Free Half-Off Ragnarok: Book Three of InCryptid by Seanan McGuire

wheelhouse, yes.” That wasn’t the problem: more like convenient shorthand for the problem, which was, quite simply, that the formal discovery of the fricken would lead to a whole new school of scientific study. Technically, moving things from “cryptid” to “acknowledged part of the natural world” was something I wanted very much. The Covenant of St. George couldn’t exactly lead a campaign against cute little feathered froggies. But when people realized that amphibians could have feathers . . .
    It would completely change the way the world looked at amphibians, which would, in turn, change the way we looked at reptiles. It was unavoidable, and becoming more so with every year that passed. That was what made my work so important. If this was going to happen, we were going to try to control it.
    “If you knew this was happening, what are you planning to do about it?”
    “We didn’t know. We suspected.” I raked a hand through my hair, pulling it away from my face. “Now I’ve got proof, which I sent home last night. My father will copy and verify my research and send it off to the rest of the family.”
    “And after that?”
    “Since I can’t stop the frogs from dying, after that, we brace for impact.” I glanced at the clock. “The school group should be arriving. Let’s go teach some kids about snakes.”
    Dee wisely didn’t argue. Crow was still curled in his cat bed when we left the office. I closed the door behind us.

    I’ll say this about school groups: they can take your mind off practically anything. My concerns about the growing fricken population were forgotten the minute I had to haul two ten year olds away from the rattlesnake exhibit and lecture them for taunting the snakes. Dee hastened to cover the glass before the two snakes that had been goaded into strike position could work themselves up to actually striking. I didn’t want to deal with an injured rattler if there was any possible way to avoid it.
    One of the chaperones came and whisked the boys away as soon as I was done with my lecture, probably to deliver another, far more “I’ll call your parents”-oriented lecture of her own. That was fine with me, and I had other problems, since one of the smaller, cleverer girls—who had equally small, clever fingers—was in the process of removing the lid from a tank of blue-tailed skinks. I raced to stop her. Dee was on the other side of the reptile house, explaining Crunchy’s diet to a rapt audience. As vigorous alligator arm gestures were involved, I wasn’t worried about her losing their attention any time soon.
    I made my way to the door to Dee’s office, knocking once before cracking it open and sticking my head inside. Chandi was still seated on the beanbag chair with Shami wrapped around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder and his forked tongue contentedly scenting the air. She didn’t react to my presence.
    “Ten minutes,” I said.
    Now she reacted. Her head came up, dark eyes widening in surprise, and then narrowing in irritation. “You promised me three—”
    “I promised you three hours. It’s been more than three hours. My lunch is in ten minutes, which will give us a chance to get Shami back into his enclosure without anyone seeing. If you’re willing to help with that, I won’t even deduct today’s extra time from tomorrow’s visit.” That was a bluff: I wouldn’t have done that, even if she’d refused to help me. There was trying to keep an enterprising young wadjet from breaking her venomous fiancé out of his tank, and then there was being mean to a little girl. All sapient species go through the period analogous to human childhood. It’s one of the things that unify us all.
    “Oh.” Chandi’s lower lip wobbled a little before she pulled herself proudly upright and said, “We will be ready to part in ten minutes. I will see you tomorrow, for my
full
three hours.”
    “Agreed,” I said, and closed the door.
    Dee was finishing her