Smoke and Rain by V. Holmes Read Free Book Online Page B

from before?”
    “I was half a month old. How could I? This family is all I am.”
    Ahren sighed and looked up at the fading light in the desert sky. “I will protect you. I know how precious you are.”
    “Precious to you?”
    He had answered only by squeezing her hand. Now, half asleep, Alea's mind paused on that. The image of Ahren's face dissolved into his expression when the attack began. He had the same sorrow in his eyes, haunting with the knowledge behind them.
    Φ
    The 39th Day of Lumord, 1251
    “The tomes await, milady!” Arman knocked on her door before trotting downstairs. Alea finished braiding her hair and hurriedly tied her boots before rushing after him. Arman turned, half a biscuit in his mouth while he pulled on a cloak.
    She smiled at him briefly before looking away, but she knew he saw the shadows under her eyes. She was quiet and kept half a pace behind him as he wove through the crowd. She began to recognize the locals by their honey-colored hair and tan skin. She could feel gazes pause on her when they normally would have slid over Arman. She wished her borrowed cloak had a deeper hood.
    Arman opened the Guild's wooden gate for her and showed her up a paved walk to a small building. “I will come by when Wes and I take our midday meal. If you're tired I can show you home then.”
    She nodded, hand on the door-latch. “Enjoy your work.” It had been rare that she was alone in Cehn, with such a large household. Now that she had little to occupy her time she found herself unsure how to simply exist in her own thoughts. Especially when they are so dark. The low room was filled with scattered shelves and boards holding maps and charts. The hearth was lit, but low, and she hung her cloak beside one of the chairs before perusing the tomes. There seemed to be little order to the books' placement. Several books were piled haphazardly atop the shelves. She frowned at the titles: A History of the Gods, The Way of the Earth, and In the Name of Balance: the Teachings of the Laen. Chills rolled down her arms. Arman is not the only one to think there was much more to the attack. The thought made her uneasy.
    Turning she saw a new account. Between Desert and Mountain was a dry retelling of Vielrona's political sparring with Athrolan to the north and Sunam, to the south. She was about to close it when one of the illustrations made her pause. It was the Minister of Vielrona meeting with the ihal of Cehn. She traced the artist's rendering of her foster father's face. His eyes were calmer than that, and his hair was always bound back under his jahi. She almost smiled, though, at the familiar face.
    She shut the cover gently. She never appreciated history, preferring modern poetry and music. She chose a few volumes of nature-centered verses before retiring to the chair. There were several pieces she enjoyed, but by the time Arman arrived at midday, she was ready to return to the inn.
    Φ
    The 46th Day of Lumord, 1251
    Alea was absorbed in a book on Vielronan plants when the door opened abruptly. After close to a week visiting the library, Alea was familiar with the collection. It was close to supper and she expected Arman. Instead a tall, unfamiliar man blocked the door.
    He paused when he saw her, then doffed his cloak. “Forgive me, miss. I did not know this space was being used.” He stepped closer, allowing the torch at the door to illuminate him. Like most Vielronans he had pale hair and gold skin. His long locks were loose and threaded with gray. The lines of a life filled with sorrow and joy were etched around his broad mouth and fierce eyes.
    “I was just passing time,” Alea answered. “You are welcome to your business.” She turned back to her book, only to be interrupted again.
    “I know everyone in this city, by face if not by name.” His broad hands rested on the back of the chair opposite hers. “I do not think I am familiar with either of yours.”
    Alea closed her book carefully and