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

Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Ophelia

Valyn had changed since our summer exchange when we were sixteen. We’d stayed in one of the old temple academies then, one they’d converted to house visiting trainees. The halls had been packed with teenage warriors. Flirtations, trysts, and fights waited around every corner, but it had been grounded. A routine and tours of the historic sites of the city, ending each day in common squares on the temple grounds mingling among the warriors. Festivals, sneaking out, getting caught…

Now, nearly six years later, as Cypherion and I wound through the streets of the furthest edge of the capital, the air was heavy with an untoward combination of magic and gritty, hostile spirits. Every breath was ominous, like a Fate could tear through the heavens, reach out celestial hands, and pluck us from the cobblestones.

“What district are we in again?” I asked.

“Technically none. This is a twelfth zone that doesn’t fall in a district,” Cypherion answered from beneath his hood. “Be careful where the incense is thickest.” He jerked his chin toward a dense cloud of lilac haze up ahead, glittering in the orbs of mystlight hanging from brass lanterns over each doorway.

“That’s not the kind meant for Starsearcher sessions, is it?” I asked.

“Not in this part of the city,” Cyph muttered. “Those ones don’t only affect Starsearchers.”

Needing my head free of drug-induced haze, I kept a wide breadth from the clouds and followed Cyph quickly down more winding walkways, all surrounded by various shops and draped in greenery that began to feel like a maze.

He’d been relentless getting here. Once he received word of tonight’s meeting place from his contact, we’d ridden hard for three days. He likely wouldn’t have stopped once if the exhaustion wasn’t about to drag him off his horse. I offered to fly ahead with Sapphire, but she could only carry two of us at a time, and travel by night. His informant had been very specific that we’d need everyone for this plan.

Only Cypherion and I were meeting him now, but that didn’t stop Tolek and Malakai from trailing us to be safe. Looking over my shoulder, the two warriors were feigning interest in a tavern window where the barkeep could pass beverages out to the now-empty courtyard.

“You’re sure you trust this person?” I triple-checked with Cypherion, studying him for any sign of faltering.

I was certain he’d never willingly lead us into danger, and I was watching to ensure his sharp mind hadn’t been affected. As far as I could tell, he was as calculating as ever—acting quickly but not rashly.

Pushing a hand through the greenery draping tightly across the stone walls and shoving lightly, Cyph said, “I would trust the man we’re meeting with very few things in life. But this…” He walked a few feet and repeated the action. “This, he cares about.” A subtle click, and a door creaked open in the flora-wrapped wall, a sliver of dim light pouring over the stone walkway. “And he has reparations to make.”

It was…well, it was a hidden tavern.

One with booths cut into the walls, and low, curved ceilings forming shadowed meeting places. It was buried two floors beneath the ground, as the fighting dens I knew Cypherion frequented often were, or the less savory gambling halls I’d visited with Tolek.

Cypherion led us to the bar and ordered two of the cheapest ales. “For appearances,” he said, looking over my head as he leaned against the chipped granite counter.

Based on the shuffling of two pairs of boots from the stairway behind me, our guard had arrived. Or maybe it was the citrus and spice scent that somehow found its way to me through the stale air, masking the festering liquor spilled on the bar.

Without acknowledging them, I accepted the mug Cypherion extended to me, then followed him down the aisle between small wooden tables and the alcoves. When we reached the last booth, he ducked inside. I slid along the wooden bench beside him, both of us keeping our hoods up.

“Cypherion,” a low voice said.

“Harlen,” Cyph offered.

Harlen . My head whipped toward Cyph. “The one who works for Titus?”

This was his contact? No wonder he hadn’t wanted to tell us his name. My hand drifted toward the dagger at my thigh, the only weapon Cyph had let me bring, given that the others were too noticeable.

“He’s trustworthy.”

I kept one eye on the Starsearcher hidden in the shadows. “Didn’t he sell you and Vale out by passing your movements to the chancellor?”

“I did do that,” Harlen said. “But I was manipulated—as Vale was. Titus used me to get to her, and then punished me to get her to cooperate. But yes, I am guilty of what you claim, Revered Alabath.” Then, Harlen leaned forward, and?—

Cypherion swore. “Spirits, Harlen. You look…are you okay?”

One of his eyes was swollen shut, a nasty gash stitched sloppily across his cheekbone, and yellow and green splotches faded along his jaw.

“I’m fine.” Despite the bruising, he flashed a grin, but it tugged gruesomely at his stitches. “And before you ask, he hasn’t touched her.”

Cypherion swallowed. “What’s happening to her?”

“She’s...different. She’s spent most of the time locked in a room we used to think Titus used for readings.” He exhaled. “Though we now know that’s a fucking sham.”

Cyph’s jaw ticked. “Is he making her read?”

“Yes,” Harlen answered. “He beat me to make her cooperate because he won’t dare lay a hand on her. He can’t risk it given that she’s the only reason he’s maintaining a facade of power.” Cypherion’s knuckles turned white from how tightly he clenched his fists, and I laid a hand on his arm to remind him where we were. “She’s stubborn enough that she refuses to read when I’m there, for fear of what he’ll do if she’s not paying attention. But Vale has not been harmed physically.”

“Physically?” I asked. Cyph was nearly shaking with tension now.

“Like I said, she’s different.” Harlen seemed to choose his words carefully. “I don’t get much time alone with her, but even when it’s only us for a few moments, she’s hardened. Like there’s an impenetrable force around her.”

When we’d imprisoned Vale following the Battle of Damenal, she’d solidified that steel-will around herself. She became distant, hardened . This sounded even more severe than that.

“Titus held true to his word about helping her fix her sessions, though.”

“Of course, he did,” Cyph muttered, flexing his fingers. “It’s in his best interest.”

Harlen nodded. “He hasn’t asked me to read once since she’s been back.”

So, Vale was the chancellor’s puppet again. I straightened, one hand laying on the hilt of my dagger for support, the other remaining on Cyph’s arm. “How are we getting her out?”

“We?” Harlen asked.

“Harlen,” Cyph growled, “you do have a plan, correct?”

“I do.” The Starsearcher nodded. “But you two will not be going into that manor.”

Cyph’s voice was laced with a threat. “I’m getting her back, even if I have to tear this entire city apart.”

“Yes, but it won’t be you .” Cypherion opened his mouth to continue, but Harlen waved him off. “Everyone in your little cabal has a role to play, but yours is not there.” His expression turned serious. “I promise, I’ve thought it all through, Cypherion. This is the only way.”

“What am I doing, then?” Cyph’s words were gloomy but layered with authority.

“Tomorrow night, you will be in the fighting rings downstairs while Malakai and whoever he deems the best assistant break into the manor.”

“Why Malakai?” I asked.

“Because Titus remembers his careless disposition from the Rapture and deems him the least threatening. The least important to watch.”

“Watch?” I asked. My gaze flashed over the quiet tavern.

“Titus likely already knows we’re here,” Cyph whispered.

“And he likely knows I’m meeting with the two of you,” Harlen added.

I turned back to the Starsearcher. “Why the theatrics, then?”

“Because it’s what he would expect. I don’t want him to think I know he knows. I’m certain I will receive a grand punishment for this, but it’s all part of my plan. And because his people are probably watching us closely at this moment, I’m going to take this bag”—he dropped a heavy burlap sack on the table, and the contents jingled—“and give it to you to have your friends bet on Cypherion tomorrow. Because I’ve earned quite a reputation these last few weeks for being involved in the fighting rings, so it’s only fitting I called a sure-fire contestant back here. And Titus fears we are working together to try to earn enough to purchase Vale from him.”

“She’s not something to be bought,” Cypherion said, but he grabbed the bag and tucked it under his cloak.

“Trust me, I know.” Harlen grimaced, but went on, “You said the future Engrossian king is your ally? He’s set to introduce his queen-to-be to Titus tomorrow evening.”

“That’s when this all happens, then,” I said.

Harlen had orchestrated all of this. Directing us to the bar upon arrival. Having the money for the bet ready. Even carefully placing Malakai as the one to break into the manor instead of me or Cypherion. It had all been strategically plotted.

“How can we be sure Titus doesn’t have someone reading this plan?” I asked.

Harlen answered as if having anticipated that question. “He won’t expose to anyone other than Vale and me that he isn’t able to read it himself.”

The chancellor’s own pride would be our biggest ally. At the corrupt thought, a slow, savage smile split my lips.

Harlen matched it.

“While Malakai gets into the manor to find Vale,” I said, “Barrett will keep Titus out of the way.”

“Yes. And you?—”

“I’ll be taking care of something for the Angels.”

“Vale didn’t give me any details, but she said there’s something specific she’s trying to read when Titus isn’t using her. That the readings are powerful. Whatever you have to do here, Revered, I assume it’s tied to that.”

I nodded. “We’ll take care of it while they get her out, Barrett distracts the chancellor, and Cypherion keeps himself very visible in the rings since Titus’s people will be watching him closest.”

Cyph grunted in agreement, crossing his arms.

“Precisely.” Harlen leaned forward, and the bruises shadowing his face gave him a haunting impression. “Let’s discuss the details, shall we? This plan can’t have any holes in it if we’re going to succeed.”

After Harlen left, we lingered in the tavern for appearances. It was late when we finally stood, and I asked Cypherion, “You trust him?”

For the first time in days, he grinned. “I’d already worked out his entire plan. I’m surprised you hadn’t, Ophelia.”

“I would have!” I crossed my arms, fighting the urge to hit him for not divulging what he suspected. “When you went quiet as he started telling us his idea, I had a feeling you were two steps ahead, but I’d been so focused on you , I hadn’t had any time to scheme.”

“Come on, Revered. If we’re going to lead the Mystique Warriors, we need to add scheming into our schedule.” We both laughed, but then his expression softened. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wanted to see what Harlen had to say organically, without anyone else guessing.”

I waved off the apology. “Damien knows I haven’t always shared my plans. We all just want to make sure you’re okay. And Vale.”

I still didn’t know what exactly had changed between them when they traveled alone to Starsearcher Territory, but it seemed too intimate to ask.

“This plan is strong,” he said, reassuring himself as much as me. “We’ll get her back.”

“I swear on Damien’s unholy dominion, tomorrow night, we’re getting Vale back and leaving here with Valyrie’s emblem.”

And I prayed to the Angel himself it was true.