Analindë (The Chronicles of Lóresse) Read Online Free

clothes. No, not odd. Just sterile and serviceable. Straight cuts that did not drape well, and rough cloth that probably itched. The third—a human wizard dressed in a tattered dark green mage robe, the hood drawn low to hide his face—entered last.
    Understanding washed over her like one of the great waves that hit the coast every few years. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes again and groaned. Pools of blood, glassy-eyed stares, and blood-stained swords. Rage washed through her, blotting out the images. She flung her arms down to her sides with fists clenched and then growled, “What do They want?”
    She covertly moved closer, and shouting reached her from the inside of the house. She couldn’t make out the words but recognized her parent’s voices. “Thank the stars! They’re alive!” Her knees went weak as relief swept through her. Her legs buckled, and she leaned heavily against the wall. She needed to sit down.
    As she began to slide to the ground, her brother Riian appeared next to her, and she ended up lurching sideways instead. He caught her by the arms, pulling her upright, then tugged her into an embrace. He quietly made shushing sounds while patting her back, soothing her. Moments later, when she felt calmer, he pulled away from her and motioned for her to remain silent. Inky black hair was tied back with a thin strip of green ribbon; his face was carved with concern. He glanced after the humans, frowning. He grasped her arms once again, then drew her completely out of sight of the great house. Pulling her forward, he kissed her on the forehead and looked down into her face. His silver-flecked blue eyes were somber. “Analindë, it isn’t safe. Go, . . . hide in the Stonemason’s house until we’ve taken care of them.”
    The silver specks in his eyes, reminiscent of a galaxy in the sky, swirled slowly. Not only was he somber, but he was worried. He glanced away from her, scanning the space around them, and then his eyes were back upon her.
    She hurriedly searched his eyes again. There was something else in them now, but she couldn’t quite make it out. He’d gotten good at hiding his feelings and suddenly she was more afraid than ever.
    Panic gripped her and her legs shook unsteadily beneath her as worry, fear, and anger rose within her again. The sheltered daughter she’d been earlier that day wanted to go hide. Begged for it actually. But newly awakened rage wanted to act. Glendariel and her husband’s deaths, the loss of millennia’s worth of books in the west wing, made her sick. “But I want to help!” The words sounded more plaintive than confident, but she didn’t worry about the fear in her voice. He would easily read it in her eyes, just as their mother had taught them. No need to be embarrassed that she’d spoken her fear aloud. His eyes softened, and her stomach turned over in worry.
    “You haven’t yet learned warfare spells. You’ll be safest out of the way.” Riian tenderly brushed the side of her face with his knuckles.
    “But there must be some way that I can help.”
    “There is. By staying safe.” He swatted her lovingly on the arm—he always did that—and pushed her toward the Stonemason’s house.
    “Riian,” she called out in an urgent whisper. He paused, turning back from the great house. The words stuck in her throat. What if something terrible happened? “Don’t take any unnecessary risks. Be safe.”
    He nodded quietly, and something shifted in his stance. A moment later he’d resumed his pace. She watched him move down the street in stealth; foreboding grew in the pit of her stomach.
    Analindë crept away but doubled back as soon as she knew her brother was out of sight. She’d stay away from the great house but remain close enough in case they needed her. She darted across the village square toward the building closest to her home. She slipped through the front door, opened a window, and then settled down to wait.

    Only a few moments