Secrets of Moth (The Moth Saga, Book 3) (32 page)

He shook. For a moment Koyee
thought he'd weep, but instead he roared, a cry of agony that tore
through the chamber, shaking the worlds on their tracks. The floor
and walls shook; the mountain trembled.

"Love?" he screamed,
voice hoarse. "What love was there for me as a child—when your
people tormented me, when our own mother bore a new son to replace
me? You drove me to this!" He advanced toward her, eyes red and
watery, teeth bared. "You will pay for your sins, filthy
Elorian. I made all the others pay. And you will suffer more than
any. I will not kill you here. I will treat you as others treated me.
You will become a freak, a twisted thing, outcast, scorned. When
you're the last Elorian alive, I will place you in a cage, and I will
parade you around the world, city to city. Mothers will shriek at
your appearance. I will make you hideous. I will turn you into a
creature like your emperor. I will rip off your limbs, but I will not
let you die. Children will cry to see your deformity. Men will toss
filth your way." His shoulders shook and his tears spilled. "You
will suffer like I suffered."

He lunged toward her, mace
swinging.

Koyee sidestepped, and his mace
slammed against one of the orrery's tracks. Sparks flew and the
worlds shook. Koyee swung her sword, aiming for his neck, but he
lurched back and the blade scratched along his armor.

Their dance began.

Perhaps they'd been dancing for
two years now, since that day he had killed her father. Perhaps she'd
been performing this dance all her life—since she'd been born in a
humble village, the daughter of a fisherman's wife with a secret old
lover and a torn, lost child. Here Koyee fought within a great
orrery, the secret machine of Moth, and here the secrets of her own
family clashed with steel.

His mace slammed against her
armor, and Koyee screamed and fell to her knees, swung her sword, and
slammed it against the greaves protecting his legs. She leaped back
and the mace swung again, and its flanged head crashed against the
floor, cracking the metal. She jumped to her feet. Their weapons
swung. The dance continued. They leaped between the round, metal
tracks. The worlds spun around them, creaking back and forth like
wagons in a mine, and the mechanical sun blazed at their side, a
furnace bathing them with light and heat.

Koyee remembered her first
battles, her first sense of fear. She had been a child running across
the moonlit plains, a spear in hand, hunting for meat. She had
battled nightwolves then, and they had scarred her face and hardened
her heart. Leaping within the orrery, she remembered leaping across
the roofs of Pahmey, firing her arrows down at soldiers, and battling
Ferius in Bluefeather Corner. Again she fought in Sinyong's gauntlet
on the southern coast, in the ruins of Yintao, and in deep caves on a
dark island. All those battles merged as her sword swung, as the
demon of sunlight stood before her, the slayer of her people, the
light of the sun and the terror of the night—her half-brother.

"I'm sorry, Mother,"
she whispered as she fought, hair damp with sweat. "I have to
kill him . . . I have to kill your son."

Her sword swung again, but he
deflected this blow too. His mace's head drove forward like one of
the metal worlds. It crashed into her shoulder and knocked her down.

"Brother . . ." she
whispered.

The mace plunged down like a
comet.

She rolled aside, crushing her
hurt shoulder, and the mace slammed into the floor beside her,
chipping metal and scattering sprockets.

Screaming, she tried to rise.
One of the worlds—an iron sphere craggy with canyons and
mountains—came swinging down its track. Koyee ducked and the
sphere—larger than her head—whooshed over her. The mace came
swinging behind it, and she rolled away again, jumped to her feet,
and swung her sword.

Sheytusung slammed into Ferius's
armor, doing the steel no harm. He fell back two steps and slammed
into a bronze door. It swung open, revealing a chamber full of gears,
springs, and the inner side of the clock's dial. The clockwork was
still and dead. Snarling, Ferius drove forward again, and the door
creaked shut, hiding the frozen heart of the mountain.

Another world trundled toward
them, creaking on its tracks, and Koyee pulled aside. Ferius ducked,
narrowly dodging the ball of bronze. With the world past them, their
weapons thrust again. Mace and sword crashed together, tilted
sideways, and banged against one of the circular tracks. Koyee
wobbled, and when the mace swung again, she stepped so close to the
mechanical sun the heat seared her cloak and hair.

She ducked under the mace,
skirted Ferius, and swung her sword again. She aimed for his neck.
The mace rose, deflecting the blow, and Sheytusung sliced off the tip
of his ear.

Ferius hissed, bringing his hand
to the wound, and Koyee thrust her blade again.

With a growl, Ferius lashed his
mace, slamming it against Koyee's fingers.

She screamed, feeling a finger
snap. A world came racing down a track. It slammed into her blade,
tearing the katana from her wounded grip. Sparks blazed as the world
kept moving, dragging her sword along the track.

Koyee stood, weaponless, her
hand throbbing, as Ferius grinned and stepped toward her.

She tried to take a step back,
but her back grazed the mechanical sun, and she winced in the heat.
She stepped sideways, but a world swung by, forcing her back. Ferius
licked his chops and his tongue darted; he looked like a snake ready
to strike. He raised his mace above her.

"And thus, here in the
mountain, I bring light and purity to the world." Ferius's eyes
blazed with internal fire. "Here in the very light of the sun I
will crush you, a creature of darkness."

"Brother, I—"

His mace drove toward her.

The weapon crashed into her
chest like a horse's kick. She screamed. One flange drove through her
armor, cracking the steel, cutting into her flesh. She fell backward,
and her back hit the sun's grill, and the flames roared and she cried
out in pain.

The mace rose again.

Koyee barreled forward, catching
the blow on her shoulder. Barely able to see, she shoved against
Ferius. He was bulky and strong, and she was slim and short, but she
shoved him with all the pain, rage, and fear in her. She smelled her
hair burn, and her wounds screamed, but she kept pushing, knocking
him against an orrery track.

One of the worlds came loose,
rolled across the floor, and slammed against his foot. They fell
together.

He crashed atop her, crushing
her, and she screamed. His mace thumped against the floor, and his
hands wrapped around her throat. She tried to gasp, unable to
breathe. She tried to kick him, but her knees only banged against his
armor. He laughed above her, his saliva dripping onto her, his face
red in the firelight. His fingers felt like they could snap her neck,
and she couldn't even wheeze.

"Don't worry, little
child," he said. "I won't let you die. You'll just go to
sleep."

She scratched at his hands,
tearing his skin, and he roared like an animal. He leaned in and bit
her ear, and pain blasted through her. She wanted to scream but
couldn't even breathe. He pulled his head back and spat out a chunk
of her earlobe. The red glob flew into the mechanical fire.

"Just the first bit I
remove from you," he said.

Koyee's eyes rolled back.

Her body loosened and she lay
limp.

Darkness began to spread across
her eyes.

I'm
sorry, Torin,
she thought.
I'm
sorry, Eelani. I'm sorry, Eloria. I could not defeat him.

Beads of light flowed above her,
and she was only a heartbeat or two away from unconsciousness. When
she awoke, she would be tied, tortured, beaten and deformed, forced
to watch the night blaze as she lingered in a mockery of life.

I'm
sorry . . . I'm sorry, Torin, I love you.

Trundling metal sounded behind
her like a wobbly wheel.

Koyee forced her eyes open.

No.
I will not give up yet. I am Koyee of Eloria. I am the night.

With her last burst of strength,
she floundered, kicked, and shoved him upward.

The darkness cleared from her
eyes.

Still kneeling over her, his
fingers around her neck, Ferius grunted as she shoved him. His head
rose a foot higher.

A metal sphere the size of a
cauldron—the world shaped as Mythimna, its continents like moth
wings—slammed into his head.

Blood spurted across Ferius's
face. With a squeal, he fell back, his hands leaving her throat.

Koyee sucked in air, a breath
that tasted of blood and ash—the sweetest breath she had ever taken.
Bleeding and broken, she rose to her feet. Ferius knelt beneath her,
his nose crushed, his mouth bleeding. He stared up at her, sneering,
and reached for his fallen mace. His voice bubbled through blood and
mucus, and a tooth fell to the floor.

"You are Elorian filth!"
His voice rose to a shriek. "I will tear off your face, and I
will bring light to the world, and—"

Koyee placed a foot against him.
Tears filled her eyes, pain flowed through her, and she screamed. For
the loss of her family. For the death of her people. For two years of
heartbreak and pain. The worlds danced around them—the dance of
night and day—and she pushed her foot forward, shoving with all her
might.

He fell backward and pressed
against the mechanical sun's grill. Sparks flew across him.

"Return to the sunlight,"
she said. She shoved him again.

The grill snapped. He crashed
through the metal and into the blazing flames.

Koyee stood before him, and
though her body was bleeding and broken, she stared steadily into the
fire.

The sun crackled like a pyre,
belching out sparks, smoke, and heat. Inside the blaze, Ferius
shrieked—a sound like steam, like cracking metal, like the death of
an empire. His black form writhed within the fire, a demon inside the
sun, and he laughed.

"You cannot burn me!"
rose a demonic voice from the holocaust. "I am Sailith. I am
woven of sunfire itself. You only give me strength."

Koyee grimaced and took a step
back.

Hands held before him, a living
torch, Ferius—now more demon than man—stepped out from the sun.

The flames raced across him, but
his flesh did not burn. He advanced toward her, laughing within the
inferno. Koyee took a step back, ducking under a metal ring, and he
kept moving toward her, flaming arms raised.

"It's over, Ferius!"
she shouted, voice echoing in the chamber.

He laughed within the blaze. "Do
you know how your brother died, worm? I approached him like this,
wreathed in a cloak of fire. I burned him. Now I burn you. I am a god
of flame."

He reached toward her, and she
kept walking backward. Her back hit the wall, and she stared at him,
weaponless, wincing in the heat and light.

"A
god of flame?" she shouted over the roaring blaze. "You rub
yourself with the milk of
taromi
mushrooms. Spicers in the Green Geode rubbed it on their fingertips
to hold their hot pipes. I smelled it on your cloak and armor. I saw
the glaze on your skin. You have no magic, only simple tricks!"

He reached a flaming hand toward
her, laughing. "You will still burn."

She shook her head. "No,
Ferius. But you will. Do you feel the heat?"

He froze, his hand inches away
from her. He gasped as welts blazed to life across his face. He gave
a strangled yelp.

"What—" he began, his
cloak blackening, his skin peeling.

"
Taromi
only protects from regular fire!" Koyee shouted, the heat
blasting her, the inferno shrieking. "You stepped into sunfire
itself, into heat and energy fallen from the true sun above. Your
tricks cannot protect you nor can your faith."

He fell to his knees. He
screamed. His face melted. His eyes bubbled. His fingers curled
backward, blackened, and he tried to grab her, but she jumped back.
His cries seemed inhuman, the cries of falling walls, crumbling
towers, and nations burned in war.

"Sister!" he wailed.
"Sister, please! Mercy! Pity!"

She stared down at the burning
wretch. "Ask the sun for mercy." Suddenly she was shaking,
her eyes burning, and she screamed with fury. "Burn like you
burned my family."

She pressed her boot against
him, shoving him across the floor, and knocked him back into the
mechanical sun. He crashed down, and the flames blazed so high they
touched the ceiling. Ferius screamed, burning away, crumpling . . .
and fell silent.

Before her eyes, he curled up
and collapsed into ash and memory.

The flames lowered.

Koyee fell to her knees, hurt
and trembling, burnt and bloody. She lowered her head and her tears
fell.

"It's over," she
whispered. "It's over."

Shouts rose behind her. She
turned her head and saw a figure running into the chamber—a pillar
of white light in the smoke, her guiding star, her Torin. She smiled
and her eyes closed.

 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE:
STONES AND FLOWERS

Cam groaned as Linee hopped up
the mountain path ahead of him, her hair flouncing as she sang.

"Linee, please." He
panted as he climbed, his legs aching and sweat dampening his tunic.
"Please no more singing. You've been singing the same song for
months. Please. I'm begging you."

She kept on skipping, ignoring
him. She wore a white tunic and a tasseled shawl, clothes from Eseer,
and ribbons filled her hair. She sang out loudly as if performing for
a crowd of thousands.

"And the kittens and the
puppies and the turtles and the guppies, and they all went hopping
awayyyy. And the bumbles and the bees and the doggies and their
fleas, and they all went—"