Page 163 of The Last One
“What is it?” I ask, taking the parcel.
“You like honeycakes,” he says, “but I like these more.”
Philia slows to walk with us, excited to see something besides this dreary landscape.
I unwrap the bundle and press a hand to my cheek in surprise.
Two apricot-cocoa cookies.
“I’d never eaten them until Veril baked them,” Jadon says.
I drop my head. “And now you give them to me?”
“We can’t move ahead,” Jadon says, “if we’re angry at each other. The last thing I want right now is you being angry at me.”
I’m touched by his gesture. I offer a cookie to Philia.
She stares at the sweet treat before taking a bite. “We need each other,” she says, “now more than ever.”
Even though uncertainty still churns in my core, I whisper my thanks to Jadon. The cookie is dry, but that dollop of apricot preserves keeps it sweet, keeps it from becoming sand.
While we stop to eat cookies, Philia unrolls the map and slowly turns around to survey the land. She points to the sky over our left shoulders. “The smoke from the fires is there.”
A smudge of gray sky.
“Before that…” She moves her finger to the left and stops. “That hill in front of the three hills behind it? That’s where we ran from that aburan.” She peers at the stretch of flat land between the woods and the base of those hills on the map and mutters to herself and slowly turns to her left and nods. “We’re going in the right direction.”
Jadon pushes his dark hair from his forehead. “Glad you’re good with maps, Phily.”
“Me, too, Philia.” I keep myself from snorting even though the tug in my core and the moths have already confirmed that we’re going in the right direction. If it makes mortals feel better to see with their own eyes so that it’sreally real, then fine, let them.
“If I’d known we’d have to leave Maford so quickly,” Philia says, “I would’ve prepared better and brought my bow and arrow.”
“It’s a good thing your mother taught you a thing or two about knives,” I say. “Girls should know how to put down monsters that walk on two feet and beasts that walk on four.”
Jadon’s brow furrows. “What are we talking about? Monsters on two feet?”
I squinch my nose. “You had to be there.” I smile at Philia. “We’ll find you a bow and arrows in Caburh, then.”
Pleased, Philia smiles, and her eyes crinkle at the corners.
We head out again, and even though I can’t see it in the oppressive darkness, somewhere behind us, black smoke still roils to the sky—the embers from my fire will never be extinguished. Let it serve as a warning: the Lady of the Verdant Realm will not hesitate to mete out punishment for acts of cruelty.
I search the skies for cardinals who serve Elyn. She must’ve seen that blight in the sky. She has to know what I’ve done.
I am not who I used to be.
I hope that is a good thing, especially if the old me has turned on my family and friends, especially if the old medidbring about death and destruction in the way Elyn has charged.
Yes, I killed Sinth and the soldiers who fought for him, but only after they’d killed Veril. I’ve yet to start a fight.
Am I not supposed to win? And if I were such an awful person, Sybel wouldn’t have sought me out to defeat the One and win the game to save the realm.
Then again, I don’t think Elyn wants me to win anything. And really: I don’t care what she wants. I want what I want: to protect those who deserve the chance to grow and learn, to believe what they want and not force others to comply or die. I want to save those creatures that were born to order—like the horses, the ravens, and Milo. I want to return creatures who are otherworldly here—the battabies and battawhale—and transport them to the places they belong. I will save Vallendor for each of them.
No, I am not the same since my arrival in Maford.
And whoever I was before coming to Maford…I am not her, either.
