he wasn’t worried about his age. “Now, you have two options. You can come inside and sit quietly while Luykas and I work, or you can go. I don’t have the energy to listen to stories of war today, my niece. I must keep teaching him, then take a nap.”
“Is that how you’re going to treat me?” Mave sighed. “I wanted to come check in on you.”
“And you have,” he retorted, still holding that lovely but tired smile. “I’ll come over for dinner later this week if that will make you feel better.”
Mave nodded, then stepped back. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“At my age, love from a female such as yourself is less of a blessing and more of a curse. Please, love me a little less.” His smile turned indulgent. “Go enjoy the village, see your friends. Don’t waste your time on an old male like me. Please.”
She waved and jumped off, promising herself to keep bothering him before he left. She glided over the valley, looking down at the Andinna going about their business. Every season brought more improvements to their quality of life. They weren’t a ramshackle group of survivors anymore. If anything, Leshaun’s retirement from the Company was a promising sign. Finally, they could offer him a real retirement, away from the troubles, while the young Andinna fought the war.
Mave landed in a small clearing, away from the group in the center. Emerian and Trevan sparred as Dave watched. Ten feet from them, the gryphon lay in the sun as he cleaned between the feathers of his wings.
The duel was the most interesting thing. Emerian was using a modified sickle that looked more like a scythe with a longer handle. Trevan used a morok, given to him by Luykas. Mave liked the idea of Trevan using a traditional Andinna blade. The first time she had seen it, she hadn’t questioned it. Like the gryphon, if there was an Elvasi who deserved to be among the Andinna, it was Trevan.
They clashed and jumped away from each other. Emerian used his better range to try to take Trevan’s legs out from under him. Trevan was fast, though. Centuries of practice and a different type of training from most Andinna, he fought differently.
He jumped over the scythe, a practiced move. When he landed, he didn’t miss a beat, launching another attack and getting into Emerian’s space, too close for the scythe to do anything but block with the wooden handle, which had a chunk taken out as the steel morok cut into it.
Trevan backed off without anyone needing to call it.
“I think that one is mine,” he said, grinning as he wiped sweat from his forehead.
“I think so,” Emerian agreed, leaning over and panting. “But I’m getting better.”
Mave clapped as she walked closer. All four of them looked at her, including the gryphon.
“You are,” she confirmed, nodding appreciatively at the unique mutt. His face lit up as he registered what she said. “You’ll be ready for combat before summer is over, won’t you?”
“I hope so,” he said, the grin making his face seem centuries younger than he was. Mave was less than a century older than him, but they had lived two very different lives.
“Welcome back,” Trevan greeted softly. He was a soft-spoken man who never felt the need to raise his voice above conversation level, something she had picked up on in one of their earliest conversations. Something about it was soothing when she was normally surrounded by brash, loud, opinionated Andinna.
Maybe that’s why I sought them out.
“I would offer to join in, but I didn’t bring my swords,” she said, gesturing to her empty hips.
“No, no!” Trevan chuckled. “You should take some time off—no reason to train with us, anyway. We’ve been doing well without you or Luykas hovering. Sometimes, we spar with Matesh or Zayden, and they’ve kept us honest.”
“Good.”
Emerian chose that moment to jump on Trevan’s back, laughing.
“Honest? You mean living in fear of being told we were lazy by that fucking grouch.”
Even Mave laughed as Trevan shook off his friend, and they began to tussle, rolling in the dirt, taking swings, all light.
Dave walked up beside her and sighed.
“They’re always like this,” he commented, the humor in his words so clear, she nearly couldn’t stop laughing.
“Good,” she repeated. She saw nothing wrong with it. Seeing an Elvasi and an Andinna, even a mutt, become close friends was a promising sign for their people. One day, the fighting would be over, and it would be