Triane's Son Fighting by Amy Lane

Author:Amy Lane [Lane, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Part XV—The Yearning Moon

Dream of Beloved

THE ORPHANAGE was just as Torrant remembered it, even in the dream.

Yarri and the children had painted bright, happy murals on the yellow, recycled sailcloth that hung on the walls and carpeted the floors of what was once Lane Moon’s winter overflow warehouse. He had since rebuilt a larger building and donated this one to the victims of Rath’s policies, and Yarri, perhaps because she was an orphan herself, had taken on the orphanage as her livelihood.

Of course, Yarri was only eighteen. The place had been her idea, and she knew every child by name and had been teaching the youngest ones their letters from the time she could first sneak away from the schools she was supposed to be attending in order to school the children. But still—she was young enough to require supervision. The town elders, of whom Lane was one, volunteered two or three days a month to come in and assist and take funding requests to bring to the town meetings, but it was Yarri who provided the driving will to make the place thriving, happy, and warm.

She had help—before Torrant left and Roes had moved to Wrinkle Creek with Aldam, Roes had been a frequent presence at the orphanage, and the children had often teased that Roes was even pricklier than her name. Aylan had worked there between traveling jobs for Lane, and other young people who had come to play with the Moon children as they were growing up made the orphanage their livelihood as well.

Evya, Stanny’s wife, was there as often as Yarri. So was Aln, who, mourning his brother and his lover, both part of the militia killed in defense of Triannon, seemed to take more solace from his work with the children than he did from the company of any of the adults of the town.

Aln was there this day, as well, and Yarri’s automatic hand on his shoulder was covered with Aln’s own, long-fingered hand, as well as a great deal of gratitude.

“It’s looking good!” she praised, taking in the poster with letters and numbers on it. The poster was to encourage reading. They were going to hang it over the treasured shelf of books rescued from Triannon. The orphanage, which had housed so many of the students after the attack, seemed the logical place to gather the precious little volumes of poetry and stories. The colors were bold purples, oranges, blues, and greens, and if there was not enough yellow in it for Yarri’s liking, she was pretty sure that was her own bias and not to be confused with any other fact. She and Aln had always enjoyed drawing together, but until Kert had been posted at Triannon with the militia, Aln had always been too wrapped up in his beloved to spend much time working with her.

“Have you heard from Stanny?” he asked, and Yarri bit her lip and shook her head.

“It was going to be a few weeks for him to get back,” she told him.

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