Sean was already trying to come up with a name. If he'd learned anything from racing games, it was that you had to name your motorbike. It was only polite. Polite, and it could become a source of luck, if you were already lucky. The moment Sean's mother gave her reluctant approval for the bike, Sean had stepped forwards and lightly touched the handlebars, half-expecting the magic to crumble. Or maybe to wake up, and discover that this was all a dream. A magical motorbike. His magical dirt-bike, all because he'd questioned a sorcerer's ability to make it.

Sheila.

"Sheila," he told Solomon with a grin when he was asked. "Elegant, but fierce."

He was burning with the desire to ask more questions, so many more questions, but he couldn't. Not with his mother there. He'd just have to come back and ask Paddy later, because he wasn't going to find the answers in a quick internet search. If there were any answers that way, Sean would have found them long before now.

He gripped the handles of his new motorbike, smiling at the thought that he might actually crash it. He was far too skilled for that. "Thank you. Thank you so much."