The immense building could have been designed by a rabbit; it seemed more warren than house. The walls, floor, and ceiling were exposed wood, oily and aged. Ethereal paintings of moths with black circles on white wings crowded the walls in the hallways. The same species of moth that was inked on my mom’s back. “What kind of moth is that?” I asked. Hearing my question, Stig glanced over his shoulder and gave my mom a look that I didn’t know how to interpret as anything other than a warning. “It’s … an Eclipse moth,” my mom said, and then quickly added, “But it isn’t real. That is, it doesn’t exist. It’s like a fairy tale creature.” “Then what’s with the obsession?” Mom shrugged. “Eclipse moths are the Kalyptra’s totem. Sort of a mascot or a family crest.” I guessed there was more to this story, but Mom didn’t seem keen on talking about it in front of Stig, so I let it drop. We turned a corner and Stig nearly collided with a girl heading fast in the opposite direction.
