Free Moth by Daniel Arenson Page A

looked powdered and soft while hers were callous, and their faces seemed so fair while hers was scarred.
    She whispered to Eelani, "I wager the people of these streets never gutted a fish, dug through rocky ground for truffles, or built walls of clay."
    As she kept walking, she passed a temple, its marble columns topped with dragon capitals. A glass dome rose above the columns, large enough that Koyee thought it could have enclosed all of Oshy. When she peered between the columns, she saw priests with flowing white beards and flowing white robes. Starlight fell upon them through the glass dome. They sang to the constellations, voices deep and sonorous; Koyee found the melody strangely sad, a song that sounded ancient and beautiful, sweet yet melancholy, like a warm memory in a cold place.
    She kept walking, moving away from the temple. Across a cobbled square rose a great pagoda—this one not a home but a castle—its five tiers of roofs tiled blue, its walls lined with archers. Deeper into the city, towers began to rise. The first towers Koyee passed rose little taller than the surrounding houses, but soon they grew larger. Even when Koyee craned her neck all the way back, she couldn't see their tops.
    She must have walked for a full hourglass day before she reached Minlao Palace. When finally she stood before it, she felt smaller than a speck of dust, smaller than a single star in the sky. The tower loomed above her, carved of silver crystal. It was easily the tallest tower in the city. High above, its dome shone like a second moon, giving the palace its name—Minlao, the glow of the moon.
    "Well, here we are," she said. "If there's any help in the world, it lies here."
    She squared her shoulders and ignored another rumble in her belly. She walked toward the tower gates.
    More guards stood here, but these ones wore no armor. White robes flowed across them, and their hair flowed just as white and smooth. Their large, lavender eyes blinked at her. They held halberds and swords hung across their backs, their hilts wrapped in silver silk. Koyee stood five feet tall, average height for a girl from Oshy; these guards towered two feet taller.
    She marched up toward them, placed her hands on her hips, and tried to speak in a loud and steady voice.
    "I am Koyee Mai, daughter of Salai from the village of Oshy. Our village has been attacked. Do the elders of Pahmey dwell here? I must deliver this news."
    She wondered if the guards would flinch at "Mai," the title of a woman with no father, brother, or husband; she knew that some spurned the mai, calling them loose women. These towering, robed guards only smiled, though no warmth filled their eyes.
    "Welcome to Minlao Palace," said one; his face was oval and his forehead high, and silver paint coiled across his jutting cheeks. "The elders of Pahmey watch their children from this tower. They are wise and see far. You need not fear, child of Oshy, for you are safe here, and the elders defend the great nation of Qaelin."
    Koyee cleared her throat. "I'm sure they're very wise indeed and see very far from up there. But Oshy lies a great distance from here, all the way on the border with Timandra." She took a step closer. "The Timandrians have attacked us. I must speak with the elders."
    The guards stepped closer together, barring her passage. Again, the guard with the silvery face smiled upon her.
    "Many come here wishing to speak with the elders," he said. He swept his arm behind him, gesturing at the palace gates. "Behold all who've come to hear their wisdom."
    Koyee stood on tiptoes, tilted sideways, and peered at the tower's base. Her heart sank. Along cobbled streets and squares she saw a crowd of people all gathered together, standing still, waiting.
    She gulped. "I cannot stand here and wait with them! My village needs help. All of Eloria could burn if Timandrians now dare pass the dusk. Take me to your elders at once."
    The guards cleared their throats and blinked again.
    The