“Koy Mai…” he mumbled, jotting down letters.
“Koyee Mai,” she corrected him. “Ko-yee. Of Oshy.”
He coughed uncomfortably, scratched out the letters, and wrote again. “Koyee Mai of Oshy. Here to speak of ancient spirits.”
“Timandrians,” she said. “And they’re not ancient spirits. They’re real. They’ve alive. They’re dangerous.”
But the guard had already placed the quill back into his belt. He plucked a blue-and-silver ribbon from the scroll and handed it to her.
“You are now four-hundred and seventy-third in line to see the elders.” He smiled pleasantly. “We will call your name when your time comes.”
Koyee raised her eyebrows and groaned. “How long will it take?”
“We approximate … forty-seven turns of a standard hourglass.”
“But…” Koyee sputtered. “But I can’t wait that long! That’s almost two moons! I already spent ten hourglass turns sailing here from Oshy. What if more Timandrians attack? I have to speak to them now.”
She marched forward, trying to push her way between the guards.
The men calmly pressed closer together, blocking her way. Koyee growled, but there were ten of them, each one twice her size.
“Thank you for requesting an audience with the elders,” said one, voice as pleasant as ever, his smile stoic. “Feel free to wander Pahmey and enjoy its sights while you wait. We will call your name when your turn has come.”
Koyee marched away with clenched fists, her shoulders stooped and her eyebrows bunched together. Timandrians had invaded Eloria and slain her father—they were real, not just ancient spirits—and these guards simply dismissed her? She fumed.
Yet what could she do—stand on a street corner and shout of the threat? Koyee had a feeling that would only land her in a dungeon. Leave this city and travel farther east, walking across rocky plains to Yintao, capital of Qaelin? That journey could take three or four moons, even if she had enough supplies. Marching away, Koyee stuffed the ribbon into her pocket.
“Well, Eelani, old friend, we might just have to wait.” A sigh flowed across her. “Maybe the wait will be shorter than the guards said. I just pray no more Timandrians emerge from the dusk until those stuffy elders send soldiers Oshy’s way.”
Her belly rumbled, and Koyee swore she could hear a tiny rumble from above her shoulder.
“You’re hungry too, I know, Eelani.” Koyee bit her lip. “But we’ve got no food. I’d return to the river and fish, but we’ve got no coins left, and we wouldn’t be able to reenter the city. We’re going to need to find something to eat, even if we steal it. Do you know how to steal, Eelani?”
Her spirit friend was silent as always.
Koyee wandered along the streets, belly empty and legs weak. Weariness tugged on her, stronger even than her hunger; she hadn’t slept in an hourglass’s night. She wanted to return to the market, to try and steal or beg for a meal, but could not remembered the way back, and she felt too tired to keep walking.
She found an alleyway, crawled inside, and sat against a wall. Above between the roofs, she saw the fish constellation, her stars, and the sight comforted her. Perhaps here too she was blessed.
Koyee pulled her knees to her chest, lowered her head, and slept. She dreamed of glass towers, swinging lanterns, and demons of sunfire streaming through city streets.
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 smokinghintan, 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.
“Your sword will be Snaggletooth’s!” He lunged toward her again. “Snaggletooth needs to buy his spice.”
Koyee leaped to her feet and jumped sideways. The man lunged past her and hit the wall.
With a single, fluid movement, Koyee drew her father’s sword and swung the blade.
The folded steel sliced into Snaggletooth’s shoulder, spraying blood.
He screamed and glared. He clutched his wound, and blood dripped between his fingers. He bared his single, spice-stained tooth and looked ready to pounce again, then whimpered. Blood dripping, Snaggletooth scurried out of the alley, disappearing into the labyrinth of the city.
With the immediate danger gone, Koyee allowed herself to tremble. She took deep, ragged breaths, her throat burning. She had to lean against the alley wall, the glass bricks cold against her back.
“Eelani, are you all right?” she whispered, and her heart thudded. Had her assailant scared off her dearest friend, her invisible shoulder spirit? When she felt the familiar warmth on her shoulder, Koyee breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank the moon you’re all right,” Koyee said and shuddered.
She had fought nightwolves; her face still bore the scars. Yet she had never known fellow Elorians to attack. Nobody in Oshy, her peaceful village, had ever assaulted another villager.
“It seems we’
ll have to be careful here in the big city, Eelani.” Koyee’s fingers still trembled. “We can’t just sleep alone in dark alleys anymore.”
It was long moments before her heart slowed, her breath calmed, and her trembling eased. She was still alive. She was still here in Pahmey, seeking aid for her village, hungry and thirsty and cold.
“How long have we slept, Eelani?”
She knelt and lifted her hourglass. It had fallen over in the fight, but luckily had not shattered. Koyee stuffed it into her pocket.
With the fear of battle gone, her belly gave a growl. Her throat still ached from her assailant’s grip, but it burned with thirst too. She had not eaten or drunk since entering the city.
She rummaged through her pockets, seeking something—anything—to eat, even only crumbs. Yet she had nothing left, and she had given her only coin to the city guards. Her fingers brushed against something soft, and she pulled out the blue ribbon she had taken from Minlao Palace.
“Come along, Eelani, let’s go back to that tower. Maybe it’ll be less busy. Maybe those guards will finally let us see the elders.”
Ignoring the rumblings of her belly, she tottered out the alley and into the main street. Sparks fluttered in the breeze and heat bathed Koyee. She rounded a corner and saw a great public fireplace where two boulevards met. Flames crackled within a ring of polished stone, burning ten feet tall. An ornate grill contained the fire, its iron shaped as coiling serpents, flying bats, leaping fish, and dancing women. Children gathered upon the hearthstones, holding out their hands for warmth. Soldiers guarded this towering monument of stone, iron, and light, for fire meant life in the darkness of endless night.
Koyee stared into the flames for a while, remembering her small brazier back in Oshy, then kept walking with a smile. People bustled around her, their silks swishing, their sandals clattering. Four men walked down the road, bearing a palanquin of gilded bones; a corpulent man sat atop, smoking a hookah of hintan. An elderly woman shouted curses at him, riding a wingless blue bird that stood ten feet tall, its neck long and thin, its beak silvery.
With her humble fur tunic, bare feet, and empty pockets, Koyee again felt very common here, a fisherman’s daughter in the big city. Most everyone else wore jewels or face paint. With her scarred face, Koyee felt homelier than ever.
“But we have no time to worry about that, Eelani, so stop it,” she said. “Come along, faster now.”
She moved through the crowd, heading back toward Minlao Palace, which rose in the city center. Again its height spun her head. When she craned her neck back, she could just make out the city elders walking inside the tower’s dome, hundreds—maybe a thousand—feet above. They seemed smaller than bats against the moon.
When Koyee reached the palace gates, she waved the blue ribbon at the guards.
“I’m back. Koyee Mai of Oshy. May I see the elders now?”
Clad in their white robes, the guards smiled stoically, holding their halberds. Their chief opened his scroll; it rolled down to his feet.
“Koyee Mai of Oshy,” he said pleasantly. “You are now four-hundred and seventieth in line to see the city elders. Please feel free to explore the city of Pahmey and return when your time is closer.”
Koyee tugged her hair in frustration. “But I’ve been away for an entire hourglass turn! And I’ve only moved three places in line?”
The guard gave her an amiable smile. “Thank you for waiting. The wise elders will be happy to see you when your ribbon is called. We estimate another forty-six turns of a standard hourglass. Thank you and may the moonlight bless you.”
Koyee walked away, hunched over and grumbling. Her belly grumbled just as loudly.
“Damn those guards, and damn those city elders,” she said. “We won’t last another forty-odd hourglass turns on an empty belly, Eelani. I know you’re hungry. Let’s find some food.”
As she wandered down the street, Koyee considered her options.
“We can return to the river and fish. We still have a net on our boat. But how would we get back into the city? I don’t think the guards would take fish as payment.” Eelani brushed against her cheek and Koyee sighed. “No, Eelani, we couldn’t sell our fish on the docks and earn our coin back. Don’t you remember? The guards were scattering anyone who tried to sell wares outside the walls.” Eelani gave a tiny, almost imperceptible tug to her hair. “Why? Why do you think? The city wants more coins. If everyone sold wares outside the walls, nobody would pay their tolls. I know you miss our boat, Eelani, but we can’t leave the city. We’ll have to find food in here somewhere … somehow.”
She made her way back south, moving down twisting streets between the towers.
“Let’s find the market again,” she said. “Perhaps in the bustle we can grab fallen food. If we dust it off, it’ll serve for now. I wish we had something to sell, but all we have is my fur tunic and my father’s sword, and I won’t sell either one.” She smiled wryly. “I’d sell you, little friend, if anyone believed you existed.”
Small feet hopped upon her shoulder in protest.
Koyee could not remember the way back to the market. All of Pahmey seemed built upon a hill, the towers rising from its peak. The streets coiled and twisted in a labyrinth, but they all sloped downward. Koyee navigated by the moon whenever she saw it peek beyond the roofs.
Her feet ached, and she must have walked for miles before she finally saw the market again. Awnings stretched out from glass walls like wings. Beneath them, along the cobbled streets, countless merchants sat upon rugs, peddling their wares from tin dishes, stone carts, and baskets woven of bones.
The scents of food—mushrooms, truffles, dried meats, and fish of all kinds—tickled her nostrils. Her belly gave a plaintive growl, and her throat burned. Koyee licked her dry lips with an equally dry tongue. She needed food and water soon, or she would be too weak to keep wandering this city.
“Thirst can kill us just as much as alley spicers,” she said to her invisible friend.
She wandered through the market. All around her, the merchants cried out their wares. Shouts of, “Fresh clams!” and, “Matsutake wine!” and, “Tin and iron, we buy and sell!” rang in her ears. An old woman leaped in front her, waving a blue lacquerware jug, chanting its price. “Only five coppers, only five coppers.” A man hopped at her side, brandishing a cage holding an albino snake. “Good pet, good pet, thirty coppers, buy him!”
Koyee waved these merchants aside and trudged between several more. She kept scanning the floor, hoping to find a fallen truffle, an escaped crab, or even fish bones to gnaw on. Her belly was so tight that she wasn’t picky. Even a puddle would serve to fill that belly now.
She walked by a vendor who sat on a fur rug, and delicious scents flowed through Koyee like spirits. In a dozen tin dishes, the man sold foods of all kinds: dried seahorses, spicy lanternfish, a dozen types of mushrooms, salted snakes, and even spiders on skewers. Koyee felt her mouth watering.
“Yes, girl, buy some!” the merchant said.
Her stomach gave such a loud growl, Koyee felt her cheeks flush.
An old man hobbled in front of her, hefted some chanterelle mushrooms, and began to haggle. The merchant raised his hands in dismay, arguing about the price.
He’s looking away from me, Koyee thought, and her heart burst into a gallop. Did she dare … truly? To steal?
No. She could not. She was the daughter of a noble warrior; she was no thief!
“I’m not paying more than a single copper for these,” said the old man, gesturing at the mushrooms. He sniffed one and wrinkled his face. “These are no good.”
The merchant groaned. “You are crazy, old man, these are the finest chanterelles in Pahmey. Look how plump and yellow they are. It’s two coppers for a stone.”
The old man placed a bunch of mushrooms on a scale. “I’ll pay one copper or I’ll take my business to Old Periwan. His prices are fair.”
The merchant slapped the scale, sending a mushroom tumbling to the g
round.
“Old Periwan sells dust and stones! You buy these. Great delicacy. I sell you them for a copper and a tin. You buy?”
The mushroom rolled across the cobblestones to Koyee’s feet.
She stared at it, her mouth watering. The merchant and old man were still arguing, paying her no heed.
It’s not really stealing if it rolled to my feet, she told herself, her arms weak with hunger. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. She leaned down, lifted the chanterelle, and began to back away.
She had taken three steps, her prize in her hand, when the merchant called out toward her.
“Girl! You, girl, in the white fur. You going to pay for that, my friend?”
Koyee knew she should return the mushroom, but her hunger thought on its own. She spun and began fleeing through the crowd, clutching her morsel.
“Girl!” the merchant shouted behind. “Stars damn you. Stop her! Stop the urchin.”
Koyee forced herself to slow down. If she ran, she would reveal her guilt. The people crowded around her, and she wormed her way between them. Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to wander calmly, to pretend to be shopping leisurely. She moved farther and farther down the street, knowing the merchant could not follow her, not without abandoning his wares to other thieves.
So I’m a thief, she thought and shame flooded her.
But her hunger was greater. She kept walking until the merchant’s calls faded behind.
Then, in the most joyous moment of her life, she brought the mushroom to her lips. She bit deep.
Earthy flavors exploded through her mouth, tasting of meat, smoke, and a hint of sweetness. Koyee closed her eyes and moaned. The heartiness flowed through her, from her tongue down to her toes. She bit again, savoring the juices that filled her mouth. With a third bite, the mushroom was gone. She sighed and opened her eyes.
“I want more, Eelani,” she said. “This is like hunting on the plains. It’s a different game with different dangers, but it’s still hunting.”
She kept walking through the market, her hunger only intensifying with the lingering taste of mushroom. Down a few more twisting streets, these ones selling beads and scrolls and slippers, she came to a road rich with the scents of seafood. Under green awnings, stalls displayed the spoils of the river.
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