“I’m hungry,” Kewyn mumbled, but did not move.
We all made generally agreeing sounds, but I was too tired to even be hungry. After about ten minutes of lazing about, Aenlilea burst in, dressed and cleaned up from his interesting flight.
“What’s for dinner?” He asked happily, oblivious to our glares.
He did not help in getting the ship back up the hill at all. I supposed that was the advantage to being the genius behind the operation. With a groan, Kewyn pulled herself off the couch and began shuffling around the kitchen. Aenlilea took her place on the couch and began chatting cheerfully.
“I figure if I spend the rest of the evening and all tomorrow that the ship should be ready to fly by the next morning.” He grinned.
“You mean ready for another test flight?” Rio asked, but Aenlilea shook his head.
“Nope, I mean ready to go. Once I make a few changes, we’ll be flying up to that Spire without any trouble.”
A plate clattered noisily against the floor, chipping but not breaking. All eyes turned to Kewyn, who stared at the plate as if it had just insulted her mother. Slowly, she bent and picked it up, muttering, “Sorry.” Whether the apology was to us or the plate was entirely unknown.
Aenlilea frowned, his eyes lingering on his daughter for a moment before he stood up.
“We’re going out!” He said.
“What?” Kewyn said.
“It’s a night to celebrate!” Aenlilea walked over to his daughter and ruffled her hair. “Is it not?”
“Well, yes, I suppose,” Kewyn said.
“Let’s go then!” Aenlilea shouted. Rio jumped to his feet and followed the mechanic out the door. I glanced at Levent, and we stood. Kewyn locked the house up behind us.
Despite the fact that the night was well underway, Little Oenferia was buzzing with life. The square that had so impressed me upon first visiting the Aenlilea’s was lit up, lanterns hanging across the streets. Everyone was bundled for the autumn weather, but all the activity made it feel like a mid-summer festival.