Empires of Moth (The Moth Saga, Book 2) Read Free

of
sunlight," said Shenlai, voice soft. The dragon hovered, facing
the distant light. "They come here to burn, to conquer, to
destroy. The city you see is Pahmey, the western jewel of your
empire; it has fallen to their fire."
    Jin's eyes stung. He had never
seen Pahmey before, but he had read about this city in books and
scrolls. Its hundred towers rose gleaming from the inferno of sunlit
soldiers. The banners of the day—sunbursts upon white fields—rose
from their crests.
    "Timandrians," Jin
whispered. "They're real."
    He had read about Timandrians
too, but he had always thought them legends, creatures no more real
than cave spirits or river wisps. Many of his teachers claimed that
Timandra, the sunlit half of Moth, was only a myth. Others claimed it
was real but that no life could exist in a land of such heat and
fire.
    "This enemy will march
across your empire, Jin," said Shenlai. "They will travel
east. They will seek the capital and our palace. They will seek you
too."
    Jin stared, eyes wide and
stinging, and his heart thudded. "Can you stop them, Shenlai?
Can you stop them like you stopped the assassin in the palace?"
    Shenlai lowered his head. "No,
for I am but a teacher, not a warrior, not a leader. You will stop
them." He turned his head toward Jin, his orbs gleaming with
tears. "You will need all your strength and courage and wisdom.
With them you can fight this enemy."
    "But . . ." Jin
swallowed and felt tears on his cheeks. "But I'm weak. I have no
arms or legs. I was born crippled. The masters say I'm cursed because
my parents were siblings, and now I must suffer for their sin. How
can I fight this army?"
    Shenlai moved his head closer,
and the breath from his nostrils warmed Jin. "True strength is
not of the body but of the soul. And your soul is strong. It is
strong as mountains, as flowing rivers, as the night itself."
    "I don't feel strong."
Jin lowered his head. "Will you fight with me? Will you always
stay near? Some whisper that you're very old; I hear them. They say
you'll die soon and reveal your secret." Jin's tears streamed.
"Please don't die, Shenlai. Please always stay with me."
    Shenlai smiled softly, the wind
fluttering his beard and mustache. "I am very old, Jin. It's
true. And yes, my time will soon come." Jin's tears flowed, but
Shenlai kept speaking, his voice soothing. "Someday soon my soul
will fly to the stars, leaving my body behind. And you'll have to
carry on without me. You'll have to use all your strength and all the
wisdom that I see in you."
    Jin's chin pressed against his
chest. "I don't want you to leave me. I love you, Shenlai."
    The dragon's head moved closer,
and his snout nuzzled Jin, tickling him with that bristly mustache.
    "Death cannot kill love.
Death cannot erase the joy of life. Good memories and love always
stay inside you, a fire that burns forever and warms you even in the
coldest, darkest night. That is why we have memories; they are a
treasure loss cannot claim."
    With that, Shenlai turned in the
sky and began flying back east, back toward the distant capital of
Yintao. They flew for a long time over the plains and under the
stars, leaving the fires of war behind . . . fires Jin knew would
spread. They flew until they saw the lights of Yintao on the horizon,
the city he ruled.
    "Shenlai, I don't want to
return home." Jin lowered his head. "There is too much pain
there . . . too many bad dreams. Can we sleep outside the city under
the stars? I'm frightened and the starlight will soothe me."
    Shenlai laughed softly, coiling
upon the wind. "You are the emperor."
    "I don't feel like one. I
only feel like a boy. Not even a real boy. Please, Shenlai, let's
sleep outside and I can lie upon your scales."
    Shenlai began spiraling down.
The wind whistled around them. Hills rolled below, smooth like
polished onyx, and Shenlai descended onto a hilltop. With gentle
teeth, he pulled Jin out of his saddle and placed him upon his warm
scales. The scales were hard as tiles