Page 2 of Moth to Her Flame

The question is, are they friend or foe?

Chapter Two

Riven

The glowing crystals embedded in our mountain hideout’s walls cast shifting shadows as Nocturna’s voice fills our grand hall. Her midnight broadcast echoes off ancient stone walls, mixing with the gentle splash of our internal waterfall.

“Remember, listeners: the truth isn’t just out there—it’swayout there.”

“Someone’s got it bad,” Volt rumbles from his favorite overstuffed loveseat as his golden feathers shine in the light from the fireplace. Static electricity crackles around the Thunderbird, charging the air with its power. “Your antennae haven’t stopped twitching since her show started.”

Forcing my antennae still, I pretend to adjust our salvaged radio equipment. “Just figuring out how to fine-tune the reception.”

“Right.” The wattage of Volt’s knowing smirk could power the entire mountain. “That’s why you’ve repositioned our main antenna three times this month for ‘optimal signal clarity.’”

A chunk of jerky sails past my head toward the Thunderbird.

“Leave him alone,” Cliff calls, rattling the bag of jerky as though he’s going to lob another piece at Volt. The Sasquatch is leaning forward in a huge La-Z-Boy that he rummaged from the dump. It’s in his favorite spot by the fire. We’ve had our tussles in the past, but I soon learned not to get in physical spats with the seven-foot-tall, russet-haired male. “Not his fault he’s got a thing for radio girls with husky voices and lots of attitude.”

“I do not—” The protest dies in my throat as Nocturna laughs at something a caller said. The sound slides through me like moonlight through mist.

“Dude.” Dante, a Jersey Devil, looks up from the ancient tome he’s reading, curved horns gleaming in the crystal light. “You literally stopped mid-sentence to listen to her laugh.” His skin shifts in color from deep crimson to obsidian, while his sinuous tail remains motionless.

Adjusting the medical brace that keeps his injured wing immobile, Dante adds, “Besides, some of us are temporarily grounded and have nothing better to do than notice your obvious pining.” The reminder of his injury, courtesy of a localwolf pack, brings a momentary tension to the room before his typical sardonic grin returns. “At least it’s given me plenty of time to upgrade our security systems.”

Our home, carved deep into the mountain by generations of cryptids before us, usually feels like a sanctuary. Tonight, with everyone’s eyes on me, the grand hall seems smaller. The circular stone table we’re gathered around still bears the etchings of those who came before—creatures of myth and mystery who found refuge here for one reason or another.

“You know what I don’t get?” Dante continues, marking his place in the book. “With all our tech, why haven’t you just looked her up? Found out where she broadcasts from?”

I shift my position restlessly as I pin my wings tighter to my back. They don’t know I already have. Don’t know I’ve seen her cabin, nestled against a mountainside like a beacon for the strange and mysterious. They have no idea I’ve watched her step onto her porch on sleepless late nights after her show as I watched her waves of red hair catching starlight as she stared into the darkness. I feel a jolt as if she’s only a few feet away from me, looking into the heavens as though she’s daring it to reveal its secrets.

“Why would I want to look her up?” I manage to sound calm, though my racing pulse says otherwise. “Her show’s just… interesting.” I manage a nonchalant shrug.

“Interesting?” Volt’s laugh sounds like distant, rumbling thunder. “Is that why you’ve recently been carving a figure of a curvy human woman every time you have a spare moment?”

Heat creeps up my neck. The small wooden carving sits on my shelf, along with other pieces I’ve made during late-night carving sessions. Art helps quiet my mind when I can’t sleep.

“Shh!” Cliff holds up one massive hand, his prominent brow furrowing. “Something’s different tonight.”

We all lean in as a caller describes men in suits with high-tech equipment. The atmosphere shifts, playful teasing replaced by focused attention.

“A maze inside a circle?” Dante sits up straighter. “That’s Apex Evolution Technologies.”

“What kind of company is that?” The hair on the back of my neck rises, instincts warning of danger.

“Some shadowy biotech contractor. Before my run-in with that pack of wolves grounded me,” Dante’s expression darkens, “I did some fly-bys at their facility up near Starfire Peak. Overheard their security talking about ‘acquisition targets’ and ‘power harvesting.’ Maybe I’m paranoid, but if I had to guess, I’d think they’re looking for us—cryptids.”

“If you believe what that last caller said, they’re looking for Nocturna, too,” Cliff adds quietly. The Sasquatch inclines his head toward the big speaker near the fireplace.

“Half her shows are about cryptids,” says Dante, his horns gleaming in the flickering light. “If they’re hunting us, who better to investigate than someone who sounds as though she has inside info about us? Especially with her history of outing one of Cliff’s uncles. If I were them and didn’t mind ruffling some feathers—no offense, Volt—I’d interrogate her.”

I stand, my wings snapping open with agitation as my heart thunders. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? We have to protect her!”

“Just heard it today. Was gonna bring it up, but I got distracted by your love life.”

The sound of her voice flows through our sanctuary, discussing out-of-body experiences and astral projection. Each word twists something deeper in my chest. She’s out there alone, unprotected, while somewhere corporate hunters are plotting… I’m not sure what, but it can’t be good.

“Don’t even think about it,” Volt warns, as he reads my expression. “You can’t just fly to her place and introduce yourself. You’re a Mothman, for fuck’s sake. Besides,” he gives me a knowing look, “you said you didn’t know where she lives.”

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