“Checking for frogspawn.”
He comes to a standstill in front of me and crosses his arms. “Why in the Blazes would frogspawn be in your underwear? Is this a weird Daphneism?”
“Have you ever had frogspawn in your floof?” I snap while squinting at him and triple-checking myself. Can’t be too careful.
“Not this annus.”
“Then don’t judge me. If you’d experienced it in your sausage’s smiley face, it would scar you too, and you’d know to check.”
“Fair point. Do you want me to check? It looks like you’re searching for buried treasure.”
I drop my hand, yank up my panties, and smile. “No need. I’m spawn free.”
He snatches my hand and draws my fingers into his mouth. My breath catches, and I swallow hard as his tongue swirls around the pad of my finger.
He releases them with a wet pop. “You’re right. No spawn.” He takes a perch on the log next to me and leans his back against the tree.
I debate on licking the fingers he just licked, but that would be weird. “Hart?”
“Yes, Calamity.”
“Are you asleep?”
“No.”
I need to check because of the horse situation. “Good. Because I have another question.”
He exhales slowly, and his eyes flutter closed. “Of course you do.”
“Do you think Theo snores in dragon form?”
From inside the tent, two voices answer at once. “Yes. Loudly. And often with fiery consequences.”
I grin. “Knew it.”
“Farts too,” Malachi shouts.
“Then jumps twelve feet in shock and spins around to find the culprit,” Hart adds. “It’s amusing unless you’re at the wrong end.”
I scrunch up my nose.
Sir Sweeps-A-Lot wiggle-bursts out of the lake and spins like some sort of water sprite. It’s a new side of him, and I like it. He zooms toward us and lies on my feet like a soggy guard dog, his bristles still damp from his aquatic adventures.
Hart wraps an arm around my waist and drags me so my back is against his chest. “Rest your eyes,” he grumbles.
“What if we fall asleep?”
“That would be a small miracle, but I’m sure your broom would wake us.”
Sir Sweeps-A-Lot rises in a regal manner, indicating that he is indeed up for the task.
“Just to be clear, our eyes may be open, but we might be asleep,” I inform him.
He shivers in response. I take that as an“obviously.”
The night air is cool and quiet. The fire has burned down to glowing embers, casting a soft red light across the clearing. The lake stretches out before us, silver and still, like a giant coin dropped into the forest.
For a while, neither of us speaks. It’s… strange. Relaxing. Usually, my thoughts bounce around like drunken pixies. But now there’s a weight in my chest. A hollow space that wasn’t there before.
