"Thanks!" she says, pulling the blanket over her and returning to her schoolwork. 

"No problem!"

He goes and fields room decor requests from Wilbur, Lavinia, Lavinia's dad, and Benjamin Franklin.

Ben Franklin and Lavinia's dad want books. Lavinia would like a map of their surroundings. Wilbur would like directions to somewhere he can post letters, and a vehicle if that's far enough away. 

"Do you know how to drive?"

"...No. Is it hard?"

"I mean, I can get you a car that drives itself but they're all trained on modern infrastructure and most of them rely heavily on global positioning satellites that there aren't any of here so you will need to do at least some of the work and yeah it's hard if you don't like crashing into things at forty miles an hour."

"I would rather not empirically find out what kind of daeva I would be so soon, so yes, I'd say I like that." 

"As I would have expected. I know how to drive. I'd suggest a bicycle but I'm not sure how those'd work with your knees."

"I...expect I could manage...but I'm less sure I could manage without how my knees work becoming visible." 

"Yeah. Car it is. I can get you an offroad model and a teaching program and it should be able to handle a 1928 road adequately and just don't go too fast if there's anything around. Ask me if you've got questions."

"How fast is too fast?" 

"I will get you a graph of survival data at various speeds of collision. Pick your own inflection point and mind that mind that we don't know if the turning into a daeva thing works for people here at all, let alone for your species varietal, and we don't know if the resurrection spell will work on you either."

Grimace. "I don't intend to test any of the various hypotheses regarding my death, I promise." 

Graph. Driving tutorial. Car with the guts of a self-piloting 2157 model and the body of an inoffensive Tin Lizzie.

Great. What is a good speed to not die, he'll go with that. 

Cam's graph shows a jump in fatality at twenty miles an hour, followed by a steady and concerning climb till it starts leveling off around fifty miles per hour. The curves for slight and moderate injury are angled more steeply and positioned a bit left.

This "using cars" thing seems like maybe more trouble than it's cracked up to be. Under twenty miles an hour it is. 

(The absolute risk in a car with modern safety features is pretty small, but the safety features were probably designed for people at least two feet shorter and slightly differently shaped than he is.)

Yeah he's super going to err on the side of caution. He drives to the post office very slowly, posts his letters, and leaves. 

He's very aware of the gazes of the people around him--there's no avoiding that when you're nine feet tall. The people seem more curious than hostile, here, but it's still not something he feels able to handle gracefully at the moment, so he makes a minimum of conversation and, subsequently, his escape. 

Meanwhile, Cam is reading up on Italian fascism. Exciting stuff.

What little he's read about fascism has scared the bejeebers out of him and politics is not his comparative advantage so he's going to go study some books that are not about politics now. 

And Lucy is likewise absorbed in her studies, but eventually she wants to take a break, and--

"Can I have a preprint fairy circle to go to Antarctica?" 

"Sure. Do you want a fairy with good reviews off a list?"

"Sure. What kinds of lists are there?" 

"The big one is called Davidson's. They summon randoms and find out what they want and what they're good at and publish the results. If the first fairy you try is on summon at the moment, or busy, this takes longer than a random, but since you're new at summoning and a random could even well-bound try to trick or intimidate you, it's probably the better plan." He looks through Davidson's Fairy List.