Page 21 of The Last One
“Is there anyone in Maford who can do that?”
She laughs. “Nope. All the sages left this town ages ago. Jadon may have an idea. We’ll ask him over dinner.”
My muscles ease now that I have a few, very real possibilities.
Olivia tugs at the hem of my borrowed dress. “Jadon and I will be leaving Maford very soon and settling in Vinevridth next. There’s no sickness in the kingdom city. And there’s more food. Cleaner water. He’ll start another forge, and I’ll open a shop—I’ll have you know that you’re wearing an original design. Soon, I’ll be known throughout the kingdom for my dresses, and I’ll dress all the fancy royals in O.E.C. originals—that’s Olivia Ealdrehrt Creation.”
I trace a finger over the tight, even stitches on the sleeve cuff. “I’m sure you will.” Really, the needlework in this dress is impressive. Customers would probably even sit through her winding monologues to wear dresses this well-made.
“I’ll clothe regular people, too,” Olivia continues, her expression soft and dreamy, “but the rich… They’ll be able to introduce me to merchants who sell silks as soft as butter. And they’ll commission gowns decorated with the finest jewels in the realm. You know, the wealthy have so much stuff they don’t need, they practically toss their jewels out with their bathwater. So why not use them to fancy up a gown? Wouldn’t that be amazing?”
She circles me and clucks her tongue. “Maybe you wouldn’t be surprised by what the wealthy do. Maybe you already know about that kind of life. Because maybe you’re from one of those fancy places and not some mountain town like Chesterby. Maybe even a different empire. Like Brithellum—I can see you there with your great taste in clothes and…” She clicks her teeth and bites her upper lip before saying, “Okay, don’t take this the wrong way.”
I steel myself for whatever offensive thing she’s about to say.
“But…whatareyou?” She studies me, eyes narrowed. “Half human and half what?”
My belly fills with prickly heat, and the breath from my nostrils singes my top lip. My words flow like slow lava across my tongue. “What kind of question isthat?”
“Because,” Olivia continues, oblivious to my anger, “your eyes are this really weird gold. And then your hair. What coloristhat? Seriously, it just looksimpossible.” Olivia must not sense the danger she’s in, because she reaches out to touch my impossible hair.
I swat her hand.
She hisses with pain. “Damn!Why’d you hit me?”
“Don’teverdo that,” I say, finger in her face.
Wide-eyed, she nods, then goes back to observing me with a probing gaze.
But I take a breath and ask myself the same question. I can hear the thoughts of people, and I somehow survived a fall from the sky. Maybe thatdoesmean I’m more than human.
“Or maybe…” Olivia fluffs out the skirt of the blue dress and yanks away another loose string. “Johny kept calling you ‘Dashmala,’ but you don’t have those bone things on the sides of your face. Maybe you’re a mage-in-training. You look like you’re around my age. You’re what, twenty? Twenty-one? Definitely too young to be a full-on sorceress.”
It’s a good suggestion, and probably closer to the truth than me being inhuman in some way. Because if I were more than human, why am I here? Why is my body so weak? That woman with the silvery glow saw something in me and gifted me with hearing the thoughts of others. I doubt she’d give that ability to just anyone. Maybesheknows what the elks mean.
I need to find her.
“It’s a good suggestion,” I say, “me being a mage.”
Olivia’s skin flushes, and she jams her lips together. “If you are,” she whispers, “you can’t tellanyone. Don’t suggest it. Don’t evensaythe word ‘magic’ or ‘mage’ or anything that would suggest such an idea. You’re safer being a barbarian than a mage. The mayor and Father Knete forced all the magic-makers out of Maford, never to be seen again, including the sage who could’ve told you about the elks and circles. I’m being very serious right now. Please don’t say anything. You’re already in trouble.”
Pulse racing, I nod and say, “Okay.” I take off the blue dress and pass it to Olivia to make her adjustments. Then I pull on Jadon’s old tunic.
As I follow Olivia to the front of the barn, I cast my eyes toward the rest of drought-choked Maford where the sky has forgotten how to cry—at least until I arrived. Perhaps I should forgive this place. Thirst can turn men into monsters, with every act of kindness received with hostility, scrutinized for the dagger hidden beneath the thoughtfulness.
Are the towns beyond this place just as dry, just as angry?
Olivia dashes into the cottage to finish preparing dinner just as Jadon returns to the barn from Gery’s with a new bale of hay. Seeing me again, he double takes and says, “Oh. Hey.” His eyes linger on his brown tunic now on my body.
I blush and hold out my arms. “Hope you don’t mind. Olivia loaned it to me—”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t mind at all. Looks better on you anyway.” He smiles and continues tidying up the space.
Right as I find a clean bale of hay to sit on, I catch my reflection in a cracked mirror placed near the barn door. The world spins, and my mind pops.There I am!My hair is a cloud of mulberry-sapphire-blue and cinnamon-hued curls. No wonder Olivia’s fascinated.
My reflection in the mirror blurs for a moment, and my brain hums. I blink, concentrating on my image as it gradually comes back into focus along with a hard truth.
“My name is Kai.” My voice sounds distant in my still-fuzzy brain.
