“Well, you’re an owl, not really a man. So, I think it’s fine.”
Reluctantly, he flies inside and lands on the bed’s footboard. “What are you looking for?”
“My e-reader.”
“What for?”
I locate the device easily, but the stylus is proving difficult. Finally, I find it, and then I hold them up, victorious. “For you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know, come on.” I leave the room, heading toward the kitchen.
“If you were only going to be in there for a minute, why make me follow you?”
I ignore him and set the e-reader on the table. “It’s designed to recognize a finger swipe, and you obviously don’t have one of those.”
“No kidding.”
“But I think you should be able to hold the stylus in one of your talons. Hop over here and give it a try.”
Rowan leaves his perch, humoring me, and awkwardly grasps the stylus with his little foot—almost falling over in the process.
“Okay, that’s not going to work. Maybe you can hold it in your beak?”
The owl drops the stylus on the table, glaring at me, unblinking.
When I see he’s going to be stubborn, I say, “I’ll have you know, I could be making out with Ash on his very soft couch right now. The least you can do is humor me.”
The owl makes a rude retching noise.
“If you hack up an owl pellet on the table, I will evict you.”
He chuckles and then leans over, picking up the stylus in his beak.
“Good! Now, see if you can turn on the device. Give it a tap.”
“I do know how to use a touch screen,” he grouses, his words clear despite the stylus thanks to his amulet.
“Good for you. Get on with it then.”
He turns it on, and numbers come up, requesting a passcode.
“Oh, that might be difficult,” I say. “Do you think you can type numbers?”
“Maybe with practice,” he says, but he sounds doubtful. He is wielding a stylus with his beak after all.
“I’ll set it to something easy.” I pick up the device and unlock it. “Six numbers all in a row. But for now, I’ll just open it for you.”
“Kit—”
“Shh,” I say, cutting him off. “Okay, go to my library. There are hundreds of books in there, all of which you’ll hate. But I don’t care if you buy books. Buy all the books you want—putLaverna’s allowance to good use. I’ll even see if I can buy a little stand so you can read from your perch. What do you think?”
Rowan sets the stylus down, looking resigned. “You’re annoyingly helpful.”
I grin, deciding that’s high praise. “Does that mean you like it?”
“Yes,” he admits. “I do.”
