Page 176 of The Last One
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Jadon isn’t in his room—his bed is still made. I don’t see his armor or his sword. He didn’t return to my bed, and it seems he didn’t return to his.
Voices drift from downstairs.
Breakfast. Eggs. Bacon. Toast. Something hot to drink. Something cold to drink. More servings wrapped in bundles for our return to the road.
But I smell none of that as I drift down the corridor.
The ever-present nausea returns to roil in my stomach. My shoulder aches, and as I dressed, I saw the plum-colored bruises on both of my shoulders and my left hip and upper arm. Some of me feels too soft, like aging strawberries. I know what this is—and it has nothing to do with Jadon and me being together.
No, this is my deterioration. I need to follow those moths and find my pendant before more parts of me turn tender and sore. The luclite armor helps—its magical properties have strengthened my bones, and I’m not creaky in my joints, at least. Each piece protects those parts of me that I’ll need for my journey to Weeton. But my moths are near, which means my happily ever after is coming, waiting for me at the sea surrounding Mount Devour.Soon.
As I round the corridor’s corner, the voice I heard earlier becomes clear. That’s not Jadon. Nor is it Separi, Ridget, or Philia. My heart sinks when I walk through the door to find Jadon sitting at the table in the center of the inn’s great room. He faces the man who is talking—a man I recognize from Caerno Woods.
Gileon Wake.
Soldiers ring the room, their copper armor bright, their weapons sharp but stowed. Philia, still wearing a dressing gown, huddles behind the bar with Separi. Contempt burns on the women’s faces. Hate shines in their eyes.
“Good morning,” I say, dread now conjoined with sickness. “What’s happening?”
Jadon doesn’t speak. He won’t even meet my eyes, choosing instead to sit there and glare at the tabletop.
Gileon sits up in his chair. “I guess I should answer, since it seems like Jadon here has misplaced his tongueandhis manners. He may have forgotten at least one of them in your bed. I’m guessing…his tongue.” His eyes slide over me, raking my body as though he sees what Jadon did with his tongue last night. Satisfied, he steeples his fingers and slips down in the chair. “I believe you know who I am.”
“I do,” I say with fake pleasantry, then snap my eyes to Jadon. “Hey. We need to go.” Back to Wake again with a too-sweet smile. “Big things to do today.”
Gileon plucks a piece of lint from the front of his linen tunic. He isn’t wearing his armor. With…one, two, three, four…fourteen soldiers surrounding him, he thinks he doesn’t need it.
“You’re the one they call ‘Kai,’ yes?” the prince asks. His blond hair is clean, neat, and parted on the side. His blue eyes are bright but flat. If he had a kinder heart and a decent spirit, he’d be a delightful picture of benevolent wealth. But he isn’t kind nor is he decent—I know this, and I justmetthe man.
There’s no way out of this, and right now, I don’t know how to snap Jadon out of his stupor to escape Wake’s presence. I huff and say, “Fine.” I drop my satchel into the closest chair and direct my attention to Wake. “How did you find us?” I set my hands on my hips, moving my cloak aside.
The guards all startle at my movement. On their toes now.
Good. I need them to see my sword and Veril’s staff without any obstruction.
Gileon yawns, bored. “A little red bird told me. Elyn’s always been incredibly helpful. And then one of my former mage soldiers—a drunken failure—saw you on the road. He couldn’t wait to bring back exciting news.”
So it’s true. Magesareworking for the Wake empire. Was the one we saw on the road from Peria? And…Elyn? Shit. So, I was right about her working with the emperor. What brought them together? What is he giving her?
With his foot, the prince pushes an empty chair toward me. “Please. Sit.” He twists to face the bar. “Separi was just about to take our breakfast order, weren’t you, dear?” He cranes his neck to see the innkeeper.
Separi glares at him. “The kitchen’s closed this morning.”
“That’s too bad,” Gileon says,tsking. “I’m starving. Kai—” He pushes the chair again with his foot. “You’re still welcome—encouraged, even—to sit with us.”
“I’m good right here,” I say. “Thank you.”
My nerves are twinging. Something isn’t right.Jadonisn’t right. He still hasn’t spoken and only glowers, eyes down. He’s dressed, though, in his armor, and Chaos shines from the floor beneath his seat. Did Separi summon him last night as a warning? Is that why he had time to dress?
I try to hear his thoughts but…
I can’t read his thoughts.
What the fuck is happening?
The room sinks into silence except for the ticking of a clock somewhere behind me.
