Harvest of Dreams (The Gods' Dream Trilogy) by Debra Holland Read Free Book Online Page B

to live at Ontarem’s temple, and his face was narrower. Although it was difficult to tell without Kokam side-by-side to compare, Nabric’s shoulders looked wider, and he stood perhaps an inch or two taller. But he had the wide-set eyes, high cheekbones, and thick hair all three of the triplets possessed.
    “Brother, I greet you in Ontarem’s name.”
    Nabric gave a slight incline of his head. “Sister, you are welcomed in the name of Ontarem, our God.” His tone sounded solemn, but facing her, his back to the men, he allowed a familiar teasing expression to cross his face. “A me-re bird has flown to the Triangle Islands.”
    She caught her breath on a sob, remembering the day Kokam had said something similar about her red dress. Her sadness must have shown on her face. But now was not the time to tell him about Kokam’s death. Or rather, confirm the death. As soon as their brother’s heart stopped beating, Nabric must have felt Kokam’s absence in the Trine link.
    Nabric squeezed her hands. “We’ll talk later,” he said, his voice low. He glanced at the throne and gave her a little bow. “Since you’ll be the Trine of the Triangle Islands, it is only fitting that you take the seat.”
    She narrowed her eyes. Was there a touch of sarcasm in his voice?
    Her brother handed her up to the throne.
    Using a rope net, the sailors hoisted her trunk overboard. Once her luggage was stowed, Nabric made a cast-off motion to the crew.
    The barge pulled away from the ship and turned toward land. Pasinae watched the island grow closer, saw people clothed in bright hues including red, moving through the streets. She wondered why Nabric allowed them to wear colors and made a mental note to ban anyone else from wearing her favorite hue.
    The closer they drew to land, the heavier the humidity weighed on her. She decided a short tunic like Nabric’s, scarlet of course, might be a good idea.
    The barge drifted onto a small sand beach.
    Nabric handed her down and helped her off the barge.
    On the beach, she took several tottery steps, trying to adjust to firm land. She slanted a glance at Nabric to see if he was laughing, but his face remained impassive. He’s grown up. Before, he never would have passed up an opportunity to tease me. Nor had he been able to school his expression. Uneasy, she wondered what he was thinking.
    She trod lightly on the sand to avoid getting the grains in her shoes. But to her annoyance, some granules still filtered inside, irritating her feet and increasing her dissatisfaction with the place.
    The beach ended at a road paved with shiny black blocks. Nabric handed her into a canopied sedan chair, then climbed into another situated in front of hers. Discretely, she slipped off her shoes and emptied the sand onto the floor of the vehicle.
    The porters hefted the poles of the chair to their shoulders. So smoothly did they lift her that Pasinae barely felt the dip of the chair. The bearers walked in unison up a narrow, crooked street.
    Grateful for the shade of the canopy, she leaned back in the seat, watching as they traveled by buildings made of porous lava rock. As they passed, people turned to gawk.
    Unlike the citizens of Penutar, these people appeared more mixed race, their skin and hair lighter, with many having green, gray, or blue eyes. The grandchildren of slaves were allowed to move to the free side of the town and formally be admitted into the clans. Those descendants of the captives from Seagem and Ocean’s Glory had diluted the dark skin, hair, and eyes of Ontarem’s people.
    The Stingfish clan was dressed various styles, much of it grimy and tattered. Pasinae recognized clothing from Seagem and Ocean’s Glory, stolen from ships or raids, or more recently, the conquest of the SeaGod’s city. The people appeared healthy, not thin like the citizens of Penutar. Not for the first time, she wondered why with all the water surrounding them, the seadogs didn’t like to bathe, nor seem to take