Читать онлайн «The Moth in the Mirror»
Автор А. Г. Говард
PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
eISBN: 978-1-61312-658-5
Text copyright © 2013 A. G. Howard
Published in 2013 by Amulet Books, an imprint of ABRAMS. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher. Amulet Books and Amulet Paperbacks are registered trademarks of Harry N. Abrams, Inc.
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Contents
1 The Moth’s Machinations
2 Memory One: Kryptonite
3 Memory Two: Carnage
4 Memory Three: Caged
5 The Moth’s Resolution
About the Author
~ 1 ~
The Moth’s Machinations
“You’re sure about this, Morpheus?”
“I am,” Morpheus answered, dragging off his gloves and tucking them into his jacket. “You, however, appear to need convincing. ” Magic tingled at his fingertips, a pulsing blue light just beneath the skin. Due to the iron bridge outside, his powers were limited to a few benign tricks. But it would be enough to get his point across if necessary.
The carpet beetle—who stood as high as Morpheus’s collarbone after Morpheus had consumed a shrinking potion—gulped behind his many clicking mandibles. His carpeted hide quivered. “No, no. Please, you misinterpret my reservations. ” The insect’s twiggy arms trembled as he flipped through the alphabetical tally on his clipboard of all the memories that had been lost in Wonderland. “It looks like a boring way to spend an afternoon, is all … spying on a human’s forgotten moments.
”Morpheus shifted, and his wings cast a shadow over the beetle’s face. “Ah, but this particular human has much to teach me. ”
This particular human had managed to capture something Morpheus desired above all else in the world.
“Have a seat”—the beetle pointed to a white vinyl chair—“and I’ll ready the memories for you. ”
Morpheus swooped his wings aside, sat down, and took a drag from the hookah provided by his host as a courtesy. The sweet, candied tobacco seared his windpipe. He blew puffs of smoke, fashioning them into Alyssa’s face. It was easy to picture the way her eyes always frosted to blue ice when she saw him, filled with both dread and excitement. He adored that about her: the sharpened edge of her netherling instincts, warning her not to trust him, softened by human emotions forged during their shared childhood.
Before her, he’d lived his life in solitude, never needing anyone. He had no idea what spell she’d cast over him. She was beyond frustrating, always pledging her devotion to the wrong side. But her charm was undeniable. Especially when she defied him or glared at him with righteous indignation. It brought the most delicious snarl to her lips.
Morpheus set aside the hookah, although the burning in his chest had nothing to do with smoke. Alyssa was the only one who could quench the fire there, for she was the one who had first stoked those flames.
