Chapter 19
DOYLE GRACIOUSLY LET ME TAKE THE WINDOW SEAT. HE SAT VERY straight in his chair, hands in a death grip on the arms, seat belt buckled. He closed his eyes when the plane took off. Normally, I like watching the ground get farther away, but today watching Doyle turn grey around the edges was much more fun.
"How can you possibly be afraid of flying?" I asked.
He kept his eyes closed, but answered me. "I am not afraid of flying. I am afraid of flying in airplanes. " His voice sounded very reasonable, as if it all made perfect sense.
"So you could ride a flying steed and not be afraid?"
He nodded, finally opening his eyes as the plane leveled off. "I have ridden the beasts of the air many times. "
"So why do planes bother you?"
He looked at me as if I should have known the answer. "It is the metal, Princess Meredith. I am not comfortable surrounded by so much man-made metal. It acts as a barrier between me and the earth, and I am a creature of the earth. "
"As you said, Doyle, there are benefits to not being pure sidhe. I don't have a problem with metal. "
He looked at me, turning just his head. "You can do major arcana within such a metal tomb?"
I nodded. "I've never found any magic that I can't perform just as well inside a metal tomb, as I can outside of one. "
"That could be very useful, Princess. "
The flight attendant, a tall leggy blonde wearing nearly perfect makeup, paused by Doyle's seat, bending over enough to make sure he got a look at her cleavage, if he wanted it. She'd made sure he had a chance at a view every time she came by his seat. She'd come by three times in the last twenty minutes to ask if he wanted anything, anything at all. He declined. I asked for a red wine.
She'd brought my wine this time. Because it was first class it was actually served in a long-stemmed glass. The better to spill it all over yourself when the plane hit turbulence, which it did.
The plane bucked and swerved so badly that I gave the wine back to the flight attendant, and she gave me a handful of napkins for my hand.
Doyle closed his eyes again and kept repeating to all her questions, "No, thank you, I'm fine. " She didn't actually offer to throw off her clothes and have sex on the floor of the plane, but the invitation was clear. If Doyle heard the invitation he managed to ignore it beautifully. I don't know if he actually didn't realize she was hitting on him, or if he was just accustomed to human women acting like fools. She finally got the hint and wandered