The Song of Wrath

Contents Cover Title Page Dedication On the Edge of Cataclysm Part One: Dark Specters Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Intermission The Man in the Basement Chapter 5 Chapter 6 A Gathering of Accomplices The Massacre at Younger’s Bend Pandora’s Box Opens Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 A Young Man Thinking, III Part Two: Divine Wrath Hell-Raisers Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Van Der Ven’s Proposal Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Rapture Her Bones of Ruin Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 The Next Stage Acknowledgments About the Author Copyright Guide Cover Start of Content Title Page Dedication Acknowledgments About the Author Copyright VII IX X 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268 269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277 278 279 280 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 290 291 292 
 
 Book Two in the Bones of Ruin Trilogy
 The Song of Wrath
 Sarah Raughley
 
 
 
 
 
 FOR THOSE WHO RAISED ME TO BE A DREAMER AND TAUGHT ME TO NEVER GIVE UP
 
 
 ON THE EDGE OF CATACLYSM
 November 22, 1884
 Strange fruit and the culling of the sowers
 STRANGE FRUIT DANGLED FROM THE evergreen trees.
 “What you doing over there, boy?”
 It was the sheriff who’d spoken. After one flick of his head, two men in plain shirts and short black ties grabbed Tom Fables around the neck and dragged him out from behind the tree that was hiding him. He had to run. The entire town was in this forest clearing with full bellies from their dinners. The dying rays of the evening light sifted through leaves onto the women’s fine dresses and the jackets of their cherubic children.
 “Don’t be shy; join the fun!” taunted one of the men, carting Fables toward the crowd. As Fables tripped over his feet, he felt other hands touching him—his waist, his back, his buttocks—pulling him past policemen and city officials, housewives and laughing children, photographers and excited teenagers. All the way to the stage.
 Fables liked stages. As a child, he’d make up his own stories and act them out in the parlor room, hoping the smile on his father’s face meant he wouldn’t get a drunken beating that night. It didn’t. And later that night, when he was broken and bruised and alone in his room, Fables would create another story, one just for him. One where he had his own king to protect him. A king with an attack dog as big as Cerberus that would tear his father limb from limb at the slightest provocation. He’d act it out alone, making the room his stage.
 This was not a stage. It was real. The trees, planted centuries before these townsfolk ever set foot on this soil, were never meant to bear this kind of fruit.
 Fables didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be with his king. After chancing upon him days ago in a lonely Kansas bar, the two had promptly left on their heroes’ journey.
 Hiva was a king not of this world.
 Fables was less a damsel and more a dog, following his leader all week down to Oklahoma and then to this celebration in Okemah. Hiva was searching for someone. A woman. Someone important to him. And Fables? Fables was nothing more than his guide through this new, twisted world. The thought made Fables seethe with jealousy.
 “I sense her,” his