The Knight and the Moth Book PDF Free by Rachel Gillig

My brows shot up. “Animated how?” “Will there be kissing?” the gargoyle asked. “What-no.” Rory made a face. “We’re going to…” He turned to Maude for help, but she offered none, grinning as he struggled to articulate. “We are taking up the mantle and challenging this man to his craft,” King Castor said, then blinked…

“Are these the eyes of a mortal-the inkwell of a mere man ?” His breath smelled of limestone rubbed too hard or too long. Rotten. “I am Traum’s Scribe. I’ve walked the cobbled streets of the Seacht for over two centuries, bearing magic. My ink never dries, a tool-a weapon. I can travel without being…

“That.” The gargoyle had dropped lower in the sky, making sweeps over the nearby hills. When he flew over us, the scribe cried out, ducking into his stall. “What kind of fowl-like sprite is that?” There was a loud crash. The gargoyle landed upon grass. Sneezed, then toppled. “Did that man just call me foul,…

“One gargoyle per Diviner.” “Did you see anything? Anyone suspicious?” “Besides you? No.” His eyes narrowed. “Who broke the mirror?” “I did.” “Why are your arms bruised?” “I’ve been pinching myself. To stay awake.” Rory’s voice went rough. “And the blood?” His hand came up slowly-a phantom through my hair, pushing it away from my…

“If only we had a tool that could help us, oh, I don’t know-move through walls?” “Fine.” Rory reached into his pocket once more- “I say, what on earth is the racket?” The knife I didn’t know Rory carried was soaring. It hit the batlike gargoyle between his stone eyes, then dropped brusquely onto grass….

I dove for the keys in the batlike gargoyle’s hands. “Open the shed door-now.” Stone fingers curled around the iron ring. “Take me with you, Bartholomew.” “What?” “Is my voice too quiet?” He hauled in a breath. Shouted in my face. “Take me with you, Bartholomew! I don’t want to start over again and again…

It was my first time on a horse. I hated it. “You’re too rigid,” Rory called over his shoulder. “You’re going to knock the wind out of yourself. Relax, Diviner.” Relax. Sure. Maybe in my next life. All I could think about was Rory’s coin. The Artful Brigand’s coin. How many times had I dreamed…

No. The truth of what One had seen beneath her shroud had not saved her-nothing had. I slammed my fist into the mirror instead, shattering the already fractured pieces. Glass rained upon the floor. I dropped onto my mattress. Buried my face in the pillow that still smelled of One. Night came, the moon tossing…

“Almost worth the sleepless nights,” Three muttered through a yawn. “Almost.” “What of your knight?” One put her hand on my shoulder. “Was his dream interesting?” The moth. The vision of the statues in the courtyard come to life. Of the Diviners, twisted and wailing. “I-” The dream lodged in my throat. “I don’t know….

Our chairs groaned as we sat. The abbess took my hand, her silken glove so much finer than my toughened palm. I loved the way it felt. “You are here about the runaways.” “That’s just it, abbess. I don’t believe they ran away.” The light from the fire cast long shadows over her. She shifted…