Moth

CHAPTER THIRTY: THE DUSKMOTH

CHAPTER THIRTY

THE DUSKMOTH

Coughing and wheezing, Torin pushed himself onto his elbows, then rose to his feet. Blood, death, and feathers covered the small square. He began to stumble down the street, wanting to keep seeking Ferius, but a moan rose behind him. He spun around and his eyes dampened.

"You're still alive," he whispered.

The woman lay on her back, eyes half open, mouth working silently. Blood soaked her silken dress. She still held her sword.

Torin raced toward her and knelt. He touched her cheek and she met his gaze.

"I'm going to help you," he said. His wounds blazed, but the sadness for this woman, for this city, for all the lands of night eclipsed his pain. "I'm going to get you to safety."

Delicately, worried he would aggravate her wounds, he placed his arms around her. She looked up at him. A scar tugged the corner of her mouth, twisting her lips, but she managed a soft smile.

That smile shot relief, beauty, and joy through Torin with more vigor than pain or sadness could ever muster. She perhaps shared a mother with Ferius, but she felt fully good, her soul shining pure through her eyes. Torin's heart beat faster and he struggled to his feet, holding the woman in his arms. She felt no heavier than a doll.

"Sen sen," she said softly. "Sen sen, Torin."

He laughed softly and tears stung his eyes.

"You heard my name? Yes, I'm Torin. What's your name?"

Though she did not speak his tongue, she smiled up at him, held in his arms, her own eyes damp.

"Koyee," she said, pointing at herself.

He took several steps, holding her. "Koy, where can I--"

"Koyee."She smiled weakly. "Ko-yee."

He corrected himself. "Koyee. Where can I find a healer? Do you understand? Healer?"

He didn't know if she understood his words, but her hand rose. Shakily, she pointed down the street.

She wants me to take her there.

Torin walked, carrying her in his arms. They left the square and moved down a network of alleyways. She kept guiding him through the labyrinth. At every alley's mouth, Torin saw cobbled boulevards where troops marched, waving the raven banners and chanting for victory. Koyee led him along twisting, shadowy corridors, some barely three feet wide. They moved through the dregs, heading uphill toward the crystal towers.

With every step, Koyee felt lighter in his arms, and her eyes narrowed further. She lay limp, her breathing soft, growing softer as her blood trickled.

"I will heal you," Torin swore as he walked, limping now, their blood mingling. "I swear to you, Koyee, I will not let you die. I will not." His eyes stung and he gritted his teeth. "I came here into the night for you. I came here because I couldn't forget your eyes, not from the first time I saw you. I won't let you die."

She opened those lavender eyes, gazed at him, and smiled as if she understood. Her eyes closed. Her head tilted back. He shook her in his arms.

"Stay awake, Koyee! Don't fall asleep. Look at me!" He jostled her; she was so frail. His voice was choked. "You have to show me where to go."

She blinked at him. She could not even raise her finger to point, only gestured with her eyes. He kept walking.

They walked for what seemed like miles through the labyrinth of glass and stone, climbing the hill, until buildings grew taller, their facades columned, their windows wide. The towers rose ahead, brighter than the moon. Green, blue, and white, they pierced the night sky. The tallest among them--it must have risen a thousand feet tall--ended with a glass dome. Boulevards stretched here, each full of marching Timandrians, but Koyee kept them to the side streets where no troops moved.