Page 14 of The Last One
“Put your sword down, Johny,” Jadon says, a glint in his eye. “Now, tell me, one reasonable man to another. How is she supposed to earn twelve geld when no one in this village has enough money to buy food?” He turns to the jailer. “Narder, any ideas?”
“Don’t know,” Narder says. “But if you can’t figure it out quick, she goes to jail.”
My breath catches. “But I didn’t do anything.”
“Your handprints arestillaround Olivia’s neck,” the guard says.
The thief nudges Jadon, who has now closed his eyes and is pressing the bridge of his nose. His lips are an angry white slash against his face, and the muscles in his jaw tense.
I know simmering anger when I see it, and this man is simmering.
Olivia nudges Jadon harder.“Sweet Supreme,”she’s thinking,“say it so we cango.”
Jadon’s eyes pop open, and he growls, “Stop,” at his sister.
My heart races from the threat of Johny’s sword and the fear that Jadon’s about to say, “She’s on her own,” and that I’ll be dragged to the house of poor dead Marget against my will.
Jadon continues to simmer, and he keeps squeezing the bridge of his nose. But his eyes catch mine, and his face relaxes.“I can’t let them hurt her again.”That’s what he’s thinking. He makes an assured nod and says, “Fine. We’ll figure something out.”
And I allow myself to breathe.
Narder pulls me so close that I can see the pores on his face and the purple veins that travel across his nose. “You will pay off your debt,” he says to me. Then he whirls to Olivia and Jadon. “She skips town, you’re paying the geld. If I were you, I’d hold that ugly piece of jewelry as bond until she makes it right.”
I gasp. “That’s not—”
Johny whirls back to me, his scowl deeper than before. “Maybe I’ll take it. Melt it down and make me a spoon and some nails with it. You want that instead?”
I give the guard the smallest headshake. My eyes sting with tears as I imagine my pendant melting over some blacksmith’s fire.
Johny leans in even closer and jabs his finger at my chest. “You will attend the next Assent and ask Supreme for forgiveness. And when you’ve done that, I want you outta my town. We don’t want your kind here. Go back to those savages and butchers who sent you here to kill us and tell ’em we’re protected by Supreme.”
He pauses, then adds, “And if you don’t stop glaring at me with them wicked eyes, I’ll chop your head off.”
Wicked eyes. Fine. Sure. Whatever. I agree with Narder on one point and one point alone: I want out of this town, and as quickly as possible.
“Go!” The guard pushes me away from him.
Jadon and Olivia catch me before I scrape the mud again.
Fire speeds from my elbows to my lungs. I wobble out of their hold and try to exhale as that fiery pressure wanes. At least I’m free from Johny’s touch. A small victory. But now my possessions will be held hostage by two strangers. A bigger defeat.
Together, we watch Johny tromp back toward the crowded village square as Narder turns his attention back to that putrid prison.
The small audience disperses, hesitant to return to their scrawny sheep and carts of withered potatoes. The minstrel restarts his wandering and sings off-key to the strums of his out-of-tune lute. The sound of rain and geld patter against the tables. Everyone’s trying to find calm so that market day can carry on. The threat—me—has been handled. For now.
I once again scan the crowd, hoping to find Nightstar Sparkle, but she’s gone. So gone that I wonder if she ever existed.
Jadon points at his sister, teeth clenched. “I’m tired of cleaning up your messes.”
“I’ve heard it before,” Olivia trills and starts walking.
A lock of Jadon’s thick hair falls over his forehead. He’s coming undone. He runs a hand over his head to push it back and attempts to shoot me a quick glance. His breath stutters, I know it does, because his skin flushes and he forgets to finish yelling at his sister.
I raise an eyebrow and smirk. He’s having a hard time unsticking his eyes from mine.
Yeah, I’m sticky.
He stops trying to look away and chooses instead to walk backward, settling in, never breaking eye contact with me.
