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

old unitmates in the dwelling we’d once shared. It would be my last chance; after Azlii came to get me I’d never set foot on Lunge again.
    “Min,” Simanca said, “start making arrangements for the goods to be transferred to the corenta.” She smiled thinly at Azlii. “We should be able to complete delivery by tomorrow night.”
    “Our gates will always be open to you,” Azlii said.
    “Should I go with them to help?” How easily I slipped back into my role as a Lunge doumana, waiting always to serve Simanca’s needs.
    “Stay, Khe,” Simanca said, her voice the most kindly I’d heard it in a long time.
    I shrugged goodbye to Azlii and Nez, watched them leave with Min, and waited to hear what Simanca wanted. Tav heaved a loud sigh, rose, and left the room, pulling her collar off as she left. Simanca nodded almost imperceptibly to Gintok, who was standing behind me.
    Arms shot around from behind my back, pinning my own arms to my sides. I tried to turn and break free, but Gintok had braced herself somehow and I couldn’t move. Her hold tightened. Simanca burst across the room and threw her newly acquired cloak over my head. Bethon Blue filled my eyes. A hand grabbed the cloak at the back of my neck, drawing the fabric close over my face. The fabric was thick. It was hard to breathe.
    I twisted and turned and tried to stomp on Gintok’s foot, but she was stronger than I would have reckoned, and I had been weakened by what the lumani had done to me. I felt Simanca wrap something around me, rope maybe, pinning my arms to my side more firmly than even Gintok had, and constricting my chest. I gasped, trying to get air. She tied something over my mouth, forcing a fold of the cloak between my lips. Blood pounded in my head. I yelled, but only a strangled sound came out.
    My feet left the ground, lifted between them, one taking my shoulders, Gintok — I thought — and the other my feet. They grunted under my weight. I thrashed and made as much noise as I could. One of them yanked hard under my arms and Gintok said, “No use yelling. No use struggling. There’s no one to hear. No one to help.”
    Simanca had planned this. She’d likely sent all the commune doumanas to their dwellings and ordered them to stay inside. She’d have an explanation for my unitmates as to why I hadn’t come to see them.
    Or were they were in with Simanca on this scheme? A tremble ran across my shoulders.
    I heard the door slam shut as I was carried outside. Cool air chilled me where the cloak didn’t cover my legs. Thrashing my body was wearing me out. I stopped fighting and let them carry me, saving my strength for the moment when they would have to put me down.
    “Upstart little doumana.” Gintok’s voice, as cold as snow water. “Who do you think you are?”
    The sound of running feet. Slap. Slap. Slap. Ragged breath. Azlii? Nez?
    “Open the door, Min,” Simanca said as we came to a halt.
    Grunts. A groan. “It’s heavy,” Min grumbled.
    Hinges, unused to being moved, squealed. Thud of something big and hard hitting dirt.
    They set me on my feet and someone loosed whatever bound me. I flung my arms wide, hoping to hit one of them and then run. Min, I guessed from the feel of her hands, grabbed my wrists and pulled them together, pinning them together over my chest. Someone else held my upper arms tight to my body. The cloak still covered my head. I couldn’t see where I was.
    “Ready?” Simanca said. “Now.”
    A hard shove in my chest, and I fell through chill air, arms and legs failing. I landed in a heap on a hard surface. I tore at the gag that stopped me from yelling and tied the cloak over my face. Before I could tear it off, I heard a door above me slam shut.
    I knew where I was the moment I got free of the cloak. Even in the oily darkness, the smell came to me. Roots — chiva, by the musky scent, harvested before Barren Season and stored for preslet feed during the cold time. There were several root caches on