Malia POV:
The Aeonian airport's landing strip jutted out from the island's bustling harbor like a strand of hair straying from its head. A strip of road surrounded by the sea and an aviation tower handled all traffic. As the plane's exit door whooshed open, Grace gave Malia a meaningful nod that conveyed trust and deference. Charles lightly squeezed her neck, saying the same.
“Your lead," Charles said.
Malia led the foursome as they exited the jet and looked around. The landing strip lay vacant and unattended. Only one woman—young, in her early 20s—stood beside an automobile that resembled an old, open carriage, waving to them. She wore several orange bandanas flared with extravagant knots around her body.
'Salutee!' she said in Aeonian, waving a bandana. “Hello!"
“They didn't exac
