Page 139 of The Last One
“Prepare, Lady.I see death. Close.”Her dark eyes remind me of my pendant’s stone.
“How close?”I ask, my head swiveling to keep her in sight.“What do you mean?”
“You already know.”
I stop and turn back to the raven.“What exactly do I know?”
I don’t hear her answer because she takes to the sky.
I rejoin my companions waiting at the edge of the forest. Jadon appears confused or maybe conflicted. His brow furrows as he runs a hand through his hair.
“We should take a moment and think this through,” I say.
The trees of Caerno Woods loom monstrous and tangled. Mist creeps along the ground beneath their trunks, hiding misshapen roots, razor-sharp snares, and holes large enough to swallow four weary travelers.
“We need to plan—”
Another bird cries. This time, though, it’s not thekak-kak-kakof a falcon. This time, it’s the beepingcheer-cheer-cheerof—
“A cardinal,” I say, eyes on the red bird fluttering madly above us.
Another bird marking us for its master.Elyn.
That falcon means the emperor’s men are near—maybe on that road through Caerno Woods. That cardinal suggests that Elyn’s also close—maybe in the plains, the easiest route to travel. And the raven.
Prepare, Lady. I understand her now.
If Jadon enters these woods, he could die. If Idon’tenter these woods,Icould die.
“What should we do?” I ask Jadon, my heart shuddering.
His mind isn’t as scrambled as I thought, and his clarity ends in the final thought I allow myself to hear.“If I have to fight to keep her safe, I will.”
Even though my anger is still skintight, my heart pushes at my chest, touched by his continued care.
“Are we going ahead?” Philia whispers, face flushed and sweaty.
Both Jadon and I say, “Yes.”
I turn to him and ask, “You ready?”
Jadon swipes at his mouth. “Do I have a choice?”
No, he doesn’t.
Nor do I.
42
Steam swirls at the tops of Caerno Woods. The forest sings, and the rustling leaves whisper a lullaby. Birds and bats, swooping sparrows, and chatty nightingales flutter in the dusk, disappearing into caves and hollows. The nightstar, fat and yellow, climbs higher in the sky behind us.
The wind whistles through the cracks in the logs, and the cacophony of nighttime creatures surrounds us like fog. Veril pants as he catches up with us. I come to a halt as something grabs my attention over all this racket. I hold up a hand. “Stop,” I whisper. “Don’t move. You hear that?”
Jadon and Philia crane their necks. Veril closes his eyes.
There it is.“Baying,” I say.
Veril opens his eyes and nods. “A dog.”
