Secrets of Moth (The Moth Saga, Book 3) (6 page)

Ferius traced his fingers across
the dusk, that strip of shadows between the wings of the world. In
that land—only a few miles wide—rose Cabera Mountain and upon it
the clock. For many years, the Sailith Order had kept this sacred
secret—the source of its power . . . and the potential for its
undoing.

"If Koyee fixes the clock,
it is over," he whispered, and for the first time in many years,
the chill of fear washed his belly. "If the world turns again,
and if day follows night in all lands, all my work is undone."

Ishel came to stand beside him,
her tiger at her side. The smell of Elorian blood clung to her. She
narrowed her eyes, staring at the map. She held her spear with her
right hand, and her left hand stroked her tiger.

"What
clock are you talking about?" She snorted. "I care not for
clocks or dusty old maps. I care for
conquest
.
Will you respect our pact?"

He ignored her. He walked along
the wall, caressing the map, whispering.

"The gear in a dark
island." He touched an isle east of Ilar, hidden in the shadows.
"A hand in the desert." He walked toward the sunlit wing
and stroked the sandy lands in the south. "And the number nine
in the jungle of the barbarians." He tapped the rainforests of
Naya.

Ishel snorted. "Barbarians?
We are the strongest kingdom of sunlight. We will rise highest among
them." She grabbed Ferius's arm, her eyes blazed, and she
sneered. A necklace of tiger fangs hung around her neck, and her own
teeth gleamed with as much ferocity, her canines almost as long as
fangs themselves. "Tell me, Ferius, do you renege on the deal
you forged with my father? Speak! Or I will spear you, gut you, and
hang you beside your dragon."

He smiled thinly. "You are
fierce. That is good. You will do well for this task. Do you know of
the Five Traitors, the Timandrians who joined the forces of the
night?"

She tilted her head. "Of
course. All know their names. It was my bow that slew the fat one,
the baker named Hemstad." She growled. "I will kill the
remaining four when I find them."

Ferius's smile stretched into a
grin. "I do not renege on our deal, but I am changing it. We
will be wed, Princess Ishel of Naya, and your kingdom will rule the
greatest ruins of the night. But first you will travel back to your
homeland . . . to a temple among the trees. You will meet the
traitors there. And you will bring me their heads."

 
 
CHAPTER FIVE:
THE GIRL AND HER GIANT

Koyee
was loading supplies into the
Water
Spider
,
her trusty old rowboat, when the girl and her giant came walking
along the pier toward her.

Koyee had told only two other
souls about her journey: Jin, exiled Emperor of Qaelin, her fallen
homeland; and Empress Hikari, ruler of Ilar, this island of their
exile. If word spread of the Cabera Clock, enemies would race to stop
Koyee, and they had sworn to keep the secret.

"Shenlai the Wise
believed," Koyee had told them. "I must go on this quest .
. . for him and for all the night."

Jin had kissed her cheek, tears
in his eyes, and prayed for her safety. Empress Hikari, however, had
railed that this was a fool's quest, only a legend. She had demanded
that Koyee remain to fight, yet Koyee would not.

"We cannot fight the army
Ferius musters," Koyee had said. "Not with a million
swords. So I must sail away . . . to chase a dream, to find a hope."

And
so she had come alone to this pier, and so she now loaded all her
belongings onto the
Water
Spider
:
a new suit of armor, not a Qaelish shirt of scales but the black,
lacquered plates of Ilari warriors; jars of mushrooms, packs of meat
and fish, and skins of wine; fur blankets and spare tunics; and
rolled-up maps of parchment. These supplies would take her to the
distant Montai Isle in the east . . . where she would find hope or
desolation.

When she saw the girl and giant
approach, Koyee kept packing, not sparing them a second glance.

"If Empress Hikari sent you
to stop me," she said, "you're wasting your time. I sail
today and you'd have to shackle me to stop me."

The girl laughed. "Stop
you? By the stars above, no no no, we don't want to stop you. Why
would we want to do that? Stopping is so boring. A stop is an end, a
stop is a wall, a stop is like falling asleep just as the party gets
interesting. My dear young lady, we're here to join you! Yes yes,
that's far more interesting and fun, I find, joining . . . going on
journeys . . . seeking adventures and—" The girl bit down on
her words. "Oh dear, I've done it again, haven't I? I've gone
off talking too much, just like I always do, just like I've done as a
child. My mother always told me: Nitomi, do not let your mouth run
off a mile a minute, or your tongue will fall out. Well, my tongue
hasn't fallen out yet, but sometimes it does hurt, and—" She
slapped a palm over her mouth and spoke in a muffled voice. "Sorry.
I did it again!"

Koyee placed a rolled-up rug
into the boat, turned around, and stared at the girl. In truth, she
was more of a woman, probably a few years older than Koyee's own
eighteen years. But she stood even shorter than Koyee, as close to
four feet as to five. Her face was impish, her eyes huge and blue,
her nose small, her ears large. She wore tight, black silks that
covered her like a second skin. Many daggers hung around her belt and
across her chest.

Behind her towered the tallest
man Koyee had ever seen. He must have stood over seven feet tall.
Even in the cold, his chest and arms were bare, revealing muscles the
size of Koyee's rolled-up rugs. His face was wide and stony, his eyes
narrowed to blue crescent moons. His snowy hair cascaded down his
shoulders. He held an axe that could, Koyee thought, chop down a
tower with a single blow; it must have weighed as much as her.

"Qato protect," the
giant said, voice a deep rumble. "Qato serve."

Nitomi, the short woman in
black, loosened her fingers and spoke between them. "That's
about all he says, that one. Qato this and Qato that. I tried to get
him to say three words once, but he hurt himself so badly he almost
passed out, so I just let him be. He's my cousin, supposedly, but I
don't see any relation. I think my aunt must have found him hatching
from an egg on a cliff. But he's strong, he is. I saw him hammering a
nail once, only he hammered his thumb instead, and the hammer head
broke right off. Didn't even feel a thing, the big brute. We both
serve in the Dojai Order. You know what that is?" Nitomi let her
hands drop from her mouth, and the speed of her words increased.
"It's this very special school, very competitive, and all the
way up in the mountains. They train real assassins there, real
killers, not like the dumb soldiers who just roam around everywhere
in the city, slashing their swords and obeying orders. No no no . . .
we dojai are something special, much deadlier, and we move in
silence, and—"

"You don't seem very silent
to me," Koyee said, feeling it best to interrupt; she had a
feeling the only way to have a conversation with Nitomi was to
interrupt a lot.

"Oh
dear, I've done it again." Nitomi slapped her head. "Stupid,
stupid Nitomi! Probably why I got kicked out of the school. Oh well,
my point is: Empress Hikari sent us to help you. Qato and me, that's
right. We're going to sail with you to wherever you're going, and
we'll watch your back. We're good warriors, we are. I'm sneaky and
quick, and Qato's stronger than a dragon. You'll be safe with us, so
long as Qato doesn't sink the boat." Nitomi stared at the
Water
Spider
and
bit her lip. "By the stars, it's a bit small, isn't it?"

Koyee stared at the two, moving
her eyes from one to another, and shook her head.

"No," she said. "Just
no. I travel alone."

But Nitomi leaped
forward—indeed sneaky and quick—and scuttled into the boat. She sat
down and grabbed an oar. "Too late! I'm already here. Qato! Into
boat!"

The pale giant nodded, walked
around Koyee, and climbed into the boat too. The vessel dipped
several inches into the water. "Qato sail."

Nitomi patted his shoulder.
"Good Qato."

He nodded. "Qato good."

Still standing on the pier,
Koyee gasped. "Get out! Both of you. I can't endanger you. I'm
sailing somewhere dangerous."

A grin split Nitomi's face.
"That's why we're here, my dear! We love danger. Danger is
exciting! Danger is our specialty. We're here to protect you! Well .
. . and because Empress Hikari says we're the two worst dojai in the
empire, and she wants us off the island. But also to protect you!"
Nitomi patted the bench beside her. "Well, climb on board. While
we're young. Don't make us wait or we'll row east without you. Ooh!"
She turned toward the back of the boat. "Are those matsutaki
mushrooms? Those are my favorites!" She grabbed a jar, unscrewed
the lid, and began to feast. "Mmm . . . these are good. Mmm . .
. can't talk now, eating."

"Hey, put those down!"
Koyee stamped her feet, then turned toward Qato; the giant was busy
feasting on a slab of salted meat. "You too, Qato, don't eat
that. Those are mine! I— Oh dear."

Koyee sighed. She was about to
leap into the boat, grab the two, and try to drag them out, but a
voice rose behind her, and she froze.

"Koyee?"

She closed her eyes. She took a
deep breath. It was him.

She turned around, opened her
eyes, and saw him there.

"Torin," she
whispered.

He stood farther back on the
pier, staring at her as if hesitant to approach. He stood alone. He
wore his armor, a katana hung at his side, and a heavy pack hung upon
his back. He too was prepared to leave on his quest—a road that
would take him a world away from her. When Koyee looked over his
shoulder, she saw Bailey far in the distance. The tall, golden-haired
woman was rearranging her pack and not looking Koyee's way.

"I came to say goodbye,"
Torin said.

Koyee looked back at him. "I
know, you silly thing. I wasn't going to leave without saying goodbye
to you."

She stood stiffly, not sure what
else to say. Sometimes she thought she hated goodbyes less because
they were heartbreaking, more because they were awkward. She never
knew what to say when parting from others, let alone Torin, the man
she loved . . . the man she might never see again if their quests
failed.

Torin seemed just as
uncomfortable. He took an awkward step toward her, seemingly unsure
whether to hold her hand, embrace her, or pat her on the back.

"Oh you are a silly thing!"
she said, grabbed him, and embraced him tightly. "You can speak
so eloquently about fighting for peace and justice, but when you have
to say goodbye, you're as tongue-tied as a toddler sucking on candy."

He laughed softly, holding her
close. "Goodbye, Koyee."

She touched his cheek, and he
kissed her—a small, tight kiss at first, then smoothing into a deep,
desperate kiss. Koyee closed her eyes in his arms, and she remembered
her first time seeing him, a boy wheeling the bones of her father,
and she remembered fighting him in Pahmey, then fighting at his side.
She thought of the first time they had made love—back in the
hospice—and her eyes stung, and she could barely breathe, and she
did not know how she would be away from him for so long.

"I love you," she
whispered when their kiss ended. "Be safe. Stay near Bailey
always, and she'll watch over you. She's good with the blade."

He nodded. "I'm not too bad
with one myself, you know." He squeezed her against him. "I
love you too, Koyee. I'll think about you until we meet again at
Cabera Mountain. We will meet there. We will do this."

As he walked away, Koyee looked
back at Bailey, and she saw the woman staring at her from the
distance. Koyee waved but Bailey would not return the gesture; she
only stared, and even from this distance, Koyee could see the hatred
in her eyes.

She
loves Torin too,
Koyee knew.
But
he is mine, and he loves me, and I'm sorry, Bailey. I'm so sorry
because I know how much it hurts.

A sniffle sounded behind her,
followed by a trumpeting sound. Koyee turned to see Nitomi blowing
her nose into a handkerchief, tears in her eyes.

"That was beautiful!"
said the little assassin. "Just . . . so sad and . . . so
beautiful . . . and . . . " Her tears rolled and she blew her
nose again; the handkerchief fluttered. "True love. There's
nothing better. Well, maybe only a nice plate of fried matsutake
mushrooms with a side of chanterelles. Say, Koyee, you got any
chantrelles on this boat? I could go for some now, if you have them,
and oh—let me look. Ooh, wait, you've got salted bat wings! I love
those too and . . ."

Koyee
stopped listening, letting Nitomi prattle on. She climbed into the
Water Spider
and sat between the girl and her giant. As they left the docks and
oared into the sea, Koyee looked back and saw Torin still on the
boardwalk. He stood still, watching her leave, and raised his hand.
She waved to him until he faded into the distance.

 
 
CHAPTER SIX:
TORN

After endless turns in endless
darkness, they flew toward the sunlight on the back of a dragon.

"Home," Torin
whispered, the wind stinging his eyes. "Dayside."

Tianlong, the black dragon of
Ilar, flew upon the wind, wingless but flowing forward like a snake
upon water. His black scales chinked and his red beard fluttered like
a banner. Torin and Bailey sat in the saddle, pressed together, as
the dragon flew across the last miles of darkness toward the sun.

The stars and moon still shone
above, indigo spread across the sky, and shadows cloaked the land
below. But ahead Torin saw it: the dusk, the glow of his homeland.
The memories pounded into him, as stinging and mighty as the wind. He
could smell the fresh breads dear old Hem would bake, feel the
softness of woolen cloaks, hear the song of birds, taste the cold ale
in The Shadowed Firkin tavern . . . and most of all, feel safe. Feel
warm. Feel at home. Until now, fighting for the night, he hadn't
realized how much he missed the sunlight. Now his eyes watered.