Ava's War: Book 3 of 3

Chapter 7

At the creak of old wood, Ava sat up in bed. She listened for a moment, smiling when she recognized the careful footsteps of her grandmother. Yesterday, after Sheba had deposited her back at the farmhouse, they'd had an uneventful dinner and spent the rest of the evening around the fire trading stories and catching up. Today would be Ava and Owen's last full day at the farmhouse, and Ava wanted to catch her grandmother for her pre-dawn tea ritual. It was a sacred time for the two of them. The darkness, the grogginess, the whispered conversation had always made it seem like those moments existed outside of normal time and space.

She threw on her clothes and crept down the stairs, saying a silent hello to the moon out the landing window.

Her grandmother's smile when she entered the kitchen was the best moment of her visit so far.

"I hope I didn't wake you, dear," Lena said, trying to sound repentant, but the effect was somewhat diminished by the smile still lighting up her face.

"I was listening for your footsteps," Ava admitted. "I wasn't sure if you still got up before the birds."

"Always before the birds. I find the moon and I spend more time than ever together these days."

"Careful, or the sun will get jealous," Ava quipped, but she was troubled by her grandmother's answer. "Can't sleep?"

"Ah, sleep. Yes. Too many visitors come to me when I'm sleeping, visitors I'd rather not see."

Ava didn't push. Changing the subject, she asked, "Peppermint or jasmine?"

"Rooibos actually," Lena said dryly. "It makes me feel like I'm living on the edge. Mixing up my morning tea."

"Rooibos it is. Although I'm not sure how I feel about my grandmother being more daring than I am."

"The old have nothing to lose. Why not dare? Just last week I made jam without properly sterilizing my mason jars."

"Grand-ma," Ava groaned. You have a lot to lose, you are loved, she added in her head, but she wasn't brave enough to say it aloud. She wondered if her grandmother had been underplaying how much the Elders' censure had affected her.

The teakettle whistled. Ava prepared the tea and handed a mug to her grandmother, who had settled in at the kitchen table. She was staring out at the moon, a faraway look in her eyes.

"Can I see it?"

"The alliance stone?" Ava asked, trying not to look surprised.

Lena nodded. The motion was eager, aggressive. Her grandmother's expression was that of a child watching a birthday cake being sliced into pieces. She reached a hand out to Ava.

"Ok, Bilbo Baggins, sure," Ava said.

Lena smiled, but didn't pull her hand away.

Ava drew the necklace out of her pocket. She studied it for a moment—admiring the clever artistry that had so seamlessly fused rock Earth and metal dagger.

Lena grasped the necklace and held it up in front of the light, her whole manner relaxing. After a moment, her eyes darkened.

"Do you take me for a fool?" Lena hissed. "Do you think I've gone soft in my old age? What have you done with it?"

"What? Grandma, are you—"

Lena jumped up, knocking her chair to the floor, and pointed accusingly at her granddaughter. "What have you done with the real alliance stone?" she thundered, enunciating every word.

For a terrifying moment Ava saw not her kind, sweet grandmother but the fierce-eyed Gaia warrior who had ridden an Amazon wrought of lava into battle against the Ares. She wished suddenly that they weren't alone, that the rest of the house was not asleep.