Page 62 of The Last One
I crawl over and pluck one of the horns from the drying blood.
Olivia is curious enough to slink closer.
I offer her a horn, and I offer Jadon a horn. I take two.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Olivia asks, rolling the horn between her fingers.
“Keep it for good luck,” Jadon says, then turns to me. “Your hands. Wind or something shoots from them. How?”
Olivia pales with fear. “Magic?”
“I don’t know if that’s the right word,” I say, “but I can’t call it anything else.” I meet Olivia’s eyes. “You told me that magic has been banished from the towns. And so far, I’ve met no one else who can do what I can. And now, I’m thinking.” I dip into silence, letting my creaking brain do its job. “If mages have been pushed to the ends of the realm, and people who look like me, who named me after its deity, are in Devour, maybe that’s where I need to go.”
She’ll turn on you just like she’s turned on her family, on me.Elyn said that tonight.
Make amends.Sybel told me that days ago.
I slowly stand. “I need to go to the Sea of Devour.”
“You’re not serious, are you?” Jadon asks. “That’s really,reallyfar. You don’t know how dangerous it is—or even how to get there—”
“No, I don’t.” I straighten my shoulders. “But the sage you mentioned, the one who was kicked out of Maford. He’d know. Where would this sage be? Or any other sages? I need to talk to someone with a deep understanding of Vallendor and its peoples.”
“Outside of Pethorp,” Jadon says. “But I don’t know for sure.”
“I’ll find him,” I say with a nod.
“My book!” Olivia gasps. “It might help you. It had that story about Kaivara. It might have something else. I’ll go get it!” She turns to leave.
“And my clothes,” I shout after her. “I don’t care if they’re damp, if they’re dirty, I need them. Understand?”
Olivia nods, then darts out of the pantry door.
“How do I get to Pethorp?” I ask.
Jadon crosses the room and opens the wardrobe doors. He grabs two tunics, tosses me the white one, keeps the black one. “It’s west of here. We can make it in two days.” He pulls off his filthy shirt. His chest is hard, defined by fighting and forging. Pearly scars crisscross his ribs, like sutures keeping him whole. His belt buckle hangs low, his hip bones exposed and…and…
My pulse bangs from my temples to my toes, tiny explosions everywhere. “You’re coming with me?” I ask, dizzy now as he slips the clean tunic over his head.
“I told you I would.” He pauses, and our gazes lock. “I told you I’d help you find yourself, Kai, and I meant it.”
Come with me.
No.
I exhale, my heart swelling with relief, with hope, withwant.“Glad to hear that.”
Jadon continues to stare, and I stare right back. Then his brow furrows and he tilts his head, studying my left shoulder.
“What?” I peek over my shoulder but see nothing.
He reaches toward me but stops before his fingers touch my skin, which vibrates now beneath his hovering hand. “You have a tattoo.”
“I do? What does it look like?”
He bends to study the marking more, and his breath warms my skin.
My knees weaken, his warmth so delicious that I close my eyes to enjoy it.
