“What?!” Khasekhemwy yelped, staring across the room at his student in horror.
How had it been so much time since they'd last had a lesson? What on Earth would have happened to Danny's education in 'a few weeks'? What did 'a few weeks' of absence even mean in an education?! Khase hadn't planned a scheme of work for decades. Nor did he trust anyone else's schemes of work, or the academy teachers. He dreaded to think what must have happened in the last few weeks, if Danny had only been taught by – by that lot. Mortals with no appreciation for literature. The. Horror.
Utterly distracted by this statement, he started pacing up and down the kitchen floor, knocking his elbows absent-mindedly against the units and mumbling about lost time. “How much work have you been doing at home?” He asked at last in a slightly louder voice which indicated the question was for Danny, not a rhetoric. His face looked like he was dreading the answer. “Six hours a day? Five?” Four was passable. Maybe. Below that, Khase thought he might faint.
He didn't even hear the part about his probably being busy, he was so upset by the knowledge that he hadn't given a lesson in so long. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, he then distracted himself again by accidentally lighting the match.
Khasekhemwy had no idea how to put out a fire. Well... water. But how did one acquire water without magic? He'd been getting it from the market twice a day because it was too heavy to carry a day's supply in one go. Luckily the match was only small and it burnt itself out quickly, so the only lasting effect was his heart pounding in his chest. He wrung his hands together and exhaled deeply, trying to calm down, just as Danny pulled a bundle of something which smelled really good out of his bag. Khase had been getting his food (again) from the market, not knowing where else food came from, and had also been in receipt of tri-weekly care packages from Zed's wife, Rana. This morning he'd had neither.
“Pie?” He repeated hopefully, not entirely forgetting about the woe of time or the scary fire, but sufficiently distracted that his heart rate returned to a near-normal level. It smelt sweet. “Alright,” he conceded, not entirely grudgingly, “pie first, then lesson.”
He glanced around the kitchen as though expecting cutlery and crockery to just spring up out of nowhere.
khasekhemwy
patron deity of palestine
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