“That was some sterling stirring,” Mikhail blurted. His face grew as red as Lila’s hair.
She didn’t have to quirk the usual eyebrow at him. Nor did she bother to look up from her cauldron.
No, instead the ever-present — and watchful — antique fire extinguishers floating over her shoulders managed to tilt themselves in a simultaneous expression of in loco parentis distrust, exasperation, and mild disappointment.
Especially Lefty. After six years, Mikhail could read their metallic body language well. Lame, said the tilt. Try again.
“Um, I mean.” He stopped, hands fumbling on the edge of his cauldron. “I’m stuck on this part of the potion. I can’t figure out when to stop on the sixth counterclockwise turn. It’s really finicky. How are you stopping at precisely the right moment?”
Lefty and George relaxed, then glowered as Lila gave him a grin and moved to show him the trick.
He gulped, and tried to radiate good intentions. Although…he suspected the extinguishers knew exactly what teenage boys thought about their occasionally flammable and vivacious charge.
***
This weeks’ sterling stirring prompt came from AC Young. Mine on nightengales went to nother Mike – find them all, over at MOTE!
