Moth Read Free Page B

He claims to protect you? Did he protect our dearest Yana, a beautiful child snatched too soon?" His beady eyes blazed. "The demons slew her. The dwellers of the dark." Ferius's lips peeled back, baring his teeth. "The creatures slew a being of the light. Only Sailith can defend us blessed, sunlit children from the beasts of darkness. Only Sailith can defeat the Elorians."
    Those words swept through the crowd like wildfire. Men shouted and brandished their weapons. Children wailed and one woman fainted.
    "We must kill one of their own!" shouted a farmer.
    "We must fight back!" cried a woman, face red, and raised a cleaver.
    "We will fight back." Ferius raised his arms. "My friends, the Sailith Order does not merely claim to defend you while letting children die. Sailith fights against evil."
    Torin began to object, but it seemed nobody heard him. Voices rang out. Fear boiled into anger. Smiling thinly, Ferius reached into his robes and pulled out an effigy of wicker and wood. He held the doll over his head. It was shaped as an Elorian—its eyes oversized, its hair white, its wooden claws painted red.
    "Sailith does not cower!" Ferius shouted. "Sailith will slay the beasts."
    He snapped his fingers. As if by magic, a spark flew toward the effigy. The small, wicker Elorian burst into flames. The villagers cheered, raised their fists, and waved their weapons. Ferius tossed down the effigy and stamped it with his boot.
    "Death to Elorians!" the monk shouted, and the people answered his call.
    "Death to Elorians! Death to Elorians!"
    Torin raised his hands and shouted above them. "My friends, please. Calm yourselves. Do not spread more violence."
    Those words only seemed to whip Ferius into a deeper frenzy. He paced across the hilltop, robes swaying and eyes wild.
    "See how the heathen loves the nightfolk," the monk cried. "See how he wishes to protect them. See his darkened left eye, an eye blind to the sunlight; does his evil eye gaze eternally into the night?"
    The people grumbled, pointed at Torin, and muttered of treachery. Torin fumed. He held no love for Elorians. He had seen Yana's body cut and butchered. He had walked to the very cusp of darkness and gazed upon its unholy plains. His parents had died in the plague—an illness the people claimed Eloria had spread. And now he was accused of loving the enemy?
    "I only want to stop more bloodshed—" he began, but Ferius was already walking downhill, calling for the people to follow.
    "My monks bear lanterns, my friends," he said. "We will bring light to the darkness. We will march into the dusk, and we will find the demon that slew our child. We will have vengeance!"
    The mob roared. "Vengeance! Vengeance!"
    Robes swaying, Ferius led the people downhill toward the shadowy, eastern forests—the realms of dusk where the sun faded into the eternal night. His three followers, hooded and silent monks, walked at his sides. They produced oil lanterns from their packs, lit flames within, and held the lights high. Lanterns had no use in Fairwool-by-Night, a village drenched in eternal sunlight, yet all followers of Sailith carried them, symbols of their faith.
    "We will light the darkness!" Ferius shouted, raising his own lantern. "We will instill fear in the demons' hearts."
    Torin grumbled and fear filled his own heart. He had loved the girl Yana, yet she had wandered into the shadows. She had placed herself in danger. And now Ferius would lead fifty people into the same danger. How many would the Elorians slaughter—like they had slaughtered Yana?
    Reluctantly, he began to follow the mob downhill. He could perhaps not sway them away from the darkness, but he was still a Village Guardian, and he would do his best to protect them. He passed by his fellow guards and gestured for them to follow.
    "Come on," he said. "We're going with them."
    Short, scrawny Cam raised an eyebrow. Tall, portly Hem swallowed a handful of mulberries and wiped his hands on his pants.
    "Are you quite