Moth

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: BUSKERS AND THIEVES

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

BUSKERS AND THIEVES

"Go--away, away!" shouted the wild-haired woman, her eyes bugging out. She held a drum in one hand, a knife in the other. "Away! My corner. Mine."

Koyee bared her teeth, hissed at the woman, and reached for her sword. Sheytusung was a blade of legend, an ancient weapon forged by master smiths, its steel folded and hammered a dozen times. Koyee drew a foot of that steel, but her foe--wielding nothing but a knife of sharpened bone--refused to back down.

"This is my corner," the woman repeated. Her snarl revealed only three teeth. "I play drum here. No flute. No flute here."

Koyee grumbled and slammed her sword back into its scabbard. The woman seemed crazed with hunger; unless Koyee was prepared to kill, she'd have to find another street corner.

"Your drumming sounds like the heartbeat of a dying whale," she said and spun around. She marched away, her own heart beating madly.

She sighed and tried to ignore the tightness of her belly. She had been wandering the city for . . . she no longer knew, not without her hourglass, but it felt like a lifetime. Wherever she found a busy street corner full of purse-carrying shoppers, some busker, juggler, or beggar chased her away.

"They're more territorial than nightwolves, Eelani," she muttered. "Is every street in this city already claimed?" She sighed. "How will we ever earn enough money for the journey home?" Her belly gave a rumble. "How will we even earn enough money to live another day?"

She walked down another street, one of thousands, a strand of gossamer in a web she thought she'd never escape. No people filled this small, cobbled road, and grime covered the walls of glass bricks. A rat scurried down the road, and Koyee tried to catch it--she had seen beggars eat rats before--but it fled into a hole. Her legs itched--they had been itching for a long time--and she scratched them until they bled. An insect landed on her arm and bit her. Koyee slapped it dead, then tossed it into her mouth, nearly gagging but forcing herself to swallow.

"The nice thing about being filthy is the free insects," she said to Eelani. "If I pretend, they taste just like crayfish. Do you remember how we'd eat crayfish at home? Beautiful, red crayfish simmering in a pot, filling our hut with their smell?" Her mouth watered. "I miss home, Eelani. I know you do too."

Clouds thickened overhead, hiding the stars and moon, and it began to rain. Koyee was thankful. Rain cleansed the dirt off and gave her something to fill her belly with. Shivering in the cold, she knelt by a puddle, lowered her head, and drank until her belly bulged. It would trick her hunger into waiting a while longer. The water was brackish and filled her mouth with dirt, but she forced herself to keep drinking.

She walked on, shivering in the cold, her tunic and hair drenched. She had not stopped shivering for a long time, though when she touched her forehead, it felt warm.

"I'm scared, Eelani," she whispered, walking under an awning and around a few discarded barrels. "I'm scared that we'll turn into that woman, a crazy old thing with three teeth, playing a drum on a street corner fifty years from now." Her eyes stung. "We should never have come to this place. I miss home so much. I miss my father."

Invisible hands tugged her ear, and Koyee tightened her lips.

"Yes, Eelani, you're right. We can't despair. Despair leads to hopelessness. Despair worsens every hardship. It's a pit we would never escape. We will fight on." She raised her chin. "We will not abandon our home or our lives."