelgood myself.
What, you jump off a dragon and now you’re channelling Jez? I said to myself. My sex drive had been crazy ever since I touched the ground again, but that was no reason to treat someone I liked as a sex toy to grind a release out on. No, that’s what the other one’s for, my mind supplied helpfully. I blew out a sigh and then smiled back at Flea. “Just let me grab my helmet and flight gear and we’ll get going.”
