Page 84 of The Musician and the Monster

“We need to go. Now.”

But her body wouldn’t move. Couldn’t. To leave him here again? Like this? How could she? He could hurt himself or someone in the manor. He could flee and hurt someone in the city. She had to do something.

“Go!” Malik shoved her toward the stairs. Ceridwen tripped over her feet. Her knees slammed into the ground, jarring the flute from her hands.

Pain radiated up her body as an unholy roar practically shook the room.

“Don’t!” Malik yelled.

A haze of red sparks hung in the air as she twisted around and saw the monster lunge at Malik. He grabbed the music stand and smashed into the monster’s side, sending it skidding across the ground.

Music fluttered through the air. Ceridwen screamed.Drystan! The concerto!

Black claws scraped grooves in the stone as the monster slid across the floor, scrambling for purchase.

Ceridwen lurched back, suddenly numb. The beast gained its footing and shook its body like a dog shedding water.

Malik crouched beside her, the broken stand still in hand. “We have to go!”

Drystan’s monster roared again. The sound alone threatened to crush her.

Ceridwen shook herself. Malik was right. They had to go. Run.

Drystan.

The monster lunged, breaking through the barrier, crashing into Malik, and knocking her aside.

“Stop!” Malik screamed, the stand a flimsy defense between the claws and his skin.

“No!”No, no, no.

“Run!” Malik yelled.

Her body shook, but she couldn’t let someone else die for her, for her failures. She wouldn’t. And Drystan…killing Malik might kill him too.

Ceridwen lunged at the monster, wrapping her arms around its neck.

It flung her away. Pain flared in her back and head. Spots swam in her vision.

Wood clattered. Malik groaned.

As her sight cleared, the monster took shape before her. Ceridwen’s heart skipped a beat. Terror gripped her. He loomed above her, saliva dripping from his fangs.

A clawed paw thumped next to her head.

Would he kill her this time? Another death on his conscience? Tears leaked down her face. A memory flashed before her, cloaking the room with its vision. Mother lay in herbed. Fresh blood marred the sheets around her lower half. Fionn whimpered nearby, the thin cry of a child not fully in the world and already looking toward the embrace of the Goddess.

“Sing for me, Ceridwen,” she asked, her voice a soft rasp.

The tight rope that bound her throat snapped. Fear flowed away like water. Her song had caused death, but death would follow her silence this night. The certainty of it echoed in her soul. She couldn’t allow that.

“Drystan.”

A sharp whine broke from its maw.

“Keep talking to him,” Malik groaned.

A deep growl cut him off. Ceridwen stared at the monster, trying her best to see the man beneath the surface. She touched his leathery cheek, pulling his focus to her.

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