Ashes and Rain: Sequel to Khe (The Ahsenthe Cycle Book 2) Page 4

  “Early rain is lucky,” she said, holding out her arms as if to embrace us. “It’ll bring lush crops, and everyone will have enough to eat. We’re celebrating. Come join in.”

  “Does rain turn them into babblers?” Nez asked, but smiled.

  The corentans could have been mistaken for babblers easily enough. Some still had their faces upturned to the sky, thin rivulets of water sluicing down their cheeks. Others were hopping up and down, and still others swaying with their arms in the air, like trees in a wind. Azlii had set her carry-sack down on a flat rock on the Commons edge.

  “Come on,” she said. “I’ll teach you both to dance.”

  Nez pulled up her shoulders. “Khe is tired.”

  “Pftt,” Azlii said. “You set-place doumanas have no idea how to enjoy yourselves.” She turned and headed back toward her sisters, swinging her hips in rhythm to a song only she heard.

  Nez took my elbow and started toward Home, but her eyes lingered on the others and a faint blue-yellow blush of wanting was on her neck.

  “Let’s stay,” I said. “I’ll sit and watch. You dance.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nodded. Nez grinned and trotted off after Azlii.

  I folded my legs under me and sat on the damp ground, my carry-sack and Nez’s balanced on my lap. The cold seemed to crawl into my bones. I rearranged my cloak so it was under me, which was better. I’d never seen anyone dance outside of Resonance, and then only the males, trying to attract our attention so we’d choose them for mating — the one free choice we could make in our lives. I slipped my fingers into one of the sacks and stroked the feather-soft fabric of a Bethon cloak, for the comfort it brought.

  Kroot. Kroot kroot, Home sent, and sounded very excited. Azlii, Nez, and I were in the receiving room. Azlii and I looked up expectantly.

  Wall has spotted something, Home sent.

  Kelroosh was in flight, traveling toward Lunge commune. I wondered what Wall could have seen — something in the air, or something below us? I was halfway to my feet to climb the stairs to the upper story and try to see when Home sent, Hatchlings! Wall says there are hatchlings on the plain.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Azlii said aloud.

  Nez looked up from the cloth she was decorating with colored threads sewn into patterns. “What?”

  “Home says that Wall has spotted hatchlings on the plain below us,” I said.

  “It’s past gathering time,” Nez said, her hand held paused in mid-stitch. “Why would they be on the plain?”

  Azlii pressed her lips together and thought-talked to Kelroosh, Something’s wrong. Please set down as close to them as possible.

  Of course something’s wrong, Home sent. We’re already slowing and looking for a spot to land.

  My stomach lurched as Kelroosh came to a sudden stop. Nez swayed forward on her pillow and yelped, her cloth, needle, and thread flying from her grasp. She braced her hands against the floor. Azlii must have been used to this kind of thing because although she swayed on her pillow, she rode out the stuttering stop as if it were merely an inconvenience. We landed with a bang that shuddered through my body, from my feet, up my spine, to my skull.

  Nez blew out a loud breath of air, clearly glad to have lived through the experience. Azlii got to her feet quickly, grabbed her cloak from the wall peg and headed for the front door, which Home had already opened. She threw a glance over her shoulder.

  “Come on,” she said. “You two are the hatchling experts, not me.”

  Nez and I took our cloaks from the pegs and followed after her.

  Dust swirled in the air, spewed up from our sudden landing, and was caught in the mist that fell from the grey-brown sky. Corentans spilled out of their dwellings, chattering with each other, and heading toward the main gate.

  The gate was closed when we reached it. Wall sent, Azlii is in charge. I’ll open the gate when she says so.

  I realized that Wall had only told Home, and Home had only told us about the hatchlings on the plain — which explained why the rest of the corentans had necks aflame with the blue-red of anxiety.

  Azlii held up her hand and pitched her voice so everyone could hear.

  “Wall has spotted some hatchlings alone on the plain. I don’t know why they’re there. Confusion with the pick-up orders or something. Khe, Nez, and I will go speak with them and see what we can learn.”

  The other corentans had gone quiet, listening to Azlii. Now they burst into words, like calling birds at sunrise.

  Wall, Azlii sent, if you would, please.

  The gate opened. Nez and I followed Azlii out onto a flat, wild plain. New sprouts of denish and tano poked here and there through the soil. The dirt was rusty brown-red. A copse of trees, their leaves beginning to bud in the same shade as the soil, stood before us. Through the trees we could see a small group of downy, yellow hatchlings huddled together. They stared at us with large, frightened eyes. Thanks to the lumani’s tinkering that made my ears as sharp as my eyes, I heard their soft mewling even at this distance.

  Or maybe it wasn’t the lumani’s doing. I could tell Azlii didn’t hear it, but Nez had her head cocked, her left ear hole turned slightly toward the sound. Azlii liked hatchlings — everyone did — but Nez and I treasured them in our hearts. Maybe that made us more attuned.

  “They’re crying,” I said, and Nez nodded.

  Azlii looked at us. “What are they doing here? They should have been picked up and distributed already.”

  “They must be hungry,” Nez said. “They will have licked their eggs dry by now.”

  Seeing us, the hatchlings clustered closer to one another — if that was possible — and kept their wary eyes on us. Nez smiled and started towards them, making soft, cooing noises in her throat. The hatchlings watched her come, some shifting foot to foot, but they didn’t run away. Maybe they were too weak to run. They were very thin.

  When Nez was about halfway to them, she turned back and waved for us to come. Azlii stayed where she was, but I headed toward the hatchlings, cooing much as Nez had. I walked as fast as I could manage, but didn’t rush, so I wouldn’t scare anyone.

  “Who is the bravest among you?” I said when I reached them.

  A few looked at the ground, but most turned their heads and looked at one particular hatchling. It stood tall and smiled tentatively at Nez and me. It didn’t have emotion spots yet. Those wouldn’t emerge until it did, leaving its hatchling state behind and becoming a doumana.

  Or a male, I thought suddenly. Hatchlings all look similar, not getting their own true faces and bodies until after emergence. This group could be all female, all male, or a mix of both. We had no way of knowing without a closer look. But they were alone and starving; what sex they were was of no matter.

  I looked at the bold hatchling. “What’s your name?”

  “Darnan.” Its voice was soft and weak.

  “What are you doing here? Are there more of you?” The nesting ground was large. There would have been many eggs laid here. There should be more than the twice-four hatchlings standing before us.

  “Only us,” Darnan said. “A big thing that moved along the ground came. Doumanas were in it. They grab up everybody until the box was full. They left us behind.”

  Nez knelt next to me. Her spots were lit brown-black in anger.

  “How could the gatherers leave them?” she whispered.

  I didn’t have an answer, only the guess that the gatherers meant to return, but something had happened.

  Another hatchling spoke up, drawing me back from my thoughts. “We had eats, but they’re gone.”

  Azlii strode up beside Nez and me, and spoke low. “We’ll take them with us. This place isn’t a corentan mating ground, so they can’t stay with us long, but we’ll reason out a solution. We’ll have to find someone who knows how to tell doumana from male hatchling.”

  “I can do that,” I said. I’d never seen a male hatchling, but I’d seen plenty of proto-doumanas and t
hought I could figure out if there was some sort of marking distinction.

  “My work in Chimbalay was at a hatchling house,” Nez said. “I know the differences.”

  “Maybe we should separate them now, then,” Azlii said.

  Nez’s spots flared brown-black again. “You can’t leave any of them here. They won’t survive.”

  “Pftt,” Azlii said, but no spots lit on her neck. Whatever she felt wasn’t strong enough to note, or to stop our taking all the hatchlings.

  Nez pointed to Kelroosh and said, “That is our living place. It’ll be yours too, for a while. Come on now and we’ll find you something good to eat.”

  Even the shyest hatchling grew excited at the thought of food — and likely shelter and company, too. They gathered around us like a soft yellow cloud, and together we returned to Kelroosh.

  The rest of the corentans were gathered by the gate. Wall was quick to take credit for having spotted the hatchlings, sending how fortunate it was that it had superior senses, seeing and hearing far more than mere doumanas could imagine. Wall did have excellent hearing, and had sent the gist of our conversations with the hatchlings to the doumanas who’d stayed behind. Most were excited to have the hatchlings among us, but I heard more than one corentan complain that they were just more mouths to feed.

  “They’re right,” Azlii said once we’d settled the newcomers in with Kelroosh’s own young, leaving Nez at the hatchling house to help with the transition. “It is more mouths to feed, and we all know how hatchlings can eat.” She looked at me. “Is Simanca vain?”

  I half laughed under my breath — at the abrupt change of subject and at the question. “She has her vanities. Mostly about what a brilliant leader she is for Lunge. Why?”

  “Does she like to decorate herself? We have those Bethon Blue cloaks. Very difficult for a commune leader to ever have enough credits to buy one of those. Do you think she would lust for one enough to trade for the food we need?”

  The cloaks were beautiful, tightly woven and as soft as feathers. A cold part of me didn’t want Simanca to have anything so fine.

  “She’d lust more for the hatchlings, unless she’s completely changed who she is in her heart.”

  Azlii raised her eyebrow ridges. “Good. Two solutions in one transaction. We’ll head for Lunge tomorrow at first light. In the meantime, I hope Nez can figure out which of those hatchlings are doumana, and which not. Simanca likely wouldn’t be too happy if we left her with males.”

  Azlii and Nez were quiet as we sat at the table, eating the morning meal in Home instead of at the communiteria today. Not that it was all that unusual for Nez to be quiet, but Azlii was normally a wellspring of words. She reminded me of my sister at Lunge, Thedra, that way. I was quiet myself. My heart ached with wanting to see Thedra today, and Jit and Stoss, my unitmates at Lunge, the place that had been my home until just a few seasons ago. That life seemed a fever dream now, and all that had happened these last few seasons my only real life. But Lunge was real. Simanca was real. The ache in my heart turned to nerves and resentment.

  Kelroosh had settled onto the plain outside Lunge commune the night before. Soon Wall would throw open the front gate and Simanca and her unitmates would come to trade.

  I huffed out a harsh breath.

  “Thinking of Simanca?” Azlii said, not looking up.

  I nodded and looked down at my bowl. I’d eaten none of it, and thought I should donate it for the hatchlings.

  Corentans usually shared a communal morning meal — a daily reminder that all in Kelroosh were one — but ate alone at night, for individual reflection and contemplation. Of all the doumanas of Kelroosh, only Azlii shared her home, and that was only out of kindness to Nez and me, kler and commune doumanas that we were, who couldn’t imagine living without our sisters always near. Each night they set a place for me, and served a meal, as if somehow my appetite would return and we could all go back to who and what we were before the lumani.

  “You don’t have to meet with Simanca,” Azlii said. “But you should.”

  “Why should she?” Nez asked. “Khe doesn’t miss Simanca. There’s no love between them. Simanca isn’t going to suddenly break down and apologize for her ill treatment of Khe — not from what I’ve heard about her.”

  Sweet Nez; the one doumana I told most everything to. I didn’t know why her and not Azlii. Ever since we’d come to Kelroosh, I’d felt more in harmony with Nez, maybe because we were both set-placers.

  “Because,” Azlii said, “the unfinished past haunts her. Better to seize the moment and see Simanca for what she is, not what Khe has built her up to be.”

  “I want to seize her by the throat and strike her down,” I said, a little ashamed of my feelings, a little embarrassed by my own honest outburst. But speech was all I had left, now that my spots no longer lit — the only way for my sisters to know my emotions. Except Nez. She knew already.

  “Weast is the only other being who made me feel this way.” I hadn’t said that name since leaving Chimbalay the night we’d destroyed the all the lumani, including Weast — the one that had chosen me to be its mate. The one that had made me what I now was. Weast and Simanca. Funny how I thought of them together.

  “My point exactly,” Azlii said. “See her. Strike her if you want to.”

  I laughed without humor. “I thought corentans were against violence.”

  “Mostly,” Azlii said.

  “I’ll meet with her.” I was amazed at the words that had jumped from my mouth. Only seconds earlier I never would have said them.

  Opening the gate, I heard Wall sending to the doumanas of Kelroosh, alerting them to be ready.

  “How are you feeling today?” Azlii asked. Meaning, was I strong enough physically to see Simanca?

  “Good,” I said. “Better than the day of the dancing doumanas. I was tired then.”

  Pradat’s treatment seemed to be holding — or more rightly, coming and going. My body wasn’t as strong as it had been, but was stronger now than after Weast had finished changing me. Maybe it wasn’t too late. I held on to the hope for a moment, and then threw it away. Too early to hope when disappointment could be so close on its heels. Commemoration Day was coming, if I made it that far.

  “Your Simanca likes to meet in Community Hall.” Red-purple flared on Azlii’s neck, and I wondered what she thought was funny.

  “Hall can’t stand her,” she said. “Thinks she’s a beast. Always has, even before we knew you, Khe. I don’t like her either. I try to get the best end of any dealings with her.”

  I stared, stunned. All of my life at Lunge, I’d watched Simanca visit corentas to trade for goods. She always went with only her unitmates, to spare the rest of us from contact with the evil corentans — who were only slightly less dangerous than babblers, in Simanca’s telling. I’d never considered that Kelroosh might have had Lunge commune on its route, or that Azlii and the others might know the doumana who had used me so badly. Your Simanca, Azlii called her. My Simanca.

  Azlii patted my shoulder. “You’re going to be my best tool today. Once Simanca sets her eyes on you, she’ll be too shocked to do anything but give us what we want.”

  The ice-blue of pleasure-in-another’s-woes glowed faintly on her neck. It startled me. This wasn’t an emotion doumanas allowed themselves often. We didn’t have a compact word for it, and I’d only seen the color a few times, most often on Simanca. As nervous as I was about seeing Simanca again, a part of me shared Azlii’s dark glee at the idea of breaking Simanca’s perfect composure. I saw it in my mind’s eye — Simanca, always sure of herself, always calm, shocked and weakened by the sight of me. The thought cheered me. Some.

  “What I’d like you to do,” Azlii said, fastening a collar around her neck, “is wait outside Hall until I call for you. Hall can keep you informed about what’s going on inside. I’d tell you myself, but if I have to think-talk to you, it splits my concentration.”

  I nodded agreement and let out a sigh. T
he sigh helped, but my heart kept pounding in my chest. My neck felt hot. I didn’t like that Simanca still had power over me. I breathed in, slowly and deeply.

  Azlii and Nez put on light cloaks for the short walk to Hall. I put on a heavier one, not knowing how long I’d be waiting outside. The weather had turned cold for First Warmth, and the mist, drizzle, and occasional hard rain had hardly let up for days. Even the corentans who’d danced in the first drops were beginning to grumble.

  Hall kept up a running commentary on the conversation inside it, not only telling me what was said, but how each doumana behaved, who leaned forward, who leaned away, whose eyes narrowed during the negotiations.

  Hall laughed with that deep wind sound and sent, Doumanas cover their necks to hide their emotions, but their bodies still speak.

  We don’t notice that, I sent back. I swung my arms to warm myself. The effort was tiring. I leaned against Hall’s side for support.

  Doumanas should pay attention, Hall sent. But you do. You pay attention without knowing you’ve paid attention. I see it in the way your body moves — you tilt your head very slightly and go still. You must begin to notice these things in yourself if you are to be the most you of all.

  Before I could reply, Hall sent. Azlii wants you now.

  I took a step, half stumbled, and clenched my fists in frustration. This was no time for my legs to go weak. It wasn’t only physical weakness that made my legs feel like water reeds — fear stripped the strength from my muscles.

  Tav would be with Simanca, I told myself. Sweet Tav, who had schooled me as a hatchling, and had always been kind.

  Hall swung open the door and I walked into the main chamber. Azlii was already looking my way. I watched as the doumanas of Lunge shifted their eyes to see what she was looking at. I focused on Simanca. Her mouth dropped open, and then snapped shut. She pulled herself up as tall as she could. Her body was as stiff as an icicle, her face a mask of one pleasantly surprised.