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

Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Ophelia

“What’s this part say?” I asked, leaning across Tolek’s lap to point to a section of the scroll he was currently reading.

We’d been traveling on horseback today—I was riding Sapphire with everyone since we were in a secluded stretch of jungle and felt it safe to let her walk with us—and we stopped for lunch around midday. Tolek and I found a stream to wash up in, eating and resting on the piled rocks along the bank, slick from the spray of the current. Roots tangled down the sloping edge, disappearing under the babbling waterfalls.

“That part gets into the consequences and awards of the races,” Tolek explained. “Below ground where the dead rest…”

“Where the dead rest,” I considered, scanning the trees around us.

Tolek had been picking apart these scrolls since the day we left the outposts, using every available moment to translate Endasi with Mora, from which he and I were trying to build theories of what the next trial could contain.

The fae female seemed to have a natural talent for spotting patterns, so she’d been reading over the coded scroll in between our travels. Though she didn’t speak Endasi, she and Tolek established a system. She would note down what she found, and once Tolek got through the other two scrolls, they’d shift focus to that one. No use wasting time fixating on the hardest one.

Tolek had picked through the first scroll about Valyrie’s final reading while on the ship. Though it was interesting, we didn’t think it held the answer to the Starsearcher emblem.

“Explain it from the beginning,” I said. My hair brushed across his bare chest as I leaned back and his hand dropped to my leg. “The purpose of the races was…”

“For Valyrie to determine her fiercest warriors, the ones who received the honor of lining her cabal. They became her sworn protectors, daring advisors, and cherished friends.”

I scoffed, eyes on the stream slipping across the stones. “Cherished friends, though many died to get there.”

“Those ones weren’t worthy,” he said, brushing his thumb absently over my knee as he studied the ancient words. “According to the Angel. From what I can infer, she seemed to be ruthless. She barely knew the dozens of warriors who entered their names for the races before the games began. If they died, it meant little to her at that point.”

Higher powers, always so careless of the lives they toyed with. Anger wound through me at the thought.

“What was the first stage of the races?”

“Duels,” Tolek answered. “Physical battle first, then they moved on to one of wits.”

I tilted my head. “Which was?”

“Poison. Deciphering what cups were deadly before the Angel drank them.”

“Angels can’t be poisoned.”

“No longer. But before the Ascension—before they were truly flooded with almighty power—they were part mortal. I assume they were more fallible then.”

A drop of poison would not likely have affected an Angel as it would have a mere warrior or human, but a stronger dose? Even the almighty could have feared it.

“Spirits, I hope this trial doesn’t involve poison.” I shivered. Tol’s grip on my knee tightened, and I stifled my fear at the possibility. “How did it work?”

“The remaining thirty from the duel were each given a table of chalices and told to assess them. It was not only a test of their knowledge and precautionary thinking, but a way for the Prime Warrior to observe their cunning in the face of a timed challenge.” Tolek blew out a breath. “It was the first time Valyrie saw them unmasked. Heard their voices.”

“That’s rather sad.”

“Ruthless, as I said.”

I leaned forward again, looking at the scroll as if I’d be able to interpret it. “How many progressed from that game?”

Tolek scanned the notes in his journal. “However many selected the correct cups.”

And those who chose wrong…

I couldn’t harp on it. Didn’t have time to. “What was the final race?”

Tolek looked at me with a creased brow, as if seeing right through the defenses I was putting up, but he continued, “It doesn’t say, but we do know where it was and what it led to. Which brings us back to…”

He tapped the paragraph I’d initially asked about.

“Below ground where the dead rest,” I muttered, finger landing next to his on the worn parchment.

Tol nodded, dragging my hand along the line as he translated. “Only twelve would subsist the catacomb challenge, and with their survival, they forged an unending commitment to the Prime.”

For a breath, Angellight shimmered across my skin, its iridescence subtle in the jungle but burning through my spirit, tugging insistently at my gut.

“That’s where it has to be.” My gaze snapped up to Tolek’s. “Catacombs. We head to the catacombs once we get to Valyn. We bring strong fighters, we remain on guard, and we follow the tug of the Angelblood within me to look for a symbol of Valyrie’s Heart, using whatever else we learn from here”—I waved at the scroll and his notes—“to prepare.”

I withered at the consideration of the underground tombs and the things that may lurk down there, but I buried my fear lower than the corpses and let the heat of the Angellight seal it away, at least for now.

If we wanted answers, if we wanted to wrest control of our lives back from those who had refused to give us answers, we needed to do this.

“What have we learned from the coded scroll?” I asked, pushing to my feet and dusting off my hands. We had to return to the others and get moving.

Tolek rolled up the parchment, stowing it carefully away. “There’s a name repeated multiple times, though we don’t know who it is.”

“What name?”

“Echnid,” Tol said. He handed me a canteen to add to my pack.

“Do you think it’s one of the Fates?” I asked. “Since their names are only given to Starsearchers.”

“Could be.” Tol dragged a hand across his scruff, considering as we clamored up the bank and onto the jungle path. “There’s a lot of mentions of sacrificial stars and other ominous things in all three scrolls. The word Fatecatchers was used a few times in the final reading.”

“Fatecatchers?” I repeated.

Tol shook his head. “There’s no explanation for them. Or at least not one I’ve deciphered yet.”

He slipped into a tense silence, eyes narrowed on the branches above. Soon, our friends’ voices echoed from the road up ahead. Before Tol and I came into view, I grabbed his wrist. He turned his chocolate eyes on me, a brow raised as if to say yes?

“Is something else bothering you?” I asked. “Besides the threats and mentions of sacrifices.”

His jaw ticked at the word, but he peeked around the trees, making sure the others were far enough not to overhear. “Lyria,” he admitted.

“What about her?”

“I’ve tried to talk to her a few times since she came back from Banix, but other than group gatherings, she’s been avoiding me. Mila said she won’t talk about the war, but I know it left scars.”

How could it not? “Do you want me to try to talk to her?”

“As a Revered?”

“As whatever she needs,” I corrected, and took a step closer. “Whatever you need, too, Tolek. I’m here for you.”

He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, fingers lingering along my jaw. “I know, apeagna . Thank you.”

At that moment, Cypherion’s voice rose through the trees, reminding everyone we had to hurry if we were going to make it to our stop tonight—a fact he was disgruntled by. Malakai and Tolek had been dragging him off his horse at every rest point, forcing him to sleep and eat, though he wanted to keep riding.

“He’s worrying me a bit, too,” I whispered to Tolek.

He narrowed his eyes on the swinging vines ahead. “He’s been a bit cagey about this contact of his in Valyn and what the plan is.”

I sighed. “I trust him implicitly, but…” I didn’t want to admit it. To even suggest Cyph was allowing nerves to rule his decisions. We’d all be acting the same way if it was us in his position.

Tolek seemed to understand, squeezing my hand. “He’ll relax once we get her. Let’s keep going.”

As we walked on, I squeezed Tol’s hand back. “Thank you,” I told him. “I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

And I knew how much pressure he was putting on himself. To decode the scrolls, to translate the Endasi, to keep me and everyone else here safe.

Tolek lifted my hand to his lips and placed a chaste kiss there, though the promise burning in his eyes was anything but. “It’s my pleasure, Alabath.”

The next morning, I woke to Cypherion prodding me in the shoulder.

I rocked upright, blinking away the sleep as the jungle canopy and closely packed trees swam into focus. “Is everything okay?”

“I heard from my contact in Valyn.” Cyph’s voice was frantic enough to rouse Tolek beside me, his hair standing on edge and stubble thick. “We have a meeting place and time.”