Page 99 of The Last One
I run my tongue over my lower lip. “So what kind of armor will I need to make the trip?”
“Luclite,” Veril says, “which is stronger than steel and virtually impossible to work with. Every piece of luclite armor is rare and precious.”
“And how do I get armor made of luclite?” I ask.
“You’re in luck.” Veril taps the top of my head with the rolled-up piece of parchment. “I know a Renrian in Caburh, a hamlet of about four hundred people. Separi and her wife run an inn there. She also makes and enchants luclite armor and jewelry for a few special people.”
“Am I a ‘special people’?” I ask.
Veril wiggles his nose. “You know the answer to that question already, dearest.” He wanders over to the cookie jar and plucks out three treats.
“If you couldn’t reach Mount Devour,” I ask, “what makes you think I can? That I’m worthy?”
“Other than your amulet and visions?” He shrugs. “I don’t know—but you won’t find out sitting in my cottage until the end of forever, will you?”
“How do I reach Caburh, then?” I ask.
After Veril drops two cookies in my hands, he spreads the rolled parchment across the table. It’s an expansive map of Vallendor Realm.
I roll my chair beside him as he points to a drawing of a hashmark in the southwest portion of the map, past Pethorp and Hafeld, at the end of the Duskmoor River.
“This is Caburh,” he says, “and there you’ll find the Broken Hammer, Separi’s inn. And here’s Mount Devour…” His finger drags north, following the edge of a forest, over plains and deserts, past Peria, to the shores of Devour. He taps at a single solid mountain rising from the middle of the sea. “The map doesn’t capture the size and scope of the mountain nor the immensity of the sea. Both are beyond formidable.”
I blow out my cheeks. “This will be quite the journey.”
“Truly,” he admits. “Will it be easy? Certainly not. But itisdoable. Renrian settlers founded Caburh after the Great War. But not many live there all season now. It sits at Duskmoor River, and so the earth is rich and dark, perfect for cultivation and livestock. Merchants and artisans are always traveling and sailing in and out of Caburh. Renrians found it a pleasing site to continue our legacy of scholarship, alchemy, and enchantment. Renrians all over Vallendor convocate there every fifty years to share knowledge. It’s a wonderful time.”
He taps his finger against his chin. “Ten more years until the next one, and by then I’ll have so much to share. That’s when I’m supposed to receive the honorific of Commander of the Canon. There’s a certificate that even says that:Commander of the Canon.My very first.” His lavender eyes sparkle.
“You’ve never received a special designation?” I say, a grin inching across my face. “Someone as learned as you?”
“Not once. As I was saying…” He grows serious again. “Separi makes the mostbeautifulluclite armor, and she will make some for you.”
I study the map. “How long will it take to reach Caburh?”
“A week’s journey on foot, give or take. If we—”
“We?”
“I’m joining you,” he says. “To see my old friend and to protect and sustain you with tonics when you falter—and youwillfalter. It’s a long journey. You will face hardship, both physically and mentally. And I want to be there for you, encouraging you and healing you when needed. Honestly, I can’t be Commander of the Canon stayinghere, can I?”
“You cannot,” I say, joy boosting my spine and spirit. “Okay, so we get the armor from Separi, and then we will journey across the realm to the Sea and Mount of Devour.”
I will falter. Veril just said that. If it’s challenging for me, then how challenging will it be for a two-hundred-year-old Renrian? “I don’t want you to feel that you must join me, Veril. Please don’t think that you’re responsible for me until we’ve traveled the realm in search of my home.”
Veril dips his head. “I know the challenges and I’ll join you still. You are in charge of your destiny, Just Kai, and I am in charge of mine.” He pulls the pipe from his sleeve and studies the map. Discussion over.
“Mount Devour,” I say, running my finger over its jagged representation on the map. “Iknowthat name. I must because it feels like hope, which is strange, since the word ‘devour’ is the opposite of hope. But that’s where I’ll reclaim a piece of me that I can hold on to. I know this is true, Veril.”
“I, too, know this is true, dearest.”
We shake hands, and I say, “Future Commander of the Canon, glad to start this adventure to the end of the realms.”
He shuffles away from the map and over to the hearth. “This calls for a celebratory mug of my most favorite tea.”
I stare at the map, memorizing those towns around the Sea of Devour and estimating the distances between, while Veril selects tea leaves from a shelf. Behind me, water sloshes in the kettle and the pestle grinds against the leaves as I trace my finger along the winding path of a river on the map. I feel the weight of Veril’s eyes on my back…but when I look back over my shoulder, he isn’t looking at me at all, just staring intensely at the mortar and pestle. I return my attention to the map—it can’t be all bad, this journey. Maybe I’ll discover a place where pine trees soar, where the air is so cold, it stings my lungs; a place with snow deep enough to get lost in; a beautiful and quiet and hopefulplace. Maybe I’ll discover this place before acid replaces snow and softness.
“Here you go, Just Kai.” Veril hands me a cup of tea, then carries his own mug to the rocking chair. Steam wafts from the cup to my nose. Cinnamon, cherries, wood.
