Shadows of Moth (34 page)

A chinking sound
rose above, and a roar pierced the world, louder than thunder. The
dagger still clutched in her hands, Madori opened her eyes, looked
up, and gasped.

A black dragon flew
above, and Jitomi sat upon its back, calling her name.

"Jitomi!"
she shouted back at him, tears in her eyes.

A choked sound
ahead of her drew her attention. Madori looked back down to see Lari
trembling, her skin pale. Her eyes widened with rage. Her hands
balled into a fists.

With a roar, Lari
leaped forward, slammed against Madori, and knocked her down. The two
women tilted over the edge of the smoking pit . . . then fell,
crashing down toward the shadows and skeletons.

 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT:
UPRISING

Koyee swung her
pickaxe again and again, chipping away at the wall. Around her, a
thousand other slaves worked with her. All were silent this turn.
None wept, wailed, or so much as groaned. Nervous eyes darted toward
Koyee, then up at the sky. She followed their gaze.

The
moon is gone,
she thought. Only the stars shone above.

It was time.

Yet Koyee kept
working, loathe to give the signal to attack. She kept chipping away,
waiting for . . . for what? A shred of hope? A sliver of courage?

She looked behind
her. Upon the chasm's eastern ledge, a hundred soldiers stood in
steel, staring down into the mine. Beyond them lay a camp of tents,
and somewhere up there Madori still lived, still needed her, needed a
mother.

Once
I swing this pickaxe at a soldier, I will never see my daughter
again,
Koyee thought.

She took a shaky
breath, and her arms trembled. Guilt coursed through her along with
her fear. Why had she always been so hard on the girl? Once Madori
had grown up, had learned about her mixed blood, she had begun to
rebel, to shout at her parents, at anyone who approached. Koyee had
always responded with shouts of her own, even with a few slaps to
Madori's cheeks, and now the guilt seemed too great to bear.

I
should have hugged you then,
Koyee thought,
not
fought against you. I should have held you close, told you that I
loved you, told you that your crazy hair, your crazy clothes, your
crazy ways are fine, that I love you as you are. Instead I scolded
you, and I drove you away from me.

Koyee would have
sold the treasure of an empire for another life with Madori, even
just another moment—to hold her daughter, to tell her that she loved
her always, that she was sorry.

I
might never see her again,
Koyee thought.
But
if Madori must see me die, if she must see my body wheeled away, at
least she will know I died fighting.
Koyee's eyes stung.
The way my father died when I was young.

She took a deep
breath, remembering that turn—so many years ago—when Torin had
returned to her the bones of her father. Koyee squared her shoulders.
She raised her chin. She turned toward the other miners, and she
shouted as loud as she could: "Elorians! We are the night!"

Across the mine,
the Radian overseers stared, confusion twisting their faces.

An instant later, a
thousand miners swung pickaxes at their masters.

Koyee screamed as
she swung her tool, now her weapon. Overseer Nafar ran toward
her—towering, gaunt, and sneering. The Magerian raised the stump of
his right arm, the one which ended with a whip instead of a hand. He
swung that whip toward her. Koyee's pickaxe drove into his face
before the lash could strike her. The overseer—the man who had
whipped her so many times, had slain so many Elorians around
her—crashed down, blood gushing from the ruin of his face. Koyee was
so weak she nearly collapsed, but she swung again and again, slamming
the pickaxe down until the overseer moved no more.

That
is for all those times you beat me,
she thought, panting, blood on her face.

"The
nightcrawlers are attacking!" shouted Gora, the squat Magerian
who had led Pahmey's survivors here, who had beaten Madori bloody too
often to count. Koyee silenced the brute with a swing of her pickaxe
just as he drew his sword. When Gora fell, blood gushing from his
belly, she drove the pick into his neck, finishing the job.

That
is for my daughter,
she
thought, drenched in his spurting blood.

She glanced around
her, panting and dizzy. Across the mine, the Elorians were swinging
their picks against their masters, but only three other Radians had
fallen; many more remained. Dozens of Elorians already lay dead,
pierced with Radian swords or simply fallen to exhaustion and
disease, the attack taking out the last of their strength. Koyee
watched, frozen for an instant, as the living Radians plowed through
the herd of slaves, swinging their swords, cutting Elorians down.
Most of the picks rebounded harmlessly off the Radians' armor.

"Aim for their
faces!" Koyee shouted. "Don't attack the armor. Elorians,
aim for—"

Whistles filled the
air. Arrows descended from above the canyon. Koyee turned to see many
Radian archers standing upon the rim, firing down. The arrows drove
into the crowd of Elorians, and screams rose. Blood splattered.
Elorians fell dead.

Koyee screamed and
swung her pickaxe again. Two other Elorians fought at her side; the
three picks took down another Radian soldier.

And
so here I die,
Koyee thought as more arrows fell from above.
Here,
in darkness, fighting, a weapon in my hand.
It was not a bad way to die.

"Fight your
way out!" Koyee shouted. She pointed at the craggy staircase the
Radians had carved into the canyon wall, letting them move between
the mine and tents above. "Up! To their camp! Overwhelm their
tents and slay them all!"

She knew it was
hopeless. Not with a hundred thousand slaves could she defeat men in
armor, not with the slaves so famished and ill, already nearly dead,
chains hobbling them. But if she could, she would die seeing Madori
one more time. Her daughter would see her fighting as a free heroine,
not dying as a slave.

"Eloria, we
are the night!" Koyee cried, leading the way toward the stairs.
Behind her, those Radians already in the canyon were butchering
Elorians one by one. From above, arrows still fell. Soon a hundred
slaves had died, but Koyee climbed onto the staircase, and she swung
her pickaxe, knocking a Radian down. The other Elorians climbed
behind her—bald, battered, weary, and free warriors.

"We are the
night!" they cried together. "For Eloria! For Koyee!"

She kept climbing,
knocking men down. Her ankles were hobbled, the chain only a foot
long, just long enough to let her climb step by step. She had fought
in battles before—upon the walls of Pahmey, in the canal of Sinyong,
in the streets of Yintao, in the heart of Cabera Mountain—but here
was her greatest battle, the last battle of her life. Here she was
stronger and nobler than ever before.

She reached the
edge of the staircase, emerged from the mine, and hobbled into the
camp. Her ankles were still shackled. Her arms were so weak she could
barely hold her pickaxe. Twenty Radians or more rode toward her upon
their horses, all in steel, bearing lances, and Koyee raised her
pickaxe, ready to fight and die.

Steel arrows flew
through the night.

Battle cries rose.

Koyee winced and
swung her pickaxe blindly.

The Radian riders
crashed down, arrowheads bursting out from their chests. Their horses
reared, whinnied, and scattered.

Koyee stared and
gasped. Tears flooded her eyes.

"Hope,"
she whispered. She trembled. "Hope is here."

With battle cries
and swinging katanas, a hundred Ilari soldiers rode into the camp
upon black panthers, slaying the Radians and roaring for the night.

Koyee ran. Her
chains clattered between her ankles. She fell and found that she
could not rise. She crawled.

"Madori!"
She climbed over a Radian corpse. At her side, an Ilari warrior
astride a panther locked swords with a Radian rider. "Madori!
Daughter!"

No answer came.
Koyee tried to stand up. She fell again. Her head thumped against the
earth, and her pickaxe fell from her hands.

* * * * *

They rolled among
the smoking bones, the daughter of an emperor and a famished, dying
woman torn between day and night. Above in the sky, the dragon howled
and swooped. Magic shot out from Lari's hands, blasted skyward, and
stretched across the pit's opening like a membrane. Tianlong the
dragon crashed down against the black, quivering shield; Madori could
see his fangs and claws scratch against it, unable to break through.
Jitomi's muffled voice cried from beyond: "Madori, Madori!"

Lying with Madori
among the bones in the mass grave, Lari laughed maniacally. "They
cannot break through! Even the dragon of the nightcrawlers is too
weak to resist my magic." She looked back at Madori. "It's
just you and me now, mongrel. You tried to steal my plaything. You
tried to kill yourself. But you are mine to torment, and you will be
mine for many years." She grabbed Madori's wrist. "Return
me my dagger so that I may cut off your fingers. You won't be able to
try that trick again without any fingers."

Madori screamed and
tried to hold onto the dagger. But she was too weak. She cried out as
Lari twisted her wrist, and the dagger fell from her grip.

"You cannot
win!" Madori shouted. "Ilar attacks. Eloria fights back.
You will die this turn."

Lari laughed and
drove her knee into Madori's belly. Madori coughed, unable to
breathe. She gagged, losing the paltry meal she had eaten in the
tent.

"I will live
forever!" Lari shouted, laughing. Shreds of magic still clung to
her fingers, and her hair crackled and rose like a fire. "No
nightcrawler can harm me. I will turn you into a creature. Give me
your hand! I will cut off finger by finger."

She
grabbed Madori's wrist again. Lying on the pile of skeletons, Madori
screamed, grabbed a bone, and tugged. The bone detached from the
skeleton, and Madori swung it like a club. The femur connected with
Lari's head with a
crack
.

"You cannot
win," Madori repeated, her voice hoarser now, weaker. Every
breath drained out precious energy. "I defeated you at the
trials at Teel. I will defeat you now. Your kind will never win."

She swung the bone
again. Lari's temple bled, but the princess managed to catch the
bone. She shattered it in her palm as if it were a twig.

"We've already
won, mongrel." Lari smiled and licked blood off her lips. "Your
kind is all dead, all but a few scattered wretches. You will be the
last nightcrawler alive."

She swiped her
dagger.

The blade sliced
Madori's finger, cutting through the joint.

Madori screamed.

Her blood gushed
out, spraying Lari's face. Her finger fell, dangling from her hand by
only a shred of skin. There was no pain, only horror, only so much
blood.

"I love the
taste of your blood." Lari greedily licked the blade. "Now
for the next finger. Slower this time, so you can feel it."

The princess
grabbed Madori's hand again and lowered her dagger.

Madori's eyes
rolled back. She felt ready to faint. She felt the blade begin to cut
her skin.

I'm
sorry, Mother. I'm sorry. I failed you.

Koyee was smiling
down at her, rocking Madori in her arms, singing a lullaby, a song of
the night. They were back in Fairwool-by-Night, and Madori was very
young and felt very safe. Sunlight fell through the windows and a
robin sang outside. The music soothed her, the song "Sailing
Alone," a song of fear, of longing, of passageways in the dark.

You
survived, Mother,
Madori thought.
You
survived, Father. You fought great enemies and you defeated them.

The blade cut
deeper.

"Good . . .
bleed for me, mongrel," Lari said.

Madori screamed in
rage.

"I am
Elorian!" Her voice roared, torn with pain. "I am a
daughter of Eloria. We are the night!"

She formed a fist
with her four remaining fingers. She drove that fist upward and
slammed it against Lari's face.

Lari fell back, her
nose crushed, her tooth knocked loose. The dagger fell from her grip
and clattered between the bones. As the skulls watched, Madori lifted
the dagger, stumbled toward Lari, and drove the blade downward.

The dagger crashed
into Lari's chest, thrust between the ribs, and sank deep.

Lari screamed,
gurgling on blood.

"You could
have lived," Madori whispered. "You could have lived in
peace, an empress, an ally." She twisted the blade. Lari
twitched, kicking, gasping. "Now you die among the bones of
those you murdered."

Madori pulled the
dagger out. Lari gave one last twitch, one last gurgle, then lay
still and silent.

The magic vanished
above, revealing the sky again.

Madori fell.

She lay on her back
atop the skeletons. Her head tilted sideways, and she saw the skulls
looking at her, and it seemed to Madori that she could see their eyes
again. They were watching her. Thanking her.

Arms wrapped around
her, and blinking, Madori thought she could see Jitomi's face. He was
kneeling above her, calling her name, but then he faded like the
world, and she smiled.

 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE:
THE DISTANT LIGHT

"Hush now,
little Madori. You are home. You are home."

The little girl
smiled softly, her nightmares easing. Whenever she dreamed of
monsters under her bed or ghosts in her closet, her mother's soft
words could soothe her. Mother was stroking her hair now, and Madori
felt her fear flow away. The pain of fever dreams melted like the
candles they used in the night.