Finishing the broom was something Gilmore had set most of his focus on for the time being. Certainly he had other plans, he had many things to enchant, things he wanted to make available to other people, particularly if they were going to be faced with things like they were in New York.
At least the two of them had had the opportunity to unpack the fight with Thordak. Gilmore had been incredibly impressed and incredibly grateful for Theo's contribution. Fighting dragons wasn't easy, it left a few lingering memories. And Gilmore had promised he was available if Theo needed to talk about it more.
He hadn't, however, been impressed with Theo going out on his own. Even if death meant nothing, it wasn't a risk Gilmore thought any of them should be taking.
Still, focusing now let him find a better place, somewhere comfortable he could float, focus on the touches that were being bestowed upon him. He had worked on carving the enchantment into the wood, and now it was there in Marquesian along the handle, the pretty, looping script that wasn't visible until the broom was triggered, and even then it was just a brief flash.
He leant back into the man behind him, his head resting against Theo's shoulders. "I need your magic word, little sparrow," Gilmore said, voice low and slow, focused. "To make it fly. It's nearly done." He could probably have spread this over another day, but there was no harm in putting all of his focus in now. His magic was tingling, the runes hidden beneath his clothes were no doubt glowing. "Then I expect a rave review."