Free Smoke and Rain by V. Holmes Page A

very sorry for your losses. Know that they did not die in vain.”
    Φ
    Arman slumped onto a barrel with a sigh. Alea had gone to bed and the Laen's guard left shortly afterwards. Arman had not even thought to get his name. He would have lied anyways. The rest of the night had been busy, but the last round had left some minutes ago. I don't know how Ma does this by herself so often. As if called by his thought, Kepra breezed in.
    She planted a tired kiss on his head and poured herself a mug of tea. “Thank you for taking over.” Her smile was wan. “It was a difficult delivery. All is fine now. They have a daughter.”
    Arman frowned. Something tugged at his mind, but he could not place the memory. “I'm glad they're well.”
    “You seem distracted, did anything happen tonight?” The lines on her brow deepened and she brushed curls away from his face.
    “No.” He shook his head, still mulling over the night's events. “It was quiet.” He rose. “I'm feeling a bit ill, Ma, I'm going to bed. Everything is cleaned for tomorrow though.” He squeezed her hand absently and trudged up the stairs. Cold still flickered over his body. He had thought it would pass once he delivered the Laen's message. Candlelight shone from under Alea's door. He paused, frowning at the flickering glow and a memory thundered into his mind.
    He peered through the crack in the door. His mother often told him off for spying, but curiosity had bested his will. His mother was cleaning the new baby, her eyes warm as she swaddled the child. “There, milady. You have a daughter.”
    The woman on the bed was not Vielronan. Her black hair was streaked with sweat and her silver eyes luminous. She held her child as if the baby were her last tie to life. “Beautiful.”
    “Milady, will you stay with us long?”
    The mother closed her eyes tightly, as if in pain. “I must travel south.”
    “You can shelter here, there is no need to run.”
    “Do not pretend ignorance.” Her silver eyes flashed. “You know what I am. I cannot get far enough away from Mirik.” Her gaze softened as she smoothed the black tuft of hair on her daughter's head. “She will have the best chance without me.”
    Arman leaned too far forward and stumbled. His mother whirled, brows snapping together. “Arman, sweetling, I told you to go to bed.”
    Arman staggered against the wall, one hand over his mouth to muffle his short breaths. He told himself it was unlikely, that many dark-haired mothers came to his mother for help. It was denial and he knew it. She was Laen. South could have been Sunam. Cehn. Lyne'alea does not remember the Laen's first visit because she was a baby. He could only guess why she had been abandoned, why the Laen refused to acknowledge her. She did not feel the same as they had, and he wondered if she lacked power. Of one thing he was certain, however. Lyne'alea ir Suna was not human.
     

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    The 9th Day of Valemord, 1251
    The City-state of Vielrona
    ARMAN TUGGED HIS SHAGGY hair. He was prone to imaginative ideas, and a large part of him wondered if that is all this was. He leaned against his mother's doorframe, steeling himself.
    “Just come in, Arman. I can hear you.”
    He laughed softly and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Kepra sat at her vanity brushing her hair. Her thin shoulders were wrapped in a thick robe, but Arman could see how unkind the years had been. “I didn't mean to bother you.”
    “What's on your mind, love?” She finished twisting her hair and sat on her coverlet.
    He frowned. “I can't just want to say goodnight?”
    “And do you want to be tucked into your blankets too? Arman you're not a boy.” She drew her legs up under herself. “What is it?”
    “I need to ask you something, and I need you to understand that I have thought about it, even if it seems mad.” He perched himself at the foot of her bed. Something you said last night started me thinking. Do you remember one foreign woman you