Page 58 of The Last One
The creature slams into the ground and craters the earth.
Jadon barrels toward it, his blade ready.
The giant cursufly, now amber, writhes in its new grave, and that fire in its belly fades.
Jadon plunges his sword into the belly’s hotspot, and his blade quivers and turns fiery orange, burning up to the hilt, making the pommel glow like hot coal. He jerks back—his leather gloves are smoking.
“Are you okay?” I shout, running toward him. “Where’s Olivia?”
“Don’t know,” he pants. “What did you just do?”
Before I can speak, though, something behind him catches my eye. “What is that?”
“Is there another one?” he asks. “I’m so tired of fighting.”
But there is no new enemy to fight. A group of ragged villagers, including Olivia, are staring at the chapel, which is still engulfed in flames.
Jadon and I edge closer to the group.
They’re staring at the doors of the chapel, which aren’t singed or even covered in ashes. On these impossibly white doors, someone’s used red paint—or blood—to leave a message:
we will help you rebuild
we will give you riches
give us kai
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Those bloodred letters are singed in my mind. Even if I close my eyes, and I keep closing my eyes, the words remain. But I can’t bring myself to move away from the chapel or away from the small group of surviving villagers. Together, we watch the building burn as the doors remain standing.
Olivia watches with one arm around Phily, who hasn’t stopped shaking. With her free hand, she takes mine and looks up to me. “What does she want?”
I shake my head. I take back my tender hands and hide them beneath my armpits. Moments ago, I was awed by my new ability, shooting wind, a confirmation that I’m someone special, despite the minister’s words. But now my ability feels sinister. Are there other mortals who can hurl wind? Is that why Elyn is looking for me? Did I misuse my power in the past? Doesshewant to use my power?
Jadon hasn’t stopped staring at those chapel doors. He looks back at me over his shoulder. No, he’s not looking atme.He’s looking at my hands.
I imagine the same questions are going through his mind.What kind of monstrosity am I? What have I brought to this town?
A few of the surviving townsfolk, including Freyney, Dirty Bonnet, and Johny, think the same thoughts as they scowl at me.
“She’s the cause of this.”
“I should’ve spoken up.”
“I told all of you she was a threat.”
“We have nothing.”
Right now, as their town burns, they don’t care if a day ago, I defended Maford. They don’t care that I defeated the cursuflies. None of that matters. Their town has been destroyed.
It’s not the smoke that’s choking me. It’s not the fire that burns my skin. It’s the collective glare of those who have survived. It’s their simmering hate now boiling over and ready to cook me and feed me to the fires that surround us.
“I need to leave,” I say, my voice low. “I need to get my things from the cottage and go.”
Jadon eyes me. He knows I’m right. “I’ll walk you back.” He starts toward the cottage.
“They’re not that angry,” Olivia says, running ahead of us. But she can’t hear their thoughts.
