Page 96 of The Song of Sunrise
“Your music moves me,” a deep voice resonates from behind me.
I stand and spin, tipping the edge of the wooden spoon at the throat of my intruder.
Atlys has the audacity to look at me with something like admiration. “Hello, my Sunrise.”
All I can see when I look at Atlys is the cold, unfeeling Underling Lord that chose to sit idly instead of save innocent livesattacked by his own fucking people!
“Get the fuck away from me!” I yell and slap the wooden spoon on this chest. It breaks. I huff out a cry of annoyance and throw the pieces aside. I resume my assault, pushing and pushing,not caring that tears leak down my face. Despite my relentless attempts, he doesn’t move.
“Akemi, please stop! You are going to hurt yourself.”
I see red and shove him with all my might, screaming when I feel a small bone in my wrist snap.
“Damn it!” I cradle my hand and back away from his massive figure until the back of my legs hit the edge of the bed. I sit down and hug my wrist tight. Amongst all of the questions swirling in my head, all I can muster is, “Why?”
“I’m sorry.” Atlys takes a small step forward, then stops himself, tucking his hands into the pockets of his long black trench coat before approaching any further. “That I couldn’t assist with the defense of Redrock. My kind has… limitations. I promise to explain.”
I laugh coldly. “What’s hard to explain about helping innocent people from being murdered for no reason?”
“Akemi—”
“No.Iwill talk now,” I assert and Atlys stills, patient and listening. “When we were called to battle at the end of the second task, all second and third-stone humans heeded the call. Elves from both tribes heeded the call, and yet the Underworld delegations just sat there.Yousat there.
“I waited for you to stand, to join us. You act like you care about me, and yet when other human lives—my people’s lives—are at risk, you don’t seem to care one bit!” I’m yelling at him by the end, chest heaving and breathless. Somehow, I’m closer to him.
I continue, “How can I trust you? How can I know that you won’t leave me to die like half of Redrock?How could you do this to me?”
Now only a foot away, I look up at Atlys, letting him see the scope of my hurt and disdain. He swallows.
“I told you about my history, the attack on Goldenpine, and you promised that you would try to make a change! You promised that your people would do better! But look what happened. They attacked another human village… and for what? To pillage and kill? To torture and capture? What could a nation surrounded by gemstones possibly need to take from those less fortunate?”
With each question, my rage spirals, hot as the sun. “You were complacent, and the people of Redrock suffered because of it, for what? To win the Summit? Gain the political leverage you so desperately seek? Because that’s all that matters to you, isn’t it? Political power over innocent lives!”
I’m shaking. My heart pounds beneath the locked cell of my constricting ribcage. Flashes of the Rose & Raven fill my vision: red blood coating the wood floor, Marrow’s lifeless stare, crashing and clanking of weapons, the screaming children.
I wipe away my tears angrily and look back at Atlys, only to find the silver tendrils of his eyes flicking over me with concern.
“Akemi.” Atlys clears his throat. “Your eyes!”
Near the side of the bed is a small frosted mirror.Oh gods!
My eyes are glowing, molten gold, as if a piece of the sun itself was contained inside me. “What is… what is this?” I sway on my feet, suddenly feeling dizzy.
It is dark, the moonlight the only source of light. I am both here, and not here, like floating somehow between these two places. I can feel my feet planted firmly on the ground. Atlys’s arms hold me upward in Nickel’s cabin, and yet I’m also here, at a different time.
“Quick, hand me the cloth!” Rosie yells to Nickel as she clutches Row tightly to her chest on the floor of the cabin.
My heart stumbles at the recognition of my old friends, but the elation is replaced with fear as I watch, unable to tear my eyes away.
Nickel rummages through a cabinet, retrieves a strip of cloth, and hands it to her. “Here!”
Row’s normally tanned skin is pale and covered in blood. His hand holds in his intestines from a gash in his stomach. He moans as Rosie moves to grab the bindings.
“He’s losing too much blood!” Bane calls from the door. He looks outside once more, then turns to come inside. “There aren’t any Underlings in sight. I think we lost them.” He sheaths his dagger and runs toward his injured friend. “Let me help. Keep him still,” he instructs Rosie and takes the bandages from her.
Rosie strokes Row’s bald head and begins to hum a familiar tune while Bane begins wrapping his stomach. The one Marrow dedicated to me the night he died, I recognize with a start.
Nickel makes himself busy while Bane and Rosie care for Row, making a fire, laying out fresh clothes and blankets, then prepping some food in the kitchen. “Is he going to make it?”
