Empires of Moth (The Moth Saga, Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

army almost a
year ago, and yet he still did not feel like a soldier, only a
gardener. Often he missed his gardens back home—the rustling
euonymus bushes, his flowerbeds of many colors, and the trees he grew
from seed to sapling. But that was back in Timandra, the sunlit half
of the world. No plants could grow here in Eloria, a land of eternal
night. Often Torin wanted to run, to make his way upriver, to return
to sunlight and start a new life away from this war. But always he
stayed.
    "For you, Koyee," he
said, gazing out the window at the city of Pahmey, this great hive
his people had conquered. Timandrian troops marched along the
streets, swords drawn, thugs in steel puffing out their chests as
Elorians cowered before them. "I promised to protect you. So
long as danger marches along these streets, I will stay with you."
    He left the chamber, walked down
a hallway, and made his way downstairs into the common room.
    When
first arriving in The Green Geode, this pleasure den among the towers
of Pahmey, he had found a lair full of bearded, frail spicers—men
addicted to hintan ,
the purple dust they paid their fortunes for. Back then, the spicers
had lain upon mattresses, smoking from hookahs, filling the room with
green smoke. All that was gone. The city of Pahmey had new masters
now, and The Green Geode served new patrons. A hundred Timandrian
soldiers sat at tables where once mattresses had lain. Where spicers
had once smoked in stupor, soldiers now drank ale and wine and cried
out lustfully at the women performing on stages.
    The yezyani of The Green Geode
wore flimsy silks, their faces painted, their jewels gaudy.
Professional performers and flirts, they danced, sang, played music,
and one—an impish little thing named Atana—made marionettes dance.
Soldiers hooted from the tables, tossed empty mugs their way, and
called for the women to sit on their laps or warm their beds. The
yezyani laughed, batted their lashes, and winked at the crowd;
promptly coins were tossed toward them.
    All but Koyee, that was. She
stood upon a pedestal, a single calm pillar in a storm. A clay mask
hid her face, painted white, for men across the city still sought the
Girl in the Black Dress, the one who had slain so many Timandrian
soldiers. On her pedestal, however, Koyee became only a masked
musician, a ghost of sound. She held a silver flute to her lips and
played soft, sad music that nearly drowned under the roar of the
crowd.
    "Come here, little woman!"
cried one soldier, a scruffy man with a yellow beard and red face.
"Come play here on my lap."
    Another Timandrian soldier
guffawed. "He's a drunk! Ignore him and join me in my chamber.
Elorian men are weak as boys; I'll show you a real man."
    Other soldiers, cheeks red with
booze, catcalled at Koyee and reached out toward her, but she ignored
them. She kept playing, eyes closed, until the soldiers grunted and
turned to call out toward more receptive yezyani.
    "You don't belong in a
place like this, Koyee," Torin said softly, his voice drowning
in the din.
    He had seen her fight against
armies, a single woman with a sword. He had seen her courage and
wisdom. And yet . . . a young orphan girl, only seventeen, unwed, the
monks of Sailith hunting her . . . where else could she hide but
here?
    At the thought of Sailith, Torin
grumbled and clutched the hilt of his sword. The monks of sunlight
had almost killed him and Koyee during the invasion of this city.
Since then, the Sailith Order had spread through Pahmey like rot.
Their banners rose upon the old temples of starlight. Their monks
presided in columned halls, judging Elorians to die for crimes as
petty as busking on the streets or daring to meet a Timandrian's
eyes.
    "And they're hunting you,
Koyee," Torin whispered. "Since you wounded Ferius, he
hasn't stopped hunting you."
    As if to answer his thoughts,
the main door creaked open behind him.
    Torin spun toward it and his
heart sank.
    "Speak of demons," he
grumbled.
    In the doorway,