Free Ashes and Rain: Sequel to Khe (The Ahsenthe Cycle Book 2) by Alexes Razevich

doumanas — rich, brown soil stretching back to the hub of structures that had been my home. Only the Lunge hatchlings couldn’t keep still, bouncing on their feet or weaving side to side from the excitement of it all.
    Nez and Azlii walked beside me. Azlii wore her trader’s collar and one of the Bethon Blue cloaks she planned to offer Simanca in exchange for extra food. She’d said there was nothing like showing a doumana a luxury to make her begin craving it. I slowed a step. Nez put one hand on my elbow, as if she feared I would fall and wanted to be ready to catch me. I blew out a deep breath and picked up my pace.
    I’d expected Simanca to walk out to greet us, but she stood her ground, waiting until we crossed onto Lunge before she drew a smile on her mouth and raised a hand in welcome.
    “You have returned to us,” she said.
    “Yes.”
    “You’ve made your sisters very happy today, Khe.” She glanced at Azlii. Her eyes focused on and then roamed over the rich cloak that covered the corentan’s shoulders. “Come. We have a small feast prepared. We’ll eat and then discuss your needs.”
    I didn’t need to see Azlii’s neck beneath the collar to know that she, too, had caught Simanca’s meaning. Lunge had enough food for a feast. Azlii was the beggar at the table. I was not all the payment Simanca now wanted.
    The tables in the communiteria had been pushed together to make one long plank. Simanca led Nez, Azlii and me toward the end furthest from the door. She took the seat at the head and motioned for us to sit to her right. Her unitmates, Tav, Min, and Gintok, took the seats to her left. I looked for Jit, Thedra, and Stoss, craning my neck to see over the doumanas pouring in the doors until I saw them. I wanted my commune unitmates to sit next to me, but those seats were already taken.
    I stared down at the table and felt the eyes of all my sisters, those who had been my sisters at Lunge, boring into me. Because Azlii — a corentan — was there, every doumana in the room wore a collar. All except me. There was no reason for me to, and Nez had pointed out that Simanca and the doumanas of Lunge would feel more comfortable and trusting if they thought I had nothing to hide.
    But I thought Nez was wrong. It could make my commune-sisters nervous and wary, seeing no emotion spots light on my neck. Just as my unitmates had, my commune-sisters would ask themselves if Khe felt nothing at returning to them. How could she feel nothing? Was something wrong with her? The answer to that question was one I didn’t want to give.
    I could only hope that Jit, Stoss, and Thedra had already told my story. Simanca would have demanded to know everything that had been said between us, so at least Simanca and her unitmates knew. Had she told everyone, or kept the knowledge to herself?
    Simanca looked down the table, caught Thedra’s eye, and nodded slightly. Thedra rose. The room went quiet and she pulled herself up tall and began to sing.
    Her clear, high voice sailed through the room. She sang a song I hadn’t heard before, a song of the land of Lunge stretched out warm and brown in the sun, of the brave new shoots that pushed from it and grew. It seemed that every note came straight to me, wrapping around me like a blanket, enticing me to stay.
    Nez nudged my side and shot me a harsh look. I saw her suddenly with lumani eyes — the purple-gray of concern, the muddy-green of jealousy, and the orange-yellow of confusion filling her outline. The gold cord that I saw only between the two of us streamed toward me.
    I shifted my glance to Azlii, but she was only herself. When I looked back at Nez, she was herself again, her head slightly cocked, a question in her eyes.
    Thedra finished her song and sat down. The doors between the food prep area and the eating room of the communiteria burst open and doumanas pushing food carts came into the room. The sweet scents of kiiku and mern and the sharp spice of truleer filled the