Page 198 of The Last One
Not really, but I don’t want to show any kind of weakness, and so I nod. “Yes.”
She squints at me. “Then you remember that we visited Kestau as children all the time. You were there with your mother and my mother, and I ran my last marathon there while a convocation was being held. The convocation turned deadly.”
When I say nothing, she takes a step forward. “Danar Rrivae.”
That name.I startle and lift my head. “The sunabi.”
Elyn says, “Excuse me?”
“Back in Maford,” I say, my eyes darting from one place on the ground to another. “The ones you sent to attack me in the Ealdrehrts’ cottage. One of the sunabi I’d fought was dying, and it said those words, ‘Danar Rrivae,’ before it passed. ‘Danar Rrivae’ and ‘Devour.’”
I look up and around me, my gaze lingering on the toxic green sea. My throat closes as a memory comes into focus—a giant Mera warrior with his long black hair tied back, his bloodred armor, the largest sword I’ve ever seen.
“And when was the last time you saw Danar Rrivae?” Elyn asks.
I shake my head.
“On Kestau,” she says. “He was a senator of that realm. But he grew displeased with his station, with the council, and he thought so much of himself that he believed he should have been able to run Kestau the way he desired. That last convocation, he was ejected but refused to leave the realm. No, he stood on the steps of Kestau’s abbey and tried to force his way into the convocation that had gathered to vote on his punishment for insubordination. He and his followers—Eserime, Dindt, Mera, and mortals—tried to push their way past the sentinels blocking the doors.” She cocks her head. “Danar rammed his sword into the belly of the sentinel captain.”
My jaw tightens, and I shift my eyes back to Devour as memories fade in and out of focus like a mirage. “There was fighting afterward.”
“Yes.”
I hear the sounds of battle, cries, explosions. “He took Kestau and vowed to take the regions especially of his enemies. The Council of High Orders.”
Mutiny.
Elyn nods. “He lost access to the first realm, taking with him scores of warriors and believers of every order. Some served as his spies, influencing their commanders in a way that would benefit Danar Rrivae. That’s when the Great War started—”
A towering burnu, muscles rippling beneath its reddish-gray fur, lumbers toward us with a boulder hoisted high above its head. With a guttural snarl, it hurls the boulder straight at me. I dive to the side just in time, feeling the rush of air as the rock crashes into the mountain wall behind me. The impact sends tremors through the ground, dislodging a cascade of stones from the cliffs above. I thrust out my hand, sending a fierce wind current that slams into the burnu and flings him into a throng of snarling sunabi.
Elyn smiles and nods at me. “Impressive.”
“Fuck you,” I mutter, wandering away from her and scanning the men fighting and dying. Gileon and Jadon still move crisply and in sync. “What does the Great War have to do with you? With me? With—?” I sweep a hand at the vista before us.
Elyn also looks across the battlefield, and a small grin finds its way to her lips. “Danar Rrivae took Kestau. And then he took Fendusk. And then he took Kynne. And he now plans to take this realm.”
I snort. “Let him try. Vallendor is mine.”
“You’ve forgotten: he’s a dangerous asshole, to say the least.”
“And I’m a bigger dangerous asshole,” I say. “If I recall correctly, this lovely prison of mine still belongs to Supreme. Danar Rrivae can’t step one foot on this ground because its prisoner—me—is still Vallendor’s Grand Defender.”
“Correct,” Elyn says.
“So, what?” I peer at her. “Should I be scared? Are you warning me that you’re his captain and you’ve turned on Supreme, too? Is he your boss? What do you want?” My fingers are starting to burn.
Elyn watches my fingers with slitted eyes. “He wasn’t the only agitator. Like Danar, there was another who didn’t seek to rule the realms as commanded by the council. No, this agitator wanted to destroy realms that teetered on the precipice of destruction. Even if a decision hadn’t been made, this agitator thought that they knew best. Ithlon, your home, was one of those troubled realms, but no one dared say that Ithlon—the home of little Kaivara and her mother, Lyra, the former lover of Izariel Megidrail, Lord of Mera, your father, a member of the Council of High Orders—needed to be destroyed.”
My nostrils flare, and a lump forms in my throat. “I may be quick-tempered and rash at times, but I’d never willfully destroy Ithlon.”
“Correct,” Elyn says, coming to stand beside me. “But two members of your battalion were spies of Danar. High-ranking Mera who served as your closest confidantes. You knew Ithlon was problematic, but you refused to kill your family. So the generals promised to whisk Lyra and your kin to safe places throughout the realm. You still resisted, but they appeased that part of you needing recognition. They told you that making such a tough and just decision to destroy Ithlon guaranteed your future on the Council, taking your father’s place once he ascended. Believing that your family had been taken somewhere safe, you launched the destruction of Ithlon.”
She chuckles without humor. “But they lied to you, Kai. Your mother was still on Ithlon when you commanded the first fiery star to fall from the sky and into the Glass Sea. Danar not only took Ithlon—he also destroyed Lyra, your mother. You did exactly what Danar wanted.”
Rage burns through my body, narrowing my vision, tinting the world around me. My heart clenches with horror and disbelief as fragmented memories claw their way to the surface of my consciousness.Screams. Pleas. The crackle of destruction. My blood chills as shadows creep across my heart.Iwas the fire that destroyed my world. Tears blur my vision as this devastating truth—a truth I can’t fully recall—crushes every opinion I have of myself. This anguish now gnaws at my soul—this pain is real. The knowledge that I’m adrift in a sea of remorse and that I am not me—that’s real, too.
Three of the emperor’s men, their tunics grimy with blood and gore, charge at Elyn and me with pikes outstretched. I focus on the soldier to my right—letting out a fierce growl, I knock the pole from his grip, sweep his legs out from under him, and drive his own weapon through his neck.
