We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from The Last One by Rachel Howzell Hall, a debut romantasy publishing with Red Tower Books on December 3rd.
Thrown into a desolate land of sickness and unnatural beasts, Kai wakes in the woods with no idea who she is or how she got there. All she knows is that if she cannot reach the Sea of Devour, even this hellscape will get worse. But when she sees the village blacksmith fight invaders with unspeakable skill, she decides to accept his offer of help.
Too bad he’s as skilled at annoying her as he is at fighting.
As she searches for answers, Kai only finds more questions, especially regarding the blacksmith who can ignite her body like a flame, then douse it with ice in the next breath.
And no one is what—or who—they appear to be in the kingdom of Vinevridth, including the man whose secrets might be as deadly as the land itself.
The man who just spoke is broad-shouldered and two heads taller than the tallest man in the crowd. His walnut-brown hair is swept back from his forehead. The crowd parts as he strides toward us, his head held high. The whites of his blue eyes aren’t jaundiced like the others’.
He is a gift, a wonderful distraction, a respite for my eyes in this shit-colored town.
I blink at him, forgetting for a second that I’m incredibly pissed off, in pain, and on my knees in the mud. Because, sweet honey in the rock, if this is the man who’s gonna save me, I’d let Johny capture me all over again. Not really. But still…
Gorgeous comes to a halt beside Olivia and rests his fists on his hips. He hasn’t escaped this town’s grunge. There’s a soiled bandage wrapped around his large right hand, and grime dirties the nail beds of his left. If he lived somewhere other than here, he’d be a dashing knight or a powerful sorcerer. Too bad he’s a no one stuck in a shit-colored town. He gives Olivia a hard look, and then he turns to stare at me with his brow furrowed in concern.
“What’s going on here?” Gorgeous asks Olivia.
“Jadon, it’s all a misunderstanding,” she says.
“Just another mess your thievin’ sister made,” Narder sneers. “Okay, Jadon. What wisdom will you impart to us lesser creatures today?”
I lift an eyebrow. Well, Jadon?
Frowning, Jadon rubs a hand along the day-old growth of beard on his square jaw. I can hear his thoughts directed at his sister. “Again with the drama, Olivia? Why do you keep doing this?” Then his eyes return to mine. “Poor woman,” he thinks. “Poor, beautiful woman.” He clears his throat and points at Narder and then points at me. “Help her up, Narder,” he commands.
Narder grumbles as he reluctantly yanks me to my feet.
Jadon pivots to Olivia. “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing,” Olivia says. “I didn’t hurt her. Really, this has all been a terrible misunderstanding and it’s gone too far now.”
“Then tell me about this misunderstanding,” Jadon says, giving me the “I’m here, so you’re okay” nod. His eyes skip over me to make sure that’s true. His gaze lingers on my hips, and one thought breaks past all his other thoughts. “Sweet Supreme. Even with mud everywhere…”
In any other situation, I would’ve wholeheartedly agreed with his assessment and cracked, “Right? I am stunning. Thank you for noticing.” But I’m covered in dirt and chicken feathers, and Narder’s meaty hand is still wrapped around my arm. If Jadon wants a personal tour of my secret garden, he needs to first fix his sister’s mess. And then he needs to find me soap and clean water. Also, a few pastries, a cask of rum, and all my stolen belongings.
“I’m trying to explain, but no one is listening to me,” Olivia grumbles. “It’s really quite simple. See: this poor lady thought I had something of hers, and so we fought, and, well, I tried to run, but she fell on top of me, since it’s so slippery around here with this sudden shower, and isn’t it great that we’re finally getting some rain?”
“Okay, okay,” Narder says, rolling his eyes.
“Olivia,” Jadon warns.
“It’s all a mistake,” Olivia continues. “Really, it is. So I—I mean, Jadon—would like to drop the charges.”
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The Last One
The Last One
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Awed, I tilt my head. “You are nonsense.”
“If you only knew.” Jadon’s glimmering eyes catch mine before focusing on his sister. He’s a few years older than Olivia, maybe twenty-three or twenty-four, but with the gray circles beneath his eyes, it looks like he hasn’t slept ever. How many “misunderstandings” a day does Olivia have that require his diplomacy?
“I’m sorry for this,” Olivia says to Johny and Narder. “Aren’t we just trying to survive? Aren’t we all just keeping our heads above water? Making a wave when we can?”
More nonsense.
“Olivia, you’re being ridiculous again.” Jadon pushes out a breath, then turns to Johny and Narder. “Even though Olivia is…Olivia, she’s right. The crops aren’t feeding the village. No one can afford anything, even food. I mean, really. Look at how pitiful this market is.” He gestures toward the sad collection of wagons set up in the town circle with the vendors still watching us.
On cue, a wheel on a wood cart breaks, sending withered turnips and wrinkled potatoes rolling into the mud.
Jadon shakes his head and looks back at Narder and Johny. “Everyone’s exhausted, which means tempers are running high. But let’s just take a breath and apologize—”
“Apologize?” I interrupt. “She stole my belongings.” I don’t care how handsome he is, he’s not convincing me that I’m wrong nor will I allow him to calm us all down without fixing the problem.
“Fine.” Olivia takes a deep breath, then slowly releases it, just like her brother did. “I apologize…Forest…Girl. I didn’t mean for you to suffer.”
“I still need my belongings,” I say, holding firm.
“What about Freyney’s cart and those broken vials?” Narder asks Jadon, ignoring me.
Oh. Yeah. That. I did knock over a few things before vaulting into the air and landing on top of a thief.
“And what about the public disturbance she’s caused?” Johny asks. “Everybody—especially you—should be celebrating. Cuz we finally captured one of theirs! And you couldn’t have missed that she’s standing here naked.”
Jadon makes a strangled noise in his throat, and by the way his mouth tenses, he already knows he’s about to stumble over every word he wants to say. So, he just says, “Hmm.”
Yeah, he noticed.
Excerpted from The Last One by Rachel Howzell Hall. Reprinted with permission from Red Tower Books, an imprint of Entangled Publishing. All rights reserved.
