The Myths of Ophelia (The Curse of Ophelia #4)

Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Malakai

The door on Ezalia’s commander’s ship swung shut behind me, a soft thud muddled by the conversation echoing from the deck and the wind out at sea.

The Seawatcher Chancellor was journeying back to the capital with her family, but she’d arranged transport for us to get from the outposts to the mainland a few days ago. Pink and orange streaked the sky, crisp turquoise waves reflecting the sunset against the rocking ship. I breathed in the briny air, and my chest unknotted, a heavy sense having settled in it ever since Cypherion returned.

“Malakai!” Ophelia said, hurrying down the stairs from the quarter deck. “We’re docking in Starsearcher Territory in a couple hours, and I need a favor, if you’re able.”

“What is it?” I asked. Low laughter echoed from the forecastle. I almost turned on instinct, knowing Mila was waiting to get a training session in. Truthfully, our daily workouts were one of the few things keeping my head clear.

“Mila mentioned she’d written to Cyren,” Ophelia began. The Starsearcher General had been in touch. We’d shared what we could about Vale’s situation, seeing if they had any insight as to what to expect with Titus. “And that they wanted to speak in person. Would you two be able to meet them tonight?”

“Should be,” I answered with a shrug. “They’re only a little way out of the town we’re staying in, right?”

Ophelia nodded. “Thank you,” she said, crossing her arms. One of Valyrie’s scrolls dangled from her fingers, and a breeze danced across the back of my neck. My hand twitched toward my sword, whispers flitting through my mind. I shook my head, trying to focus on what Ophelia was saying. “I’d go myself but I need to see Sapphire and the khrysaor before Jezebel flies to pick up Barrett, Dax, and Celissia.”

The prince had emphatically agreed to help and took the last few days of our travel to prepare the council for his departure.

“She and Erista are still leaving tonight?”

Ophelia nodded. “Jezebel can’t wait, given how horribly seasick she’s gotten on this journey.” I laughed, only because Jez was sure to let us all know how miserable she found traveling by boat, bemoaning the entire trip. “They’ll wait until the middle of the night, likely. Depends on the weather. But they’ll be there and back in a few days.”

“Those things still freak me out,” I muttered, the breeze making me shiver again.

“Those things?” Ophelia gasped.

“The khrysaor ,” I corrected before I had an angry Alabath on my hands. “They’re unnatural.”

“Perhaps they’re more natural than the rest of us,” she challenged. “They were here first after all.”

Not liking that argument, I changed the subject. “Mila and I will take care of everything with Cyren.”

“Thank you,” Ophelia said, and the smile she gave me was so genuine and carefree, it almost felt like we were younger versions of ourselves, and I’d done something as simple as hand her a book in school. She lifted the scroll, and whispering laughter trickled through my ears. “I have to get this to Tolek and Mora.”

As she walked away, a small peel of twinkling secrets raised the hushed murmurs, as if trying to stir something awake. I batted them away, heading toward the forecastle where Mila waited.

After we docked, I helped Cypherion and Lyria with a bit of route planning for the next day’s journey, then I headed for the stables. Mila was nearly done saddling Ombratta and her own sand-colored, white-maned mare, Luna. Creeping up behind her, I listened to her soothing coos as she muttered to her warrior horse.

Then, I pinched her waist.

“Spirits!” She jumped, spinning around, hand flying toward the swords at her back. But before she grabbed one, I gripped her wrist above her head. “Malakai!” she scolded as her heart pounded.

“Got to have quicker reflexes, General,” I teased, nodding to where I had her caught.

Her eyes flicked up, her other hand shooting for my own, but I was faster. I snatched that wrist as well, and with both captured, I spun us away from Luna and pressed Mila against the flimsy wooden wall of the stable.

“Never thought I’d be stealthy enough to sneak up on you,” I whispered.

“Apparently I’m becoming rusty in my time off.” She tugged at her wrists.

“Better fix that.”

Mila tilted her chin so her lips nearly brushed mine. Fuck, did we really have to go meet Cyren right now?

As I leaned closer, she twisted her leg around the back of my knee and sent me crashing to the ground. Mila landed gracefully on top of me, straddling my hips, my hands pinned on either side of my head.

“Don’t get distracted, Warrior Prince,” she said, voice sultry.

“I don’t know,” I challenged, nodding at how she was positioned. “I don’t mind this.”

With a roll of her hips that nearly had me groaning, Mila laughed.

But I wasn’t joking.

Leaning up, I caught her lips with mine. She sank into me immediately, like our bodies were made to be fused together.

Mila released my wrist, one hand curling into my hair and tugging gently. Angels, the sensation went straight to my cock. I wrenched my other hand from her grasp and wrapped my arms around her, flipping us so I was above her. But it still wasn’t enough—none of it ever was.

As I brushed my tongue against hers, a delicate, enticing moan slipped up her throat. I needed her closer—wanted to have all of these easygoing, unburdened moments with Mila. She seemed to agree, fisting my leathers. My hips rolled against hers, her legs bracketing my waist.

Fuck, we were supposed to be doing something here weren’t we?

I bit down on her bottom lip, and she gasped in a way that threatened to undo me. I wanted to repeat that bite on other parts of her body and see what sounds she made. To worship each scar she bore and finally make her come so hard she forgot her own name?—

Something hit the back of my head, and twin disgruntled huffs had us breaking apart, panting.

Ombratta and Luna looked down at us, casting us the most judgmental glares I’d ever seen.

“Damn warrior horses, had to be so smart?” I muttered, dropping my forehead to Mila’s as I caught my breath. I brushed her hair behind her ear, pulling out a stray stalk of hay and studying those icy-blue eyes.

“Quite the inconvenience at times,” she laughed, her words throaty. Spirits, even her voice was the best thing I’d ever heard. If I hadn’t promised the others we’d go on this outing, I’d keep her here forever.

“Back at the isle,” I said, and nerves rattled through me, “you promised me tomorrow.”

I never got that tomorrow, though, distracted with everything that had unfolded with Cypherion.

She raised a brow, asking hesitantly, “Another tomorrow?”

“You can have every tomorrow, Mila. I’m not going anywhere.”

As many tomorrows as she needed. They were all hers now.

“Good to see you again,” I said to Cyren, shaking their hand as we met outside the town’s market.

Given that it was such a small village, it hadn’t been hard to find. It wasn’t busy at this hour either, but Starsearchers milled about, closing up shop or visiting with friends. The white stone buildings and array of blue glass windows soaked up the starlight, the streets lined with silver sconces and cascading waterfalls of greenery.

“You, too,” the Starsearcher said, adding “General,” as they shook Mila’s hand.

“How was the ride down?” Mila asked, inclining her head. Together, we strolled through the market, picking up supplies for the next few days of travel. We’d be camping as we passed major cities to avoid the busiest parts of the territory. Keeping out of Titus’s network.

“It was quick,” Cyren said. “I was only an hour east of here.” Their long, dark hair was braided around their head so similar to when we were at the war front, but instead of battle leathers, they wore the sweeping silk robes some Starsearchers preferred. The fabric slithered over the cobblestones as we walked, melting into the low hum of business.

“No problems, then?” I ducked into a bakery stall and started loading their leftover loaves from the day into a bag.

“Not for me, no.”

I paused, looking at the Starsearcher. “Not for you?”

“The friend I stayed with lives near a dense region of jungle. They harvest a lot of fruit, send it off to other territories, that sort of work. Supposedly, when so many were off fighting in the war, they were having problems with their produce.”

“What kind of problems?” I thought back to the few times I’d been in Bodymelder Territory recently. Many of their crops were damaged, too.

But Cyren said, “Not like you’re thinking. Not the quakes we felt in the mountains during the war or the unseasonable weather.” They swallowed, and I paid the baker, following them to the next stall. “It’s going to sound crazy, but they swore it was birds .”

“Birds?” Mila tilted her head, weighing a bag of apples in her hands.

“Huge ones. A breed never seen before, at least in that region.”

“And they, what?” I asked. “Ate the fruit?”

“Devoured it all,” Cyren answered gravely. “Knocked down the trees. Ones that stood for centuries, providing for nearby markets.”

Really large birds, then. A shiver spread over my skin, akin to the one I’d felt around the scrolls’ whispering voices.

Mila and I exchanged a glance, but it was clear neither of us knew what to say, so we walked on.

Cyren filled us in on the rest of their leave. When they were done, they asked in a whisper, as if they didn’t even want the stars to hear, “What of Vale?”

I sighed. “She’s with Titus.”

“Willingly?” Cyren asked.

I didn’t answer. Mila fidgeted beside me.

Cyren swore beneath their breath, and I pulled them and Mila into a corner of the market. “Listen, Cyren, can you tell us what she might be facing?”

They worried the silk trim of their robe.

I continued, “Please, General. Cypherion isn’t going to rest until we rescue her—none of us are—so anything you know might help.”

“I don’t know what the chancellor’s immediate plans are, but I was surprised when his apprentice showed up with Ophelia at the war camp. Titus always kept her close because he didn’t want others to know.”

“To know what?” I implored.

Cyren said, “To know her. You can feel the power radiating off her.”

“Feel it?”

“Starsearchers can. It’s like my Fate tie—the alignment to one of the Fates that allows me to read the stars—calls to her. Like it wants to meld with hers.”

“What would cause that?” Mila asked.

“A very strong sort of magic,” Cyren whispered. “And if Titus has her in his grasp, I don’t see a world in which he lets her go. Not now that others will know of her power.”

“And Titus has none,” I breathed.

Cyren’s eyes widened. “What?”

Fuck . I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to say that. Too late now. “Titus revealed to Cypherion that his Fate tie doesn’t grant him any readings.”

Cyren’s jaw ground, eyes boring into us with urgency. “You need to get that girl away from him before Titus can use her anymore.”

Mila stiffened at the warning in the general’s voice, toying with her wrist cuffs. I braced a hand at her back.

“We will,” I swore.

“Soon.” Cyren looked between us. “A Starsearcher without a connection to the Fates is bound to become volatile.”

Because power was a weapon that spawned one of the most dangerous things of all: greed.

“Can you read anything of them?” Mila asked, voice wavering.

“I’ve been looking for Vale and for the Angel emblem, but that’s all been difficult to find.” Cyren shook their head. “It’s impossible to read an Angel or higher power, but her…I should be able to see her.”

“Will you look for Titus, too?”

They nodded. “First thing tonight when I return. And I’ll continue until you find her.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Write to us if you find anything.”

“I will.”

The inn Ezalia had arranged for us to stay in wasn’t far from the market on horseback, but the ride back was long enough that Mila and I were isolated in a way I was beginning to crave when she was involved.

“How do you feel about Cypherion?” Mila asked as Ombratta and Luna strolled beside each other.

Cypherion. My brother by choice turned cousin by blood. The topic I’d avoided talking about since we found out.

“You waited until I had no way to escape to ask, didn’t you?” I accused. When Mila shrugged innocently, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Doesn’t really matter how I feel, does it?”

“Humor me,” she said with a soft smile.

I sighed. “I wish I’d known, but at the same time, I’m glad I didn’t. I wouldn’t have felt right being the one to tell him, but I also wouldn’t have been able to keep it from him.” Not that the way he found out had been any better. I may not be the one prophesied to end any fae royal bloodline, but I was tempted to after the queen told him so carelessly. “I wish he had known, though. That he wasn’t finding out now, amid this mess with Vale.”

“It’s poor timing,” Mila agreed.

“I don’t think he’ll really process this news until he gets her back,” I said. He only had one focus right now, and a part of me was sure he was using it as a distraction. It would be easier to process with Vale at his side.

“He seems to have accepted his role as Second, though.”

“He has, and I’m happy that shift happened before he found out.”

Mila nodded. “It’s better he grew into it on his own.”

“It is.”

We were silent for a few moments. Then, since I seemed to already be talking about things I’d tried to avoid, I admitted, “I opened a new journal of Lucidius’s last night on the ship.”

Mila smiled over her shoulder at me. “I know,” she said. My brows rose. “I wasn’t asleep.”

“Spirits,” I grumbled. I’d been in the cabin she was sharing with Lyria late into the night, the commander and Mila gossiping until they fell asleep while I read—or so I’d thought.

She laughed, and the sound had me smiling, too. “What was that one about?”

“Starsearchers.”

Mila considered, scanning the sky. “Have I told you I was obsessed with constellations as a child?”

I shook my head, but didn’t comment on the abrupt shift of conversation.

“I always detested school, but I loved learning.” She laughed as our horses ambled down the path. “I just didn’t like others telling me what I had to learn. I would sit in lessons and read books beneath the table. Usually about stars and the myths surrounding them.”

“Always so headstrong,” I muttered, and Mila scoffed.

Then, her voice sobered. “When I was in that cage,” she said, and my spine stiffened, “I watched the stars. Told myself to look up and remember what I was fighting to get back to.” She swallowed, adding softly almost as an afterthought, “I hope Vale has someone to look to.”

Angels, I fucking hoped so, too. I knew how torturous that sort of isolation was, regardless of anything else she was enduring. Hating the way that made me feel—and the way it dimmed Mila’s voice—I nudged Ombratta closer to Luna. “Tell me about the constellations you love so much.”

She brightened. “What do you want to know?”

“I want everything.” Not only the stars above, but every damn piece of her. Because every hint of Mila I got only snared me further, and I’d spend every tomorrow learning the rest.

Mila laughed, the worries of moments before easing, but I wasn’t sure if she caught onto my innuendo. “Malakai there are eons worth of information I could give you. Thousands of star maps and harrowing tales behind the legends. Everything might take some time.”

With the way her cheeks tinged pink at the end of that sentence, maybe she did know what I meant.

“Then start at home. Start with the warriors.”

And she did. As we found a trail that offered an unimpeded view of the sky, Mila began with the story of how the warrior constellations were placed one by one, by an all-powerful hand, the being rearranging the heavens for our Angels.

I knew of the constellations already—had them drilled into my head at a young age both in school and in the supplemental lessons I took in preparation for running our clan—but hearing Mila talk about them with such fascination was like learning them for the first time.

When told in her voice, the stories carried more magic than any rendition I’d ever heard.

Soon, the world was fading around us. Like the cavernous sky was a dome, carving out this patch between the cyphers for our total isolation, with a myriad of glimmering specks above.

The coos of birds and echoing gusts of wind faded. Sharp navy edges of the sky stretched down, giving the illusion of cutting off the rest of the world. It almost felt as if the stars were shifting and speeding, rearranging themselves in time with Mila’s voice. Or perhaps the exhaustion was hitting me, combined with her lulling tone and Ombratta’s pace.

“And Ptholenix’s—the firebird,” Mila said, reaching the sixth of the Prime Warrior constellations, “is said to burn a ferocious orange on select days every few decades, though few have truly seen it.”

“That’s fitting,” I answered.

“It is,” Mila said, her voice distant. My eyes snapped to her. Her gaze roved the stars, like she was intent on finding something.

“What is it?” I asked, alert. Screeches of impossibly large birds echoed in my imagination.

“Ptholenix’s constellation is the firebird,” Mila mused. “And Thorn’s is the crown.”

“Damien’s is the sword.” I shrugged.

“Spirits, Malakai,” she gasped. “The answers are right here!”

“What answers?” I asked.

Tightening her knees against Luna’s sides, she looked pointedly at me. “Are you up for a fast ride back?”