Moth (10 page)

He's looking away from me,
Koyee thought, and her heart burst into a gallop. Did she dare . . . truly? To steal?

No. She could not. She was the daughter of a noble warrior; she was no thief!

"I'm not paying more than a single copper for these," said the old man, gesturing at the mushrooms. He sniffed one and wrinkled his face. "These are no good."

The merchant groaned. "You are crazy, old man, these are the finest chanterelles in Pahmey. Look how plump and yellow they are. It's two coppers for a stone."

The old man placed a bunch of mushrooms on a scale. "I'll pay one copper or I'll take my business to Old Periwan. His prices are fair."

The merchant slapped the scale, sending a mushroom tumbling to the ground.

"Old Periwan sells dust and stones! You buy these. Great delicacy. I sell you them for a copper and a tin. You buy?"

The mushroom rolled across the cobblestones to Koyee's feet.

She stared at it, her mouth watering. The merchant and old man were still arguing, paying her no heed.

It's not really stealing if it rolled to my feet,
she told herself, her arms weak with hunger. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. She leaned down, lifted the chanterelle, and began to back away.

She had taken three steps, her prize in her hand, when the merchant called out toward her.

"Girl! You, girl, in the white fur. You going to pay for that, my friend?"

Koyee knew she should return the mushroom, but her hunger thought on its own. She spun and began fleeing through the crowd, clutching her morsel.

"Girl!" the merchant shouted behind. "Stars damn you. Stop her! Stop the urchin."

Koyee forced herself to slow down. If she ran, she would reveal her guilt. The people crowded around her, and she wormed her way between them. Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to wander calmly, to pretend to be shopping leisurely. She moved farther and farther down the street, knowing the merchant could not follow her, not without abandoning his wares to other thieves.

So I'm a thief,
she thought and shame flooded her.

But her hunger was greater. She kept walking until the merchant's calls faded behind.

Then, in the most joyous moment of her life, she brought the mushroom to her lips. She bit deep.

Earthy flavors exploded through her mouth, tasting of meat, smoke, and a hint of sweetness. Koyee closed her eyes and moaned. The heartiness flowed through her, from her tongue down to her toes. She bit again, savoring the juices that filled her mouth. With a third bite, the mushroom was gone. She sighed and opened her eyes.

"I want more, Eelani," she said. "This is like hunting on the plains. It's a different game with different dangers, but it's still hunting."

She kept walking through the market, her hunger only intensifying with the lingering taste of mushroom. Down a few more twisting streets, these ones selling beads and scrolls and slippers, she came to a road rich with the scents of seafood. Under green awnings, stalls displayed the spoils of the river.

Koyee entered the corridor, hoping to collect more fallen nibbles. Shoppers moved around her, carrying tin baskets, haggling and filling their receptacles with feasts. Koyee approached a stall built of bones, tendons, and leather, its shelves displaying an array of live crabs. She dared to hope one of the critters would fall off and race toward her.

A shadow darted at her side. A small figure bumped into her, then raced on.

Koyee had barely taken another step when the shadow reached the stall of crabs, grabbed one of the animals, and darted off into the distance. Koyee caught but a glimpse of the thief—a little girl with a mousy face, her two front teeth missing.

Koyee gasped. The crab-merchant cursed, whipped around the stall, and began shouting and pointing at the fleeing pilferer.

"Stop that child! Stop her!"

When Koyee glanced back at the stall, hoping to find an escaped crab, her eyes widened.

Three other children crept toward the stall, cloaked in gray, and began stuffing crabs into sacks. The merchant was still shouting and pointing toward the fleeing girl, several steps away from his wares.

Koyee could not afford to hesitate. She slunk forward and reached for a crab.

"No!" whispered one of the children, eyes wide in gaunt cheeks. A scar ran down his temple, and he was missing one ear. "Not for you."

The boy looked up, grimaced, and motioned to his friends. They retreated from the stall, slinking into an alleyway.

Koyee glanced up to see the merchant returning. Quick as a striking snake, she grabbed a crab and scurried back.

"Thieves!" The merchant's eyes widened. "Urchins everywhere. Robbers!"

He reached for a cleaver. Koyee didn't wait to see him wield it.

She raced into the alleyway, following the one-eared boy. She glimpsed him vanishing around a barrel and followed. She rounded a corner, saw an open doorway, and darted inside. Ahead, past shelves of fabrics, several shadows scurried out a second door, heading into another alleyway.

"Thieves!" cried a voice behind.

Koyee ran behind the fleeing children, her breath ragged. The crab snapped its claws in her hand. Finally, in a dusty alley full of old women weaving silks, she paused and caught her breath.

The sounds of pursuit had faded. Koyee stood for long moments, panting. Her head spun and her knees would not stop trembling; whether from fear, hunger, or thirst, she didn't know.

"We made it, Eelani," she said and took a shaky breath. "We're safe."

Before she could take another breath, a hand reached out and plucked the crab straight from her grasp.

"Hey!" Koyee cried, spun sideways, and saw the one-eared boy vanishing with her prize.

She chased him, shaking her fist.

"That's mine!" she said.

He scampered away. Several other shadows darted at his side, mere ghosts in the night. But Koyee was a huntress; she had spent her youth stalking beasts on the stone plains. The soft city folk could not catch these children, but she followed them doggedly, racing through alleys, doorways, and crowded streets.

The children reached a wall of glass bricks, and Koyee grinned savagely, sure that she had trapped them. But they only scampered up the wall, moving as quickly as spiders, and leaped onto the roof.

Cursing, she chased them. She placed her hands against the wall, seeking purchase between the bricks, and began to climb. The ascent was more difficult than she'd expected. Koyee grumbled. Her feet scuffled against the wall, seeking cracks for her toes. Her sword swung across her back. She climbed a few more bricks and almost slipped, but her hunger drove her onward. She feared that hunger more than falling.

She reached the roof, grabbed a tile, and tugged herself up with a grimace.

The tile came free.

Koyee yelped and, for an instant, she fell through open air.

A hand reached out, grabbed her wrist, and stopped her fall.

"You clumsy fool!" said the one-eared boy above. "What kind of thief are you? Is it worth dying for a crab?"

He pulled her, straining against her weight. Koyee gasped for air, head spinning. She grabbed the roof again and pulled herself onto the tiles. She leaned over, dizzy, and breathed raggedly.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I . . ."

Before she could complete her sentence, the boy darted away again. He jumped off the roof, landed on an awning, and scampered into the shadows below. Koyee stumbled along the roof, leaned across the other side, and beheld a graveyard nestled between old warehouses. A shadow scuttled among the tombstones—the boy with her crab.

Koyee paused and sucked in her breath. She had always feared graveyards; while she had never seen a ghost herself, her brother used to scare her with their stories, and that fear lingered. This graveyard seemed even stranger than the one in Oshy. Its tombstones tilted, craggy and twisted like old men of stone. Wisps fluttered between them and wails rose, metallic and echoing—the cries of the world beyond.

Koyee ground her teeth, forcing down her fear. "If I don't get my meal back, I'll become a ghost myself."

She took a deep breath and tightened her lips. Wincing, she leaped off the roof and thudded against the awning. She rolled off and slammed onto the ground. Her breath left her lungs with a short "Oof!"

She pushed herself up, groaning, and wobbled forward. Her head spun and her legs shook. She could not keep this up for long. She would have returned to the market and tried to steal again, but she no longer knew her location. She was fully, utterly lost.

She stumbled into the graveyard and wandered among its tombstones. No lanterns shone here. Only the stars lit this place, and even Koyee's eyes—sharper than most—could barely pierce the darkness. The wails rose louder here, and the wisps fluttered across her face. Cold sweat covered Koyee and she shivered, but then she tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

"Wind chimes," she said, staring up at them. "Wind chimes and silk scarves. Fake ghosts." She raised her voice. "Where are you, thief? Speak to me."

The tombstones rose around her, tall and narrow as men. The rune of Qaelin, a moon within a star, gleamed upon them. Wind whistled, mist swirled, and an owl hooted.

The thief was gone.

Koyee let out a long breath, and her eyes dampened. She was lost. She was cold. She was so hungry she could think of nothing else. Her quest seemed hopeless, and she slumped down onto her backside, leaned against a tombstone, and sighed.

"What do we do now, Eelani?" she whispered. "I feel like we've failed our village."

Her invisible friend nuzzled against her cheek, a hint of warmth like the breath of a loving pet.

A voice spoke ahead, startling her.

"You're quick. What gang are you?"

Koyee opened her eyes to see the one-eared boy regarding her. She leaped to her feet, drew her sword, and pointed the blade at him. He couldn't have been older than ten or eleven. At sixteen and a full five feet tall, Koyee towered over him.

"Return my crab," she said.

He shook his head. "We created the distraction. You fed on our turf. What gang are you?"

Three more children stepped from behind tombstones, joining the one-eared boy. One was the mousy girl with the missing teeth; she looked no older than five or six. Her knees were skinned, her eyes were afraid, and she still clutched a sack of live crabs. Two other children were tall, dour twins with shaved heads, almost old enough to be called youths. One held a club and the other a knife. They stepped toward her, and Koyee spun from side to side, slicing the air with her sword.

"Stay back!" she said.

But the one-eared boy took a step closer.

"You entered our domain, and now you will answer to us," he said. "I am Earwig. We are the Dust Face Ghosts. What gang are you?" He spat. "Black Snakes? The Stone Brothers? Who?"

She glared, pointing her sword from one child to another. They all wore rags and dirt smeared their faces. Scrapes and scars covered their bodies.

"I don't belong to any gang," Koyee said, not bothering to mask her disgust. "Now share those crabs with me, or I'll slice you to ribbons."

The mousy girl, the smallest of the bunch, whimpered and stepped back, tears filling her eyes. The twins, however, growled and stepped closer, raising their weapons; they were younger than Koyee, but taller and wider. She growled back, sword raised.

"Well then," Koyee said, smiling crookedly, "who wants to taste this steel first?"

Her heart thudded. She had never felt this angry, this violent, but her stomach needed that food, and she was willing to fight for it. The thieves stepped closer and Koyee steeled herself for battle.

A loud voice rose from the shadows.

"Clubhand! Sharpstone! Step back and lower your weapons." A shadow stirred behind a tombstone. "Whisper, give her a crab. One of them is hers."

The thieves muttered, one of them spat, and another tossed down his club with a curse. The mousy girl—Whisper—shivered and opened the sack. She tossed a crab toward Koyee, daring not step closer. Koyee caught it with one hand.

"Who's back there?" Koyee said, speaking to the shadows. "Do you lead these children? Come face me."

The mist parted. A young woman emerged from around a tombstone, her white hair woven into a hundred braids. Clad in a tunic of patches, she was missing her left arm, and scars ran along her left thigh. In her right hand, she held a spear, and daggers hung from her belt.

"I am Longarm. We are the Dust Face Ghosts, and you are alone." The young woman stepped closer, her eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head. "The scars on your face. Did you earn them in battle?"

Koyee stiffened. She didn't like people staring at her scars, let alone discussing them, but then again—every one here had scars of their own. She growled at Longarm.

"I battled a nightwolf. I slew him, but not before he gave me these. I now wear his fur as my tunic."

Longarm placed a finger under Koyee's chin, raised her head, and turned her cheek into the moonlight. She nodded in approval.

"I will name you Halfsmile," she said, "for your scar raises your lips in a smirk."

Koyee bared her teeth. "I have a real name. I am—"

"You are Halfsmile," Longarm said. "We have no real names here. You will be one of us. You are fast and brave, and you carry sharp steel. We need more fighters." She gestured at the younger children. "These ones are sneaky and fast, but only the twins and I know how to fight." She turned toward Whisper. "Start a fire! Cook these crabs. Halfsmile will eat with us."

The last thing Koyee wanted was to remain in a graveyard, surrounded by thieves. The first thing she wanted was to eat. Hunger overcame her fear, and soon Koyee found herself sitting by a campfire, filthy thieves around her, eating boiled crabs and drinking icy water.

"I'm not one of you," she mumbled through a mouthful of crab meat. "So stop calling me Halfsmile."

But the children only reached out, touched the scar raising the corner of her mouth, and laughed.

"Halfsmile, Halfsmile!" they said. "Welcome to the Dust Face Ghosts."