TWELVE
Xan drove for ten minutes before Jay piped up from the passenger seat, "This isn't the way to the airport."
"No," she admitted, watching the speedometer to make sure she didn't go over the limit. "Shou got called to help out with mustering on one of the inland stations. It's that time of year. Pretty much any pilot or aircraft that can fly is out mustering or on fire patrol, because the volunteer fire brigade wants to burn off as much fuel as they can before a bushfire starts by accident. There's already been one firenado. Took out two helicopters, which is why he's been roped into mustering this year. He treats that helicopter the way most men behave around their cars – no one drives but him."
"Not me," Jay said cheerfully. "I'm happy to let you drive."
"I thought you'd lost yo
