Fires of Aggar Read Online Free

infectious, familiar grin challenged her silent assessment. Bryana relented and set aside her trowel. She accepted the offered hand as she went to rise, ruefully conceding how stiff age and gardening had made her this evening.
    “I began late because the Ring met overlong this afternoon. Too many concerns for our Sisters who will be returning from the Changlings’ Wars. This summer season will not be an easy one for Valley Bay, I fear.”
    “And as usual they expected the Ring Binder to magically provide all the answers.”
    Bryana nodded, patient humor sparkling in her eyes. “There is a certain assumption that since the Blue Sight shows me what event is to happen, it must naturally also tell me how to deal with that event.”
    “Yet it’s just the opposite,” Gwyn murmured. She gave her mother an arm to lean on as they turned for the house. Despite the creamy smoothness of Bryana’s face, her daughter knew how age-worn the seasons as Ring Binder had made this woman.
    “It is a worry,” Bryana continued almost as if she were speaking to herself. “The Wars have robbed so many of them of limbs, of trust… of hope.
    “We spent hours with the n’Shea crones of Home, searching for records and methods of dealing with these battle stresses. I believe our own House n’Shea found some of it useful. I hope so, anyway.”
    “But it leaves you tired, using your Sight to cross that starry chasm of time and space.”
    Bryana shrugged. Gwyn place an arm about her mother’s shoulders, and a grateful if amused smile appeared. “And who comforts who here?”
    Gwyn only hugged her gently. “Then think of me as Niachero, not as your eldest.”
    Bryana laughed beneath her breath. They entered the house, and as Bryana crossed the room to sink gratefully into the depths of the great couch, Gwyn unfolded the slatted doors that separated the house and gardens. She paused to be certain the outer lights were dimming off, then turned to kindle the wood laid in the fireplace.
    “You sent for me,” Gwyn reminded her mother softly, settling back against the side of the hearth. She watched in silent concern as Bryana wearily shrugged out of the work apron. Not for the first time Gwyn thought that it was fortunate N’Sormee would be coming home this summer with the rest of the veterans; Bryana seemed to tire less easily when Jes was near to lend her strength. “Would you like some tea, M’Sormee ?”
    “No,” Bryana raised a brow, irony touching some inner thought which she finally shared. “Do you know how many kettles of tea I’ve consumed today?”
    Gwyn laughed quietly. “We should ask Kimarie to send down a few kegs of her orchard juices. Offer you a change of taste.”
    “Your little sister has enough to worry about right now. Calving season is beginning for our beasties, remember?”
    “Aye — no,” Gwyn stretched out her booted feet, with a deliberate slowness to the motion that was not lost on her mother. “I’d forgotten.”
    “You are treating me — like I’m made of fragile glass.”
    “Sometimes, perhaps you are.”
    “Sometimes, perhaps I’m not.”
    Gwyn acknowledged that with a tip of her head. “I’d never contest your strength.”
    A rich, soft laugh eased much of the weariness in the older woman. “In some ways, you are very much my daughter. Always the diplomat!”
    Eyes widened in mock surprise. “M’Sormee! Am I not always your daughter?”
    “No.” A quite composed, blue gaze fell to Gwyn, though Bryana was careful as always with her Blue Sight not to actually lock glances. “Often you are Jes’ own.”
    “Never!”
    They laughed together at that, companionable in the way loving seasons and simple respect had created. Then slowly, the stillness came to wrap about them. Gwyn bent a knee and rested her chin atop it. Hands folded about her ankle and her copper eyes studied her mother. Once more, she prompted. “You sent for me. Was it because of something that happened within the Ring?