The weapons hung on their rack, and he whispered the names of each, in order.
Xiphos.
Kopis.
Dory---or dorata, if there are two or more.
Laughter drifted from the kitchen, breaking the boyâs concentration, and he looked over in irritation.
Mother held a bowl of strawberries, while fake rabbits crowded the counter, begging to be fed, pressing her with shining whiskers and twitching noses. Dadâs lanky limbs were sprawled against the counter opposite, prodding the air with his thin fingers to encourage the bunnies in harassing her.
(Ellis knew they were fake because firstly, he wouldâve noticed if his dad had come back with half a dozen new pets, and secondly, they were always fake. The apartment was too small and crowded for real rabbits, and they would never have enough extra food to give them, or time to build a proper hutch.)
He scowled. Could they stop playing games with one another for just a little while?
His mother was pretending to give in to the bullying and feed them, no doubt scattering bits of strawberry all over the counter. If he acted like that he would be scolded and made to pick up the pieces, and probably have to sit through a full lesson on Illusions, even though he could never manage more than a few wisps of cloud himself. But he was still only six and couldnât protect himself, so his job was to learn. They had already learned everything, so they could do whatever they pleased.
He pushed down the frustration, making his mind calm, and turned back to the weapons rack.
