Moth

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE DUST FACE GHOSTS

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE DUST FACE GHOSTS

Pat. Pat. The noise thumped in the abyss. Pat. Hiss.

Koyee mumbled in the darkness, clouds of mist shrouding her.

Hiss. Thump thump. Swish.

The creature was stalking her, a beast of shadow, fur bristling, tail flailing. For an instant its eyes blazed, two white lanterns, then vanished. Its growl rumbled.

Koyee raised her spear, its iron shaft wrapped in fur. The tip glinted in the moonlight.

"Go away!" she called.

But it would not; it was a nightwolf of the plains, and she was its prey.

"Here's a pretty thing," whispered the creature, voice like wind over pebbles, like silk across flesh. "Here's a prize for old Snaggletooth."

The darkness closed in around her. Cold sweat drenched her. She tensed, raised her spear, and the creature pounced. Its teeth flashed, its fangs longer than her fingers. Its eyes burned. Koyee raised her spear, but the beast knocked the blade aside with its paw.

The wolf thudded against her, its weight knocking her down, and its claws swiped again. Pain blazed across her face, tearing her flesh, and blood filled her eyes, and she choked and--

Her eyes snapped open.

A beast stared down upon her. It was no longer a wolf but a sickly man, his skin covered in warts, his scraggly hair dangling like cobwebs. Purple splotches stained his single, crooked tooth, telling of years smoking hintan, the spice of deep caves. Koyee sputtered, unable to breathe, and realized that the man was choking her, his hands around her neck.

"You've got a nice sword on your back," the man hissed, saliva dripping down his chin. "Aye, it'll belong to Snaggletooth, little girl. Old Snaggletooth needs a sword. Swords can buy sweet sweet sweet spice so wonderful."

She couldn't even scream.

Koyee kicked wildly, but her legs only found air. She punched, driving her fist into the man's face. Blood spurted from his lip, but he only laughed. His fingers tightened around her neck, and darkness spread across Koyee. Stars floated before her eyes.

How had this happened? She had only been in Pahmey for an hourglass turn or two. She had only found an alley to sleep in. And now . . . did her journey now end so soon?

She could no longer see her assailant, no longer feel pain. Her spirit began to rise.

She floated above this alley, above the crystal city, above all of Eloria. The dark plains and mountains spread for miles. In the west the sunfire burned, the light of Timandra, the realm of evil, and she saw him again.

The sunlit demon. One eye green, one black. A creature wheeling the bones of her father.

She had to stop him. She had to save her home.

I cannot die here in the shadows.

Blinded, she drove her fist with all her strength.

Her knuckles connected with something hard. Pain shot down her arm. The grip on her throat loosened.

Koyee gasped for breath. Foul, fetid air entered her lungs, tasting of rotted meat, but it was the sweetest breath she'd ever taken. The darkness pulled back, and moonlight again filled the alley, illuminating the withered creature with wisps of hair. The man wore only rags and his toenails spread out, yellow and curved. He hissed, blood on his nose.