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The sounds of neoPlast swords knocking together and boots on stone greet Sevro and ranite fountains and along the dareen needles drift in cumulous shapes frorotto, under the watching eyes of the gargoyles adorning the fountains, a young boy and girl circle each other at the center of a chalk circle The seven other children of their pack watch on, along with two Gold women Sevro pulls ht on the edge of a granite fountain to watch

The boy at the center of the circle is ten, lean and proud He laughs like his mother and broods like his father His hair is the color of straw, his face round and flushed with youth Rose-gold eyes burn froer than I remember, older, and it feels so impossible that he could have cohts of his own That he’ll love, smile, die like the rest of us

His brow is furrowed now in concentration Sweat pours down his face,blow

The girl is nine and narrow-faced like a sleek hunting dog Electra, the eldest of Sevro’s three daughters, is taller than my son and twice as thin But while Pax radiates an inner joy that irl Her eyes are dusky gold and hidden behind heavy lids So with an aloofness that reminds me of her mother

Sevro leans forward eagerly “I’ll wager Aja’s razor against Apollonius’s helm that my wee monster beats the piss out of your boy”

“I’nation

“I’ll throw Aja’s Institute ring in as well”

“Have some decency, Sevro They’re our children”

“And Octavia’s cape”

“I want the Falthe Ivory Tree”

Sevro gasps “I love the Ivory Tree Where else will I hang my trophies?”

I shrug “No Ivory Tree, no bet”

“Bloodyda out a hand to shake “You have a deal” Sevro’s beco a hoard of trophies fros their rings and weapons and crests frohs of the ivory tree he uprooted from the House Falthe compound on Earth and moved to his home on Luna

We watch as Electra redoubles her onslaught against Pax My son continues to back away, to sidestep, allowing her to overextend Once she does, he twirls his plastic razor toward her rib cage It connects lightly “Point!” he shouts