Page 101 of The Last One
Journeys swift, where true evil lurks.
Men deserve this endless murk.
Hear the echoes of closing breath,
A spell for life, away from death.
Men pray for greatness, men ignore good.
Men court doom, heart hard as wood.
Spiders weave their last silken threads.
A labyrinthine web work spreads.
Cosmic strings of Fate’s final waltz,
The pilgrims fooled by silence false.
—An Elegy by Veril Bairnell the Sapient
30
A new day has come, and I don’t know how long I’ve slept. Veril has left three crabapples on the windowsill, and on the bedroom chair, two clean pairs of black breeches, a gold-colored cloak, gold-colored gloves, two tunics, one white, one black, and a pair of black suede boots that may actually fit.
I smile, and a sigh escapes my lips—my gauze remains pristine. The skin near my hip still pulls if I take deep breaths—but the scabs there as well as the long ones along my leg are close to falling off. Which means my time here in this cottage has ended. I’ll miss these peaceful gardens, the order, the warm hearth and clean quilts. The quiet.
Once dressed, I limp outside, squinting in the light from the daystar. Its warmth, though, feels good against my face.
Notes from Veril’s fife drift from one side of the garden behind the cottage. Jadon has revived the old man’s small, neglected forge on the other side of the garden. Something hard-looking glows orange in the furnace.
Sanding down a piece of wood, Jadon flashes me a smile and tosses the small wooden thing on the table. He meets my eyes and doesn’t turn away. “Ihadto ask those questions.”
What if you’re already in love?
What if Before Kai doesn’t want the same things that Now Kai wants?
“And I’m sorry.” He steps toward me. “I hope you believe that.” When I don’t respond, he sighs. “Please say something.”
Say what? That his rejection made me feel like the last slice of moldy bread? Even thinking about it makes my mouth bunch and my skin burn with embarrassment.
“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to.” Jadon takes another step closer. “You know that I did. It was obvious that I did. I’m not some delicate flower, but the real reason I couldn’t… It’s because…” He pushes out a breath and blurts, “We’d be fucking in that old man’s bed, which…” He shudders.
A laugh bursts from my mouth, and I clamp my hand over my lips.
“That was crass,” he says with a shrug, “but honest.”
“When you say it like that…” I lower my hand, and more laughter escapes.
“Right?” He winces. “And once you think about it, you can’tnotthink about it.”
I snicker, then close my eyes, taking deep breaths.
“Hey,” he whispers, “look at me.”
I do, and my head swims as I meet his sincere gaze.
“Anywhere. In a barn. On a boat. In a garden, maybe this garden.Anywhereexcept—”
