Page 56 of The Last One
“So, you’ve been no help,” Elyn says. “You’ve wasted my time. I don’t appreciate that.” She fakes a gasp, then looks to the sky. “Oh, look. More guests.”
A howl as vicious as thunder and deeper than the bellows of the stormiest sea shakes the town square. In the sky, I can see the outline of the creature that made that deafening roar, only by its vibrant blue glow and its belly filled with flame.
The villagers scream, huddling together for protection.
“So,” Elyn says, her voice heavier, “if you decide that you’ve seen my old friend, just call my name and I’ll come running.”
My skin feels like it’s being poked by millions of knitting needles, and the tendons of my neck tighten. I want to scream, but I can’t scream. Not yet.
Another blast from the sky, this one bursting with flame. A fireball strikes the steeple of the chapel. When the smoke clears, Elyn and her sentinels are gone, no longer holding court in the village square.
Townspeople scream and scatter as another fireball strikes the chapel.
“C’mon,” I tell Olivia, scrambling out from the rubble.
People dart from the square to their homes. The closest buildings to the chapel, though, are already burning.
“Where is Father Knete!”
“Run!”
“The chapel’s on fire. We have to put out the fire!”
People duck and shove, cry and stumble as a giant creature—is that a fly?—swoops and shoots burning breath into the village. Smoke billows to the sky as flames lick across the rooftops and consume the remaining carts of vegetables.
“Kai!” That’s Jadon.
I grab Olivia by the arm and race to find him. Thankfully, he’s wearing his steel-and-leather breastplate again and carrying two swords.
“Where have you been?” I shout.
“Raffolk was scared shitless, and he forced us to stay to protect him. I left anyway and ran to get my armor and—” He peers at my hands. “Where’s the sword from the Otaan soldier?”
“At the cottage,” I say.
“Use this for now.” He tosses me his second sword, one with a silver blade and a golden-leather handle.
Another roar from the creature still circling the smoky sky, and that roar sounds like scores of beasts and infinite boulders slamming into a canyon. Its bellow vibrates across my face and shoulders, pinches my skin, and constricts my lungs.
The jail catches fire. Most of the timber cottages are burning, too. The flying beast dips lower to the ground.
I duck, and now I can better see this creature. Shit. I gasp, and my blood runs cold with recognition.
Cursufly.
But the creatures I remember were the size of deer. The cursufly now hovering over the burning church is bigger than any deer. It’s larger than a cottage. Its six scaled legs are thick as birch tree trunks. Its vulture-like feathers are as long as cottage doors. White lights glow where eyes should be. Long, lank hair falls from its head like a crone’s. Flames shoot from its mouth, and the stench of sulfur gurgles like an everlasting spring in its belly.
Smaller cursuflies swoop through town, fire bursting from their mouths also.
I’m prepared to fight but not sure how. These things fly. Jadon and I do not. And now, I remember something horrifying about cursuflies. They feed on human flesh. We may not be able to reach them in the air, but if these creatures are here to feed, then they must come down to where the food is. And that’s what I shout to Jadon. “That’s the only chance we have.”
He looks ill at the suggestion, his complexion gray, but nods.
So, we wait, legs spread apart, swords held back, willing the giant flies to come closer…
One creature hovers before me and studies me with its white eyes. Before it unlocks its jaws, I thrust my sword into its heart, then hop back as green blood bursts and spills onto the dirt.
One cursufly down. Countless to go.
