Page 47 of The Last One
“She was a beautiful frock,” I say.
Olivia tries to chuckle but can only say, “Yeah.”
By the time I change my clothes, Olivia has brought breakfast out to the forge. She hurries through her potatoes, her eyes popping wide once she finishes. She whispers, “Shit. My book!” She races to the hayloft, leaving me to wash the dishes in a bucket of water and to take them back to the cottage alone, without a chaperone.
And the cottage… I couldn’t see the fullness of its destruction last night, but now, standing before it, I see how bad it is.
The yellow curtains hang limply across the shattered window. The front door has been kicked in, no longer capable of blocking my entry. The hinges squeak with the wind.
Olivia’s still at the barn, searching the straw for her fancy, probably stolen, book, and Jadon’s at the forge, repairing swords. Neither of them can stop me from stepping across the cottage’s threshold. And so, I do.
This cottage, even in its best state, is far from impressive. Really: isthiswhat Jadon and Olivia wanted to hide from me, the reason why they didn’t invite me in? I knew that it couldn’t be because they’re poor and embarrassed by it. I never believed that excuse about me catching Miasma from them—they’re both healthy.
The books have been pushed to the parlor floor, which itself is crowded with broken tokens and baubles. Not one thing has been left upright or unspoiled. Every place my eye lands, there is a monument of destruction left behind by angry men.
I set the breakfast plates on the pantry table and wander back to the parlor. The room is cluttered with overturned furniture: two armchairs, a spinning wheel, a stool, and a rocking chair. The rug shines bright with shards of glass and pottery. The only untouched piece of furniture is the tall, two-doored wardrobe that almost touches the ceiling.
Nothing special. Nothing fancy. I thought the sitting room would have hosted golden thrones because of their insistence that I not enter. For a second, I wonder if any of those broken pots were stolen. If the lavender sprigs were plucked without permission. If the cutting shears were lifted from a tailor’s shop.
Oliviaisa thief, after all.
Maybe they thought I’d steal their knickknacks, thingamabobs, and shriveled potatoes? Did they fear I was a thief just like Olivia, and that I’d do to them as she’s done to others? Yet Gery had the nerve to makemeturn out my pockets after I mucked and milked my way around his barn.
I hear the crunch of bootsteps headed my way.Shit. If it’s Jadon, he’ll see that I’m standing in prohibited space. What will he say? Will he be upset that I entered his home without explicit permission?
“Hey.” Jadon rounds the corner, carrying wood boards, nails, and a hammer.
I let out the breath I was holding to say, “Hey.”
He drops all the supplies into a noisy pile. “You’re like water, you know that?”
I cock my head. “Pardon?”
“You slip in wherever you please,” he says. “Nothing can stop you from entering any space, big or small.”
I swallow. “I needed to bring in the breakfast dishes. I’m not interested in taking your things, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Kai,” he says, shaking his head, “we fought side by side last night. Don’t you trust me by now? Anyway, that wasn’t the reason we didn’t want you coming in.”
“What was the reason, then?”
“Exactly what I said.Miasma. No one knows how it’s passed. If it’s in the air or if it’s in the water or the food. If it’s in the air, we didn’t want a third person who may have had it in close quarters. Olivia and I have escaped with good health because we’ve been very careful, and we’d just met you.”
“Ah.” Whatever. There are now bigger things to worry about.
Jadon grabs the hammer from the pile to start repairs. He lifts a massive board. “Nothing to say?” he asks, squinting back at me.
I tilt my head. “Huh?”
“About, you know, my massive wood or…?” He grins. “Something else to make me laugh and enjoy a moment before dealing with everything?”
I blink at him, excitement flooding through me like hot water. “What a big hammer you have.”
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “You’re faking it.”
“I’m not. Bang something hard for me.” I pause, my skin tingling. “Make me jump.”
“That’s better.” He sets the board against the doorjamb.
