Page 110 of The Last One
Veril passes me the longsword.
I tighten my grip around her handle and check that Little Lava is nestled in my ankle sheath.
Jadon reaches for the doorknob.
Bam! Bam!
Shit. That creaking sends shivers down my spine. Sounds like they’ve almost made it through the walls. We have to act now.
I focus on breathing and remind myself just how strong I am, that I survived the burnu attack even if it beat me up first.I’m here. I’m here.
“Breathe, Kai,” Jadon whispers.
“Yeah, yeah.” My hands burn hot. Fury’s pommel crackles in my grip.
Breathe-breathe-breathe…
“Let’s go,” I say, steeling myself for what lies ahead.
Jadon throws open the door, and immediately I stutter-step, caught off guard by the stench of shit, burning leather, and bile.NowI remember fighting these things.
The sky is dark, the daystar hidden behind a swarm of battabies circling high above the forest canopy. Only a few creatures rip through the trees to terrorize Veril’s cottage. My mind races and my fear grows as I realize that killing the battabies down here makes no difference—there would be scores of them left to finish the job.
“Let’s move away from the cottage,” I shout, just as a battaby spies Jadon and dives toward him.
Jadon swings Chaos and the battaby is split in two, dead before it finishes its first shriek.
Another creature watches us but doesn’t strike. As we move away from the cottage, another battaby joins, then another, circling, studying.
“Ready?” I whisper.
Jadon says, “Yep.”
Veril’s incantation unfurls across my mind, and the power of his words courses through me.Abyss…beseech…triumph…
The battaby dives. Right as the creature’s talons near my head, I pivot and swing. Fury slices across the battaby’s neck with no resistance.
The second beast takes a dive, and I pivot in the opposite direction. I swing Fury again, and the battaby crashes to the now-mucky dirt.
I dare to smile, but the threat is far from over.
The other battabies hang high, shrieking as though they’re communicating with one another. Jadon and I wince in pain from the sound. One battaby stays low, fluttering away and then fluttering close—but never close enough to be struck by our swords.
Should I use my wind now?
Or should I wait for them to come closer?
If I use my wind now and it doesn’t touch them, then they may learn that I’m limited, which means that they can strategize.
The cauldron of battabies lifts higher than before, dipping in and out of thin clouds, until the group clears the sky. One battaby remains behind, bobbing above us.
“We can’t kill him,” Jadon says, “not if we’re trying to find the roost.”
“You’re right,” I agree. “Look at its mouth.”
A bright orange wattle, like a rooster’s.
“At least it will be easier to see him,” I say.
