Page 138 of The Last One
Yes, I’m traveling with Jadon on the same road, but we aren’t on the same journey.
The afternoon with wine and a hot bubble bath. Those kisses on my shoulder. My veneration of his tattoos.That all happened yesterday!Seems like it happened a lifetime ago, and I wonder now: did he really kiss my shoulder? Did I really lick his markings? Or did the comfort of hot water, bubbles, and wine cause me to hallucinate, to conjure that buzz, that pop, that weakness I experienced as his lips touched my skin?
He saw so much of mejust yesterday, and as I started that final search for my pendant, I’d planned to show him more. Maybe it was a good thing Philia and Olivia interrupted. How would I feelnowif I’d given him everything?
I adjust my satchel strap on my shoulder and sigh. That afternoon wasn’t a total loss. At least I can now picture the markings on my shoulder and over my chest. What they mean, I still don’t know. Why are those markings on my skin? And who inked them? But I now have the answer to the most crucial question.Who am I?The Lady of the Verdant Realm.
That’s why Jamart’s daughter gaped at me. That’s why Jamart prayed when he saw me. The goddess on their altar was standing before them, flesh and bone.
Oh Guardian, gentle Lady of the Verdant Realm, hear the humble plea of Thy devoted servant…
It’s still hard to believe. And no matter how much Sybel tells me that I’m good, the memories of the mistakes I’ve made are all I can hear.
I step over a root rising from the dirt, careful not to fall like I fell after that fight with the burnu. At least I can’t lose my amulet again.
Chesterby—Sybel said that it wasn’t destroyed by an earthshake as Olivia had told me. She claims I destroyed it. Is that the mistake I must atone for now? And what does atonement look like? Will stopping the One be enough? I want to talk out all these questions with Veril, but we’re not alone: Philia and Jadon.
Right now, keeping my distance from Jadon, not only emotionally but physically, has made me feel better. “My stomach has settled,” I whisper to Veril, sneaking a look over to the Renrian. “Do you think that’s because I’m no longer infatuated and have untethered myself from around his finger? Or am I being a petty bitch, which you know I embrace with open arms?”
The old man laughs and whispers, “Goodness, Kai. Maybe the tonics I’ve made you have heightened your senses too much.”
“What are you talking about?” Jadon asks, his jaw tight.
“Sounds like you’re conspiring against us.” Philia laughs, but her eyes don’t.
“If you feel threatened,” I say, “then stop listening and instead prepare for a surprise. Not every word or thing must center around what you can or cannot understand.”
“If there’s something you must know, Miss Philia,” Veril says with a smile, “rest assured that we’ll certainly speak louder.”
Color blooms across the duo’s faces. Jadon’s jaw tightens even more. Their pace quickens until they are several steps ahead of us.
Veril rolls his eyes and pulls his pipe from his sleeve.
We walk in silence, and soon the enchanted forest disappears behind us, devolving into lowlands filled with noxious swamps and twisted, black-trunked trees.
The quiet is punctuated with hands slapping mosquitos, the buzzing of those relentless bloodsuckers, and croaking frogs. Firmer ground finds its way beneath our squelching boots, and I think we’re all pleased to walk upon dry, packed land again. That pleasure is short-lived as we return to softer ground and the stink of decay and rot.
Philia stops in her step and shouts, “There!” She points to the gleaming evening sky.
A falcon circles above. Has to be one of the emperor’s falcons that Jadon mentioned.
The quiet respite skitters away, replaced by a familiar sense of dread. Not good.Sonot good. This journey doesnotneed to include me being arrested for killing the emperor’s men.
I take in our placement—this path has led us out of the woods, and now we’re traipsing across an open, flat stretch of boggy meadow. We stand out like giants in a town of ants. Steep hillsides to our left. To our right, another forest, this one as thick as clotted milk. And above us, that circling falcon scout.
“We have to take the forest route,” Jadon says.
“That’s Caerno Woods,” Veril says. “The road that the emperor’s battalions use runs right through them. There’s a good chance that soldiers will spot us.”
“We’ll have to take our chances, then,” Jadon says. “There are more places to hide in the woods than out here.”
“You’re probably right.” I take a deep breath, then exhale. I hate agreeing with him.
Without further discussion, we race toward Caerno Woods. I slow some, spotting a raven, large and shiny, solid black, perched on the lowest branch of a twisted tree. The bird’s black eyes fix on mine as it fluffs out its throat hackles. This bird, too, feels like a threat. Or maybe it’s nothing at all. Just a bird in a tree in the wild because ravens and owls and other fowls live in the wild.
The raven croaks once as though it disagrees with my reasoning.
“What?”I ask her, my ears fuzzing.
