Arcturus might have offered an explanation, but he found that he couldn't work out what exactly it was in what he'd said that Todoroki didn't understand. If it were important, he reasoned, it would no doubt happen again, and if not, then it hardly mattered. Instead, he settled for a formal 'How do you do, Todoroki?' and then, a moment later, with a hint of amusement in his voice: 'I must ask you not to think me rude. Ordinarily I'd bow, you know, or at the very least shake your hand, but that just isn't terribly sensible when one is introducing oneself in the air.' It was an explanation rather than an apology. Arcturus already felt more at ease with Todoroki than he had before. Most people in Preya tried to insist on first names with him and that always made things needlessly awkward, but here he had a new acquaintance who seemed sensible.
He would have been willing to fly slowly for the other boy's sake, but the fact that he dismissed the idea raised him in Arcturus' eyes considerably. He wasn't afraid, or if he was, he didn't want Arcturus to know it, which was just as good a sign as far as his character was concerned.
'You can hold the broomstick,' he advised, 'or if you haven't enough space to do that comfortably, take hold of the sides of my robe.' Once Todoroki seemed to be settled comfortably, Arcturus flew off, accelerating steadily. 'The school isn't far,' he called back. 'We shan't have any trouble, but if we do, then stay calm and I'll cushion your landing with magic.' On they flew, Arcturus pushing the nineteenth-century broom up to its top speed, over forty miles an hour. The wind was strong, but a warming spell kept them comfortable. It wouldn't be long at all before the school was in sight.