The Grisham household was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came after a long day. The moonlight spilled across the wooden floors, casting faint silver lines through the shutters.
Everyone had long since retired. Professor Grisham snoring faintly in his study, Aerin curled up like a cat in her blankets, Auron sprawled dramatically as if sleep itself was a performance, and Zann, normally dead to the world, stirring only when the night grew too hot.
But there was one sound that broke the silence.
A low thrum, followed by the sharp clang of steel against stone.
Zann's eyes cracked open. At first, he thought it was part of a dream, but when he heard it again. This time followed by a frustrated grunt, he sat up. Quietly, he padded down the stairs, instincts making him tread as lightly as if the floor were about to betray him.
In the yard, bathed in pale moonlight, was Aleck.
