Ashes and Rain: Sequel to Khe (The Ahsenthe Cycle Book 2) (10 page)

“There’s no one here,” Azlii said. “No one.”

Nez’s spots lit purple-gray with concern. “Why would doumanas desert their commune?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine anything that would force my sisters off Lunge.

“Beasts?” Azlii said. “Scared by the world-shiver and running in madness through the commune?”

“The doumanas didn’t come this way,” I said. “Look around. Where are their footprints? They must have fled south, toward the hills.”

We stood a moment, thinking about that, until Binley said, “We should get back to Kelroosh.”

Nez, Binley, and I turned to start walking, but Azlii didn’t move. She stared at the silos and the preslets.

“Find some carrying bags,” she said finally. “As big as you think you can carry full.”

I looked at Azlii, expecting to see the brown-green of shame all over her neck — it was theft she was planning, as great a sin as lying. The only color I saw was the ocher of impatience.

“Come on, you three. Get a move on. We’ll pay the Grunewald doumanas when they return. But we need food now.”

I didn’t fault her logic, but couldn’t make my feet move. It was Nez who said, “I saw bags inside.”

We found the thick, canvas bags and filled five with grain and two with squawking, unhappy preslets. At most it would make a day’s full meals, but a day’s meals were more than we’d have soon enough if we didn’t bring back what we’d found. Still, it didn’t feel right to me. I knew Kelroosh needed the food — and once I had stolen food myself in Chimbalay — but this was not something any commune doumana would do to another. To take food. To steal seeds that would be food in the future. It was wrong.

But I wasn’t a commune doumana any longer. I was of Kelroosh, though not corentan, and my corenta-sisters needed what lay in those silos.

I could only carry one bag. Nez and Binley carried the other four filled with grain, and Azlii carried the six unruly preslets, struggling to escape the sacks.

Shoosh
now
, I sent to the preslets, to calm them down.
Shoosh
.
Shoosh
. I felt the birds settle, but I knew it wouldn’t last.
Look
at
this
, I sent to the birds.
This
is
where
you
are
going
. I visualized Kelroosh, the preslets running free on the commons and through the village. The bagged birds squirmed, but with anticipation now, not fear.

The four of us struggled under our burdens, heading back across the muddy fields. I kept sending the preslets calming visions, but part of me watched the stiffness in Azlii’s and Nez’s spines and I knew they were thinking the same thing I was: Where were the doumanas of Grunewald commune?

Azlii came to a sudden stop and pointed toward a structure set away from the others, nearly backed into the hills. “What is that?”

Binley shook her head. Nez shrugged.

“A smokehouse,” I said. “For preserving beast-meat. Only the wealthiest farming communes have them. Simanca wanted one for Lunge. She might have won it, too, in the ten-year competition, if I hadn’t left.”

Azlii kept her eyes on the structure. “Would there be food in there?”

“Maybe. It could all have been eaten by now.”

“Let’s go see,” she said.

The other four started toward the smokehouse, but I said, “Wait. Something’s wrong.”

Azlii sighed. “Something’s wrong in this whole commune. We’ll come back and pay for the food, I promise you that.”

“No,” I said. “See how the building is leaning slightly? Like a big hand pushed it.”

Nez squinted her eyes and cocked her head. “A little. Maybe. I can’t tell from this distance.”

My steps faltered as we walked to the smokehouse. The closer we came to it, the more my neck burned. I set down the sack I was carrying. The structure definitely leaned, but I couldn’t see a reason for it. Azlii had sped her steps, impatient with my worries and me. She disappeared around the side of the smokehouse.

When she reappeared moments later, her neck spots glowed gray-red with shock.

“Hurry,” she called.

Nez and Binley dropped their sacks and ran, their footprints deep in the mud.

I came around the side of the structure. The hillside behind it had let loose. Mud and rocks had pushed through the back wall. A river of mud filled the smokehouse almost to the rafters.

“I saw a foot,” Azlii said, throwing off her cloak. “Someone’s in there. Help me.”

We dug handfuls and armfuls of mud, throwing them to the sides, the gritty, sticky sludge wet enough to squeeze water from. Azlii reached her first, the doumana whose foot poked from the muck.

We freed the foot past the ankle, up the leg, almost to the knee. Nez had found her other leg and worked to free it. I inched my way up the mud and found her head, digging fast but carefully, hoping there was an air pocket and she might still be alive.

I stared down at the doumana’s still face. “You can stop digging.”

“But maybe…” Nez said from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder and shook my head.

“We’ll get her free anyway,” Azlii said, “out of respect.”

I dug down around her, moving the mud away from her neck and shoulders. Azlii took one leg, Binley and Nez the other. The ground was slick beneath us. I dug the toes of my foot casings into the mud. Azlii nodded, and they pulled while I lifted and pushed.

The low, gray clouds opened and a sudden hard rain fell.

“Now what?” Binley said. “We can’t build a pyre for her, not in this wet.”

“We’ll have to leave her,” Azlii said.

I swung around to face Azlii. “No. Beasts will get at her out in the open. We can take her to the community hall. Her sisters will find her and give her proper treatment when they return.”

“I didn’t mean to leave her in the open, Khe,” Azlii said. “We’ll have to leave her without a proper pyre and ceremony.”

“If her sisters were in there with her, they’re as Returned as she is,” Binley said, glancing around.

My neck grew hotter. Her unitmates would have been with her, at the least. Whatever brought this doumana to the smokehouse, she would have sisters with her, to help.

“We don’t have time to dig through for any others who might be here,” Azlii said. “It could be days of effort.” She glanced over at the sacks we’d left on the ground. “This rain will soak those through. The grain will be ruined.

“Her other sisters left her.” Nez’s voice was tight. “The ones who hadn’t come to the smokehouse. Left, and ran away. How could they do that?”

“They didn’t know anyone was here,” I said, trying to soothe her.

One spot of soft-yellow-green bloomed on Nez’s neck, but her doubt was misplaced. She didn’t know commune doumanas the way I did. They wouldn’t have left — not if they knew their sisters were in danger.”

“Or they tried to save them and couldn’t,” I said.

Azlii nodded. “Two landslides. Maybe more.”

“Where are the rest of them?” Binley asked. “They’re not all buried in the smokehouse.”

There was no answer to that. Azlii picked up her muddy, wet cloak and slung it over her arm. “Clear a space and put the sacks in the smokehouse. We’ll get this doumana into their community hall and come back for the food. We have sisters of our own we need to help.”

No one spoke on the walk back, each lost in her own thoughts. It was hardest on Nez, I thought, being kler-raised and insulated from the sorts of accidents that happened on a commune. But Nez had been taken by the lumani. She knew about panic and pain. She understood about making hard choices for the greater good.

In Kelroosh we went straight to Home to dry ourselves and get clean garments — and to think. The five grain sacks and two bags of preslets were stowed in a corner of the receiving room. Azlii told Home about the abandoned commune, the mud-filled smokehouse, and the Returned doumana, but asked Home to keep the news to itself for a while, until a decision was reached.

Home sent,
You
should
tell
Community
Hall
what
happened
.
Between
the
five
of
us
,
we
will
,
I
am
sure
,
come
to
a
fine
solution
.

“That’s a good idea,” I said aloud.

Nez looked at me, her lips pulled taut. “Could I be in the conversation too?”

I touched her neck lightly. “Home suggested we bring Community Hall in on the decision-making.”

Azlii shook her head. “I’ve thought it through already. The only solution is the obvious and true one. We’ll take the grain and preslets to the communiteria. We’ll tell everyone about the abandoned commune.”

“Won’t they be upset?” Nez asked.

“Of course they’ll be upset,” Azlii said, fastening on a dry hipwrap. “Food stores practically gone. Leaders who can hardly decide if they should get up in the morning, much less what supplies they need. All this rain out of season. A planet that is suddenly shaking like a frightened hatchling. And now an abandoned commune. We’ll put our sisters right to work getting ready for travel.” She ran her hand over her scalp. “The three of us will go to see Larta. Maybe she knows something.”

My breath caught in my chest and my neck warmed. “Pradat warned me to stay out of Chimbalay. You and Nez go.”

“Really, Khe? The short amount of time you have left and you’re going to spend it being afraid to walk into Chimbalay? I’d pegged you for a different sort of doumana than that.”

I made a noise that could be interpreted many ways. Sometimes the fact that my spots no longer lit was helpful.

“Besides,” Azlii said, “I need you, Khe. Most kler doumanas have never met anyone from a commune. Only you can explain the commune viewpoint so that Larta and I understand.”

“I don’t like it,” Nez said.

I touched each of the lit spots on Nez’s neck. “Azlii is right. I don’t want to go into Chimbalay and flaunt myself to those who are angry with me, but I can’t live what’s left of my life being afraid. And I’d very much like to see Larta again.”

Azlii clapped her hand against her thigh. “Good. It’s decided then.” She glanced at the corner where the goods had been left. “Let’s get these noisy birds out of here. We should be on the travel before sunset.”

“Going up,” Azlii said.

An unnecessary warning — the lurch in my stomach had already told me Kelroosh was rising. Nez yelped and grabbed my hand.

“Pftt,” Azlii said. “You really should go get your fabric and colored threads, Nez. Something to keep you busy and your mind occupied while we travel.”

Azlii could be as blunt as a broken knife.

Kelroosh banked suddenly. Nez leaned so far into the turn she nearly rolled over, and squeezed my hand tightly. I stroked her neck with my free hand.

As quickly as the bank had come, Kelroosh straightened and began to slow. Then it seemed we tilted slightly and began circling.

Kroot
Kroot
, Home sent to get our attention.
Wall
says
there
are
doumanas
in
the
hills
.

That
old
Wall
is
starting
to
see
things
, Azlii sent.
We
pass
over
these
hills
all
the
time
.
No
doumanas
live
there
.
No
doumanas
live
in
any
hills
anywhere
.

“What’s happening?” Nez asked.

“Wall thinks it sees doumanas in the hills,” I said.

If
Wall
says
there
are
doumanas
, Home sent,
then
there
are
.
Wall
is
never
wrong
.

“Wall did spot the hatchlings,” I reminded Azlii.

Azlii rubbed the ridge over her right eye.
Can
we
set
down
?
Is
there
room
?

I heard the soft whirring that structures sometimes made to each other — their native language, I presumed, something doumanas couldn’t translate.

Wall
says
there’s
no
flat
space
big
enough
,
and
that
Azlii
should
come
take
a
look
for
herself
.

Azlii sucked in her cheeks.
Do
I
look
like
a
babbler
?
The
one
thing
we
never
do
is
step
outside
during
travel
.
The
true
soil
of
Kelroosh
is
too
thin
to
support
our
weight
.

Home sent,
The
soil
will
move
around
and
thicken
under
your
feet
so
you
don’t
fall
through
on
the
walk
.

Azlii stared at the door, but didn’t say or think-talk anything.

Home let out a chuckle — like wind through an empty structure.
Yes
,
there
are
things
Kelroosh
can
do
that
not
even
corentans
know
.
Come
on
now
.
The
walk
is
safe
.

Azlii rose, grabbed her cloak off the peg by the door, and stepped out into the rain. I didn’t think Home would send her to do something dangerous, but my neck warmed, and if my spots had lit they would have shown the same blue-red of anxiety that was all over Nez’s throat.

When Azlii returned, she tossed her wet cloak on the peg, walked straight over to a large pillow and settled herself on it.

“What did you see?” Nez asked.

“Doumanas, just as Wall said. I recognized a few of them — from Grunewald commune. They saw us circling. Some ran and hid, but others waved their arms. I couldn’t hear them, but I know they were calling out to us. Calling for rescue.” Azlii sighed. “Wall was right. There was no place to land.”

Just
coming
up
to
the
hills
, Home sent.
Then
down
over
the
wilderness
,
and
then
to
settle
outside
Chimbalay
.

I rubbed my arms, trying to chase away the chill running through me. The last time I’d passed over those hills I’d been on foot, escaping Lunge commune, my home then. I’d climbed the hills and gone down into the wilderness looking for salvation and sanctuary. Instead I’d found beasts, feathered and fanged. In Chimbalay, among the tall buildings and sophisticated doumanas, I’d found other beasts — the lumani, soft spoken and made of energy. Those beasts, the lumani, had changed me, made me what I was now.

Something unwanted in Chimbalay.

Nez sat on a pillow next to me. She reached over and stroked my throat.

“Even if the doumanas in Chimbalay do blame you for the destruction of their energy center, how many actually know what you look like? Hardly any. You could pass right by almost everyone there and they wouldn’t know you for who you are. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“But it’s my fault,” I said. “I destroyed the energy center and the doumanas of Chimbalay nearly starved because they had no energy to cook with and nearly froze to death because they had no energy to keep their dwellings warm.”

“Pftt,” Azlii said. “Next thing you know, you’ll want to take responsibility for the unseasonable rain, too.”

I smiled weakly. “Not the rain.”

A slight shiver ran down Nez’s arms and a soft, surprised, “Oh,” popped out of her mouth. “That’s not all that’s bothering you, Khe. It’s the memories you’re afraid of. Of remembering what the lumani did to you.”

Home chuckled softly.
That
one
may
be
useless
at
think
-
talking
,
but
she
knows
your
heart
.
And
she’s
wise
.
Wiser
than
you
,
sometimes
.
You
should
listen
to
her
,
Khe
.

Nez rubbed her hand across her face. “It’s not only your own memories that frighten you. You’re afraid of what I’ll remember, what Azlii will feel, walking in that place again.

“We’ll be fine,” Nez said. “I’m looking forward to being in Chimbalay. It’s my place. My first place, at least. Kelroosh is my place now, maybe. For me, I want to walk those streets again. I want to see Mees and my other kler-sisters. I think maybe being in Chimbalay again will help me understand where I truly belong.”