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“Oh my goodness,” she was holding her hand over her mouth.
“Do you think they saw us?” Hawthorne asked, looking equally disgusted.
“I think they were too busy shoving each other's tongues down their throats.”
He gagged, “But why?”
“I don’t get it either,” Morrigan shook her head. “That was- okay. I’m never not knocking on a door again.”
“Could have been worse,” Hawthorne said. “Could have been-”
“Shut up, please.”
“Shutting up.” This was a lie, “How long do you think that’s been going on?”
“Jack and Homer? I don’t wanna- yeah.” She clicked her teeth, “Do we have to like acknowledge that we know about it?”
“Nah,” he said. “Nah, right? Wait, do you think Jack might find out that we know? Or Jupiter.”
“He might not find out that you know, but I live with both of them,” she huffed. “Jupiter will find out, I just know it. He’ll see it on me, and on Jack. Stupid Witnesses.”
“What was that, Miss Morrigan?” Martha poked her head around a wall and they both jumped. “Goodness, you both look like you’ve had a fright.
She laughed awkwardly, “We were in the Hall of Shadows again. I was practising Veil but it got away from me in there.”
Martha smiled kindly, coming over and adjusting one of Morrigan’s earrings so that it hung straight again, “You push yourself so hard, Miss Morrigan. You could do with taking a break sometimes, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“Thanks, Martha,” she said.
“We could go to the park?” said Hawthorne when Martha had moved on again. “It might take your mind off things so you can like… not get caught out.”
She wrinkled up her face, “Yeah, alright. I’ll grab my brolly. You got yours?”
“Of course,” he raised his, a hand me down from Helena, but being engraved with H. Swift worked for three out of four Swift children, and it was a beautiful bronze handled and tough umbrella.
They heard the sound of a door opening, somewhere back where Homer and Jack had been spending time together, and hightailed it out of there, all the way to the park.
“Did you have a good day today, Mog?” Jupiter seemed to be losing a flight with a kipper which would absolutely not give up its bones.
“Um,” she did not look at Jack, or the slightly mis-coloured makeup on his neck. “Yeah, Hawthorne and I went to the park and played shinty with some people.”
“Shinty?” Jack said.
“Yeah,” she said, spreading melting butter around her pancakes. It was breakfast for dinner today. “There's always a few people who play on the pitch on weekends with whoever shows up. Kedgeree lent us some camans.”
“Homer and I were looking for you two for ages,” Jack said, pouring milk and then cereal into his bowl.
She only just didn’t resist muttering, “Yeah, I bet you were,” before taking a massive glug of orange juice so no one could make her explain herself.
Jupiter looked between her and Jack, his eyes narrowed, before he finally saw what she had given a half-hearted attempt at hiding, his face halfway between smirking and deliberately straight. Jack’s fingers twitched towards his eyepatch but he didn’t move it.
“They’re at our house now,” Hawthorne complained. “I didn’t even know they knew each other that well.”
“Or at all,” she tried to think about it. “Did we introduce them? At any point?”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “It was like… they must have already met at something. Did I ever bring Homer to any parties here?”
“There’s a lot of parties at the Deucalion, I really wouldn’t know,” she played with a baby shadow horse between her fingers, letting the smoke and shadow evolve into cantering legs, real muscles moving back and forward.
“Make a dragon,” he said, leaning over her shoulder. It was so annoying how much taller he was than her now. If it wasn’t for Lam, she would be the shortest person in Unit 919.
“Anyway,” he said. “I mean… if that’s where Homer keeps going all the time. Does Jack disappear at night sometimes? And during the day?”
“Um,” said Morrigan, who hadn’t thought about it before. “Dunno.” She made a little shadow dragon. “Why do you care so much?”
“Because it’s interesting?” He made grabby hands at the dragon. “Give it.”
“Is it?” She held it away from him, “Say please.”
“Urgh, please, dad.” He looked absolutely delighted to hold it. “It is interesting. I mean my brother and Jack?” he looked halfway delighted by the gossip, and halfway disgusted by the knowledge that his brother was dating.
“Whose brother and Jack?” said someone from behind them.
Morrigan gulped, turning to face Fen, and just pointed at Hawthorne, like the incredibly brave and loyal person she was.
“Um,” he spluttered. “That’s private information, Fen.”
She lowered his face to his, “Is it? If you’re referring to Homer and Jack, well, half the hotel knows by now. They’re not very subtle.” She looked disparagingly over at Morrigan. “If you ever start bringing someone around like that, please remember that door locks exist.”
She felt her cheeks heat up, “Will do.”
“I saw your work in the Tournament,” Fenestra said to Hawthorne. “That was good work, by the way. Very impressive… flipping over.”
He grinned so widely that the cut on his lip reopened, “Cheers, Fen.”
“Why are you guys gone all the time?” Jack complained. “How much shinty could you possibly be playing?”
“What happened to Morrigan, you need to get a hobby outside of being a wundersmith? ” She put on a deep voice and made air quotations with her fingers.
“I do not sound like that,” he said.
Homer drew a thumbs down on his blackboard, rubbed it out and replaced it with more like a squeaky rubber ball.
“Hey!”
Morrigan snorted.
Hawthorne scratched his ear, “So.”
Jack was nonplussed, “So what?”
“Any news or… anything going on with you, Jack? Or you, Homer?”
He scribbled something down and turned his blackboard around to show them, No. Why are you being weird?
“I’m not being weird,” he protested. “Oof, Morrigan, those are my ribs!”
“I know,” she said, standing up, and pulling him out of the Smoking Parlour. “Sorry guys! We have… a shinty match soon.”
“Can we ever come to watch you play?” Jack asked, not sounding like he fully believed them, fair, but rude.
“Ummm, no.” She shrugged. “It’s a private society. Of shinty.”
“But you’re already in a private society!” he said before she slammed the door.
“Are we actually going to play shinty?” asked Hawthorne. “Because Nan says that I shouldn’t play any contact sport in case I get injured.”
She pulled out a caman for herself, and her bag with the rest of her kit, “You can cheer me on. And you’ve got to do better than that. They’re not going to admit it.”
He nodded sagely, “We need to catch them at it.”
She stared incredulously, “We could be normal and leave them alone. Come on, I’m gonna be late.”
“I can’t believe you were telling the truth about that,” he said.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” she said. Jack and Homer jumped apart.
“Um-” said Jack. He readjusted his eyepatch hurriedly. “Um.”
“These doors have locks!” Hawthorne pointed it out on the door. “They exist! Use them.”
“And get better at using concealer,” Morrigan said to Jack. “Dame Chanda is going to catch on to you taking hers sooner than later.”
His eyes widened. “Anything else?”
She blew air out of her mouth, “Congrats? You guys seem happy?”
Homer smiled at her, and wrote something on his blackboard, Thank you. We will use the locks from now on.
“Yuck,” said Hawthorne. “Okay, thanks. Do that. Yeah.”
Morrigan the Long Suffering sighed, and pulled him out of the room, “You’re going to be late for training.”
“Oh good,” he said. “I have a reason to leave.”
“Who in the Unnamed Realm was going to make you stay?” she said, shaking her head.