Page 6 of The Song of Sunrise
Row and Bane rush through the side door, daggers raised, scanning the room. Row nods toward me, his mouth forming the words “over there” to Bane.
Rosie steps in front of me, cast iron pan raised defensively, blocking the mayhem with a fierce determination.
Another flash of light blasts throughout the room from the tall Watcher with dark brown skin. Screams of pain follow.
Two large Underlings charge at Row, snapping me back into my senses.
No!
“ROW!” I sob, my throat raw from screaming—I realize with a start—that I must have been doing this whole time.
Both Row and Bane turn, ready for an attack. Rosie joins them, pan held high above her head.
Fog, wind, heat, and light burst throughout the tavern.
Bane manages to disarm one Underling. Row fights another, pinning its body to the table, while Rosie swings her pan down on its head.
So fixated on watching Rosie, Bane, and Row, I didn’t notice the three Underlings crawling toward me.
I grind my teeth and wrench myself away from Marrow’s body.
I will not let them desecrate him.
Drawing them away, I run toward the kitchen door as fast as I can.
But they are faster.
One crashes into me, pulling me down.
I yelp as my head and shoulder smash into the floor.
My vision blurs as blood-slick hands twist my arms behind my back.
I struggle, but it’s useless. The Underling is impossibly strong. My screams echo, forgotten in the chaos.
“We’ve got a fighter,” one grunts with amusement.
The Underling presses his knee into my back, forcing the air from my lungs.
I gasp, scraping my face against the cold wood. “Get off me!”
I kick my legs free and slam my boot into its thigh. The effort strains my muscles, but the creature just laughs, undeterred.
Another pair of hands grabs my ankles, pinning them in place.
I’ve never much prayed to the Sun Goddess or Moon God before, yet I find myself thinking of them, the afterlife, and what will happen next to my soul. Will I ascend into the great celestial heavens or sink below the Underworld into the fiery depths of Hels?
The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth as I pray to the Gods that never heard me before.
In my head, I hear Marrow’s voice, fading, urging me to live, to fight.
For him, I will.
A tendril of ice-white fog encircles me, weaving itself between me and my captors.
I gasp as the pressure on my ribs disappears. The freezing mist smells like crisp winter morning and frozen pine needles. The fog shatters with a sharp crack, and fragments of Underlings fall in bloody shards of ice. I gag down bile.
“Watchers, please! Take her! Save her!” Rosie’s voice cuts through the chaos.
