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

inside. Nez and I glanced at each other. I shrugged, and we followed them in.
    The dwelling was empty.
    “They could be in community hall,” I said. If commune doumanas weren’t in the fields, or in their dwellings, the hall was the place they were most likely to be.
    We went back outside, into the rain. The wind had shifted. The drops pelted us from a sharp angle. I shielded my face with my hand over my eyes and looked around until I spotted the large structure that had to be their community hall.
    “This way,” I said.
    Grunewald’s hall was large, big enough to hold two of Kelroosh’s Hall, with doors as wide as Home was long, built of high-grade Redstone, polished smooth.
    Azlii banged the side of her fist on the stone. “We’ve come from Kelroosh. Will you offer us hospitality?”
    No voice answered. The door stayed shut.
    “Do you think they’re hiding inside?” Nez asked. “Maybe the shivering world frightened them. They could be making offerings.”
    Corentans are without faith, and Azlii’s patience was running thin. “Let’s move this piece of stone and find out.”
    Probably there was a secret to the door, a balance point that would make it swing as if weightless, but we didn’t know the trick. It took all four of us, grunting and sweating — Azlii swearing under her breath — to push it open. Our footsteps echoed as we walked inside. If the doumanas of Grunewald were hiding somewhere, it wasn’t here. I saw the thought-grains Azlii sent toward the structure, heard her ask where the doumanas of this commune were, but there was no answer. I didn’t know if the structure couldn’t hear her or didn’t know how to answer.
    Like the root cache, I thought. My shoulders pulled toward my earholes almost of their own accord as I remembered being trapped and trying hard to talk to the cache, thinking maybe it understood but not being sure.
    “We’ll check the other structures,” Azlii said.
    Binley glanced around. “Grunewald is a large commune. There must be over a hundred and fifty doumanas living here.”
    “So where are they?” Nez asked.
    We pried our way into every structure, including the beast-keeps and grain bins. The musty scent of stored seed and straw-strewn floor flowed out to greet us. The only signs of life were six preslets pecking at the fallen seeds around the bases of the silos. My neck was hot with worry. The rain had stopped and we’d all pulled back the hoods of our cloaks. The blue-red of anxiety showed bright on the throats of my three companions.
    “There’s no one here,” Azlii said. “No one.”
    Nez’s spots lit purple-gray with concern. “Why would doumanas desert their commune?”
    I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine anything that would force my sisters off Lunge.
    “Beasts?” Azlii said. “Scared by the world-shiver and running in madness through the commune?”
    “The doumanas didn’t come this way,” I said. “Look around. Where are their footprints? They must have fled south, toward the hills.”
    We stood a moment, thinking about that, until Binley said, “We should get back to Kelroosh.”
    Nez, Binley, and I turned to start walking, but Azlii didn’t move. She stared at the silos and the preslets.
    “Find some carrying bags,” she said finally. “As big as you think you can carry full.”
    I looked at Azlii, expecting to see the brown-green of shame all over her neck — it was theft she was planning, as great a sin as lying. The only color I saw was the ocher of impatience.
    “Come on, you three. Get a move on. We’ll pay the Grunewald doumanas when they return. But we need food now.”
    I didn’t fault her logic, but couldn’t make my feet move. It was Nez who said, “I saw bags inside.”
    We found the thick, canvas bags and filled five with grain and two with squawking, unhappy preslets. At most it would make a day’s full meals, but a day’s meals were more than we’d have soon enough if we didn’t bring back what we’d