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

Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

Damien

Valyrie and I knelt before our master in the large suite Bant had carved out for private dealings. Our wings draped along the stone floor, palms open atop our knees in submission.

The towering round ceiling was perfectly smooth, as if carved and polished by an ancient, mystical hand. But the echo of my home overlaid itself on my surroundings, replacing the stale air with mountain-crisp breezes in my mind.

And beyond the walls, a presence beat.

So close. We were so very close now.

Our master’s frame shimmered with untapped power. It was becoming a lively beast inside him, more each day.

He lifted a hand, studying the misty white wafting around his fingertips. “She is being pushed, as I had hoped.”

“You were correct,” I said, head bowed. “The enemy queen we did not predict may be a greater asset than originally considered.”

“But that Starsearcher…” His eyes flashed to Valyrie, and in those milky orbs, galaxies swirled, adopting her power. “She could share very dangerous secrets.”

“I have still not been able to read,” Valyrie said with her head bowed, silver rings glinting as she folded her hands. “Based on the Angelglass, her block is still in place, though I believe she is pushing her way through it. She is bound to Moi?—”

“Do not speak the traitor’s name!” he snapped, a cloud of misty power flooding the chamber.

“Apologies,” Valyrie said, leaning further forward, voice high and clear, though her eyes were rimmed with red after what we witnessed in the Angelglass tonight. “The Starsearcher is a catcher of Fates, a clawer of those that slip through godly hands, and a definer of destinies, but I do not believe she knows of where we are or why. I will continue to watch.”

He hummed in response, a noise that nearly rattled the walls, my bones with them. So much might festered within him, seeping out. “Despite the Starsearcher, the Chosen Child is poised to ask questions that doomed us before. We saw with the return of Bant’s uselessly discarded spirit that she is more than we intended.”

Guilt wound through me at the mention of the misstep I’d once made. Though Bant’s was more drastic. Entirely intentional and whole, where mine had been a sliver before being withdrawn.

Bant though…

That day echoed through my mind. His endless shuddering as what he’d so carelessly handed over to the Engrossian queen slipped back into place. As millennia of feeling danced along his bones.

For the rest of us, it was different. Our spirits not given over to a mortal in such an unholy way. We had not suffered an utter severing from our eternal bodies, but a warping and tearing. A suppressing into…elsewhere. We retained enough to recall those emotions that came along with a lively, intact spirit. Though it was only an echo.

My wings ruffled at the consideration of how that desperate decision, a scheme against me and my descendants, could have led to the ruin of what we’d fought for over millennia.

I growled, “Bant was reckless.”

“He was a fool ,” my master raged. And in his words, that power—the one I often thought I should fear—swam. “To think any one warrior could be the Chosen. That any one warrior could complete our tasks when they are laced with the endless magic of those who betrayed me.”

He drifted around the chamber, hovering over a throne of carved stone. “It is much more complicated than shedding a spirit into a mortal. Bant should have known the intricacies of these games, ever since the day you all ascended to me here. It requires sacrifices of blood spelled by our own hands to shatter those ancient locks.”

My wings shifted in agreement, tips of my feathers dragging along the dusty floor, but determination to not fail again solidified my words, and I turned us back to the more important matter. “The girl is clever, yes. But we have known her heart for a long while now. She is resilient. We know we can deliver her to the end we need.”

Restlessly, he shifted back to his feet and paced the chamber, form more corporeal than I had ever seen. He walked across the stone floors, though with his power, he did not need to. It was a choice. To feel solid ground beneath his feet.

He murmured, “We may still be surprised yet.”

I exchanged a look with Valyrie. “What do you mean?”

“She has power we did not anticipate. Power that has stirred things, and it gives her an advantage.”

I considered how she’d wielded the Angellight. First with only the emblems—now, more freely. It was never before seen, even with those long-banished foot soldiers and guardians. Even those kissed by Angels couldn’t wield the power of seven.

“We have seen the beasts awakening,” I began.

“Not only that,” our master said. “Two tales have merged to become one.” At his words, a surge of golden light burned across my skin. A memory , I assured myself. It was only a memory. “I knew the curse of Ophelia might spell our reign or our downfall, but I did not think like this.”

Stars had fallen from the sky, but was he saying two prophetic fates merged within the child? He had gone on about a fate millennia in the making, and I thought it had been gleeful rambling, thought it had been a reference to the chambers sealed around us finally cracking.

But perhaps it had been about that other unseen and unpredictable force. The beat of wings long clipped and the burn of magic long silenced.

Were the two utterly fused by the hands of the great mist and the power within a child’s blood? How… how would that end?

Kissed by Angels .

I turned a hardened stare to my master, awaiting direction.

“She needs to learn of this power carefully, at our discretion to avoid the bridges it may open prematurely.” His milky eyes darted smoothly from Valyrie to me. “You will need to guide her.”

Valyrie, long silver hair stirring in a wind around her shoulders, asked, “And Xenique?”

“When the girl is ready, Xenique’s legacy will be our final piece. She already has it, but point her to the discovery now, you two.”

We stood, beating our wings in the golden glow from my own light, pushing the boundaries. Valyrie’s lilac ether spilled around our feet.

And our master flashed a gleaming smile. “Now… Fly .”