Page 17 of The Last One
“What does it signify?”
“The three sculls up top represent man in his three states: baby, adult, old. The two sculls beneath represent animals and nature. Dogs, bears, mountains, lakes. The circle in the middle is the emperor, supposedly. And the big scull at the base, holding everything up, is Supreme. Naturally.” She pauses, takes a breath, then continues. “You’ve heard the fable. Excuse me, I mean, the very true account of the realm’s very beginnings, yes?”
I shake my head. “No.”
Confused, she squints at me. “Where the heck are you from, then? Everyone everywhere has heard the story.” When I don’t respond, she shrugs. “Well, according to Emperor Wake…” She dramatically clears her throat. “In the beginning of the world, Syrus Wake was born, the first child of the original man and woman. And because he is the long-living, immortal firstborn of the first race, he is to be worshipped.”
She glances at me, clearly enjoying her role of storyteller. “Not only that, he claims that the entire realm of Vallendor is his birthright, and so he has declared that, as emperor, he is the center of the colure and that his empire of Brithellum—which is north of here—is the holiest place in the entire realm. All those who disagree, including the kings and queens of the still-free provinces across Vallendor, are usurpers, and they must be defeated and the people converted.”
Olivia pauses, brushes some stray hairs from her forehead, then adds, “Not one ruler believes this, by the way. Maford falls under the reign of the Vinevridth province, ruled by King Exley, and he refuses to bend the knee. Most people here in Maford don’t believe the emperor is really Supreme, but there are a few who do, and they’re powerful. Father Knete, he’s a true believer, as is the mayor. I’m sure there are other spies around.”
She flicks her hand at the colure. “You see these everywhere so that Maford can exist in peace so that if—when—Wake’s men come, they might not be as violent.”
“So you’re surrendering to Wake before he even arrives?” I ask, frowning.
I can’t imagine refusing to fight for what I believe in, and giving up before the fight even begins. How pitiful is that?
“We’re just a hundred or so people,” Olivia says, looking slightly embarrassed. “Very hungry and sick people. We can’t defend ourselves from an army as big as Wake’s. He’s unmatched in might.”
I narrow my eyes. “So believe in me or die?”
“Yes.”
“And he thinks that divine power works like that? That someone’s fear of dying is better than someone choosing to believe?”
She snorts. “You’re asking questions like you’re brand new to Vallendor.”
My face flushes. I don’t remember any of this, so, yeah, in a sense, I am brand new. “I just wanna know what kind of town I’m in.”
“Ah,” she says, squinting at me. “Any more questions?”
“Before Wake declared himself the center of the colure,” I say, “what did the colure represent?”
Olivia shakes her head. “The colure didn’t represent anything if you chose not to believe. People did their own thing. Prayed to whoever they wanted to pray to.” She moves closer to me and whispers, “Some people who shall go unnamed still have other talismans up. Blue eyes, carved pieces of ivory, small paintings, other gods. You know, the goddess of rain and the god of bountiful crops and all that. Those charms don’t work, either. Probably because people hide them in their attics or the granary. They’d be called primitives and heathens, children of the Vile. The Vile One is the ultimate evil being who wants to destroy all of what Supreme has created.”
I ask, “How do you know about paintings and icons and all that if they’re being hidden?”
“Because I make dresses,” she says with a shrug. “I visit people in their homes. Since I’m handy with a needle and thread, they ask me to also repair rugs and curtains. A few times, I’ve stitched up a gash on someone’s leg. In those kinds of situations, though, people forget to hide their altars. And to be perfectly honest, what others believe is none of my business.”
I rub my chin, thinking, then point to the colure above the barn door. “So, do you and your brother think that’s bullshit or…?”
Olivia arches an eyebrow. “Of course, we believe that the emperor is Supreme.” She holds my gaze and thinks,“What if she’s a spy from Brithellum?”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” I say to assuage her suspicion. “I obviously don’t know the first thing about Wake. Don’t care much for what I’ve heard.”
Olivia clears her throat, and her eyes drift behind me. “Brother, you’re back. Are you still angry?”
Jadon joins us holding a stack of quilts. “I’m exhausted, Olivia. This could’ve gone worse than it did. What would’ve happened to her if I was in Pethorp?”
“Thank you for your concern,” I say, my throat tightening at his sincere worry, “and for coming to my aid. I do appreciate it.”
“Yeah, of course,” he says, meeting my gaze. “It was the right thing to do. I would’ve done it for…” He looks away. He doesn’t say “anyone”because he knows that’s not true. I don’t even have to read his mind to know that he’s trying not to think about me the way I know he wants to think about me.
Whatever he needs to do to walk straight and focus.
“Let’s get you settled.” He beckons me to follow him into the barn.
I can’t help but appreciate how his arms, shoulders, and back flex as he climbs the ladder to the loft with those clean, soft quilts.
