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

Chapter 42

Chapter Forty-Two

Ophelia

The day following the Rites of Dusk, the Lendelli Market was alive with the abundance of magic flowing through its warriors.

“Have you and Jezebel been here before?” Rina asked as we strode through the stalls. All around us, the scents of richly-seasoned meat wafted through the air; shouts about fresh fruit, newly-forged jewelry, and hand-spun scarves carried down the aisles beneath the woven fabric roof, sunlight dappling the streets.

“Once, when we were young, but I barely remember it.” Our entire traveling party followed Erista’s bouncing curls and trilling explanations of the vendors lining the sand-strewn stone streets. “My grandmother always shared dazzling stories, though.”

“She was born in Lendelli, right?”

I nodded, side stepping a man with a crate full of pomegranates. “And lived here into her first century. Once she turned twenty and came of age, she spent nearly a hundred years training to be a priestess of Xenique.”

Santorina halted. “The training is a hundred years?”

“It can be.” I looped my arm through hers and tugged her back into motion. “Her magic isn’t particularly strong. In Soulguider temples, priestesses make rank, so she already had the basic title and was slowly climbing up.”

“A hundred years,” Rina considered. To a human, that was a long lifetime. “What made her give up all that work?”

“Love.” I smiled fondly. “My grandfather was on an assignment from Palerman when they met. It only took him two weeks to convince her to run away with him.”

“Knowing Grandmother,” Jezebel interrupted, appearing at my shoulder, “she decided that first day that she loved him and was making him work for it.”

Santorina laughed. “That does sound like her.”

Jezebel skipped ahead to catch up with Erista, looping her arm around her partner’s waist.

“Sometimes I wish I’d learned more about that side of my heritage,” I admitted to Rina.

“Didn’t she teach you and Jez when you were young?”

“The basics, yes. But I don’t know it the way I do the Mystiques. I’ve never been able to tap into the magic or recite the histories.” Digging a few coins out of my pack, I exchanged them for two silk scarves, draping one around Santorina’s shoulders and the other around my own.

Something about the thin maroon fabric, gold trim catching the light, helped me feel closer to my grandmother.

“We always thought I’d inherit my father’s position as Second,” I continued, “so Grandmother understood why I focused on that dominant side of my bloodline, but I completely shunned the other piece after the first war.”

When the option of the Undertaking had been ripped from my future, I became sullen and disinterested in anything that didn’t have to do with restoration for the people I was meant to lead.

“Your grandmother knew a great love worth running away for. I’m certain she understood why you reacted as you did.” Rina shrugged a shoulder. “We all knew.”

“Still,” I said, rubbing the silk between my fingers, “I wish I’d tried harder. I wish I hadn’t been so awful those years.”

“You were heartbroken, Ophelia,” Rina intoned. “Over more than one loss. No one is their best then.”

I’d made amends with my friends and family for how I’d acted, but that didn’t mean it didn’t haunt me. I didn’t think my grandmother begrudged me the time I took to grieve—if anything, she seemed to understand better than most—I only wished I did so differently.

I gripped the silk tighter. “It was her stories of my grandfather, actually, that made me believe in the idea of all-consuming love.”

“You never met your grandfather, right?”

“No.” I shook my head, following the rest of the group around the next corner where the clangs of steel rang from the blacksmith’s tent. “She spoke of him with such adoration, though. It was always what I thought Malakai and I had—that sort of enthralling love. But she’d always seemed a bit resigned about him and me.”

“Really?” Rina’s brows shot up. “She never showed that.”

“Not outright. She did— does —love Malakai, but she was never emphatic about the pairing.” I shrugged. “I always thought it was because it sealed my fate as a Mystique and led me to focus even less on our Soulguider heritage, but maybe…” I looked over my shoulder to where Malakai walked with Cypherion and Tol, laughing with a few of the Soulguiders Erista had introduced us to. To where the quartz pendant my grandmother had gifted me for my twentieth birthday shone proudly on Tolek’s leathers. “I think a part of her might have always known that it wouldn’t be Malakai and me at the end.”

Perhaps she’d seen it in one of her Soulguider visions—that it would be Tolek and me hand in hand until our dying days.

“I love your grandmother as if she’s my own,” Rina began, examining a hooked knife.

“She feels the same toward you.”

“She’s told me.” I smiled at that. “And as someone who also loves you, I’m certain she only wants you to be happy. We all do, and that’s why we were so frustrated following the first war. Not because of the heritage you shunned.” Rina squeezed my arm. “Be happy, Ophelia. We’re here now—you can learn.”

Ahead, Erista called Rina’s name to point out a stall full of tonics and herbs.

“Thank you, Rina,” I said. “Go shop to your healer heart’s desire.”

She laughed, never having been one for shopping, and ducked into the tent.

Learn , Rina had said.

I picked up the knife she’d been looking at. With its delicately crafted, rounded blade, it was a pristine Soulguider weapon. I didn’t know the exact name, but Rina was right. I could learn.

As I stood on this land my grandmother may have walked on, I couldn’t help but wonder, had these markets been here when she shopped? Had she roamed these sand-strewn stone streets? Were the vendors old friends, or descendants of them?

Where was her home? Her place of worship and schooling? Her life ? Before she gave it all up for the man she loved.

Someone tugged at my hand, breaking through the thought.

“You okay?” Tolek asked, those brown eyes searching my expression, amber flecks burning right though me, all the way down to the soles of my boots, rooted on Soulguider ground.

“Yeah,” I said, a bit sadly. But the market around us was bustling with both shoppers and magic, and for once, the day didn’t feel burdened by the Angels.

It was clear in the intensity of Tolek’s gaze that he knew I wasn’t being entirely honest. Obvious in the very intentional step he took toward me. In the way he tilted my chin up with his free hand and kissed me so passionately, I could almost forget the remorse swirling through me.

Whatever it is, I’m here , his lips spelled. My heart raced at the sentiment, at the feel of his tongue stroking mine, at the warmth of his body, evident even in the dry desert heat and making me squirm.

“Don’t get lost, you two!” Jezebel’s voice drifted from down the street.

Tolek smiled against my lips. “I’m tempted to do exactly that.” Keeping his hand beneath my chin, he surveyed the area. “It looks private behind that tent. We could…”

Wings fluttered in my chest, my core aching for him at only the thought. “Later,” I said, kissing him chastely, but I didn’t miss the way his stare heated at the promise. I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Vincienzo.”

“Yes, Revered,” he said, smugly satisfied.

I pulled him after me, invigorated at the promise of being in the land that held a piece of my ancestry. As we wound down the aisles, I committed every sight and sound, every smiling warrior and bartering seller to memory.

I got my wild, dreamer soul and proclivity for magic from my grandmother. I hoped, while we were here, I would be able to connect with her.

A pleasure house was not what I had in mind.

“You’re certain this is the best way?” I asked Erista again as she, Cypherion, and I stood at the bar of yet another inn our party was commandeering for a few evenings.

This one, unlike the one Harlen had procured in Starsearcher Territory, wasn’t cleared out for our stay. It was quite the opposite, with residents littering the dining room and filling the rooms above. The front door was propped open directly onto a hectic market street.

Given that we were in ally territory now, the Engrossians were staying in the same inn, seated around our table in the dining room with everyone else. Even the fae were there, with hoods up. Mora had been increasingly quiet since the catacombs, but things had been more amicable with Lancaster. As if us tending to his sister formed a temporary truce.

“The pleasure houses are the best option,” Erista said confidently, elbows resting on the turquoise tile bar as we waited for drinks.

Water was placed before me, and I spun the glass between my hands.

Cypherion asked, a bit stiffly, “Why, though?”

“The Storytellers of Lendelli have formed nests,” Erista explained. “Something about the freedom of the pleasure houses attracts them.”

It made sense when she put it that way. Brothels didn’t usually operate under strict rules. It likely made for a comfortable, reclusive space for those of the famous cult to withdraw from the world, even if they were not working members of the establishments.

“Then, I can’t wait to see.” I tipped my glass to hers, and the Soulguider flitted off to claim a seat between Jezebel and Vale with our friends.

“Have you heard back from the Bodymelders?” Cypherion asked, his attention drifting to the table.

“Not since Esmond’s last letter. He said the chancellor has declined any aid being sent now that they got the flames under control and didn’t lose too many crops.” A devastating fire had swept through villages near Firebird’s Field a few days ago.

“That’s good,” Cyph said. “But it’s still unprecedented. Do they think it was sabotage?”

“It is,” I agreed, “and they have no idea. Esmond is leaning toward no.” He’d been the Bodymelder Chancellor’s apprentice in Damenal, had been stationed with Lyria’s troops at the border, and spent some time with us in the outposts post-war. Esmond was one of the best of the healing clan; I trusted his insight.

“That’s worrisome in a different way, then,” Cyph said, but his attention was still snagged on Vale, so I let the conversation drop.

“How’s she doing?” I asked, nodding to the Starsearcher.

Cypherion observed her, sitting quietly in her seat but smiling at the conversation. Cyph’s lips twitched upward, too.

“She’s okay,” Cypherion said. Then, he dropped his voice. “I think she’s grateful Harlen had also been named apprentice and few people knew she was back. It was fucked up that Titus treated her that way, but maybe it’s for the best. Harlen is acting-chancellor until the council decides what comes next and she…” His gaze drifted back to Vale, nothing but pure adoration glinting in those blue eyes.

“She’s free,” I said, understanding.

No more oaths, no more toxic savior relationships, no more tattoos and brands and temples. Freedom .

“Yeah,” Cyph said, wonder in his voice. “She’ll get there. The loss of the tattoo has been the hardest part.”

The breaking of a soul-bond. Automatically, my hand drifted to my own North Star.

I brushed it away, clearing my throat and looking over Cyph. Scruff still adorned his chin and longer auburn curls stretched to his shoulders. “And how are you doing?”

Cypherion looked at me, nodding. “Better now.”

“Good,” I said.

“And thank you.”

I raised a brow. “For?”

“For—” He blew out a breath, laughing. “Dammit, I didn’t want to admit it. But thank you for making me take the position of Second. For waiting for me to accept it.”

“I pushed pretty hard.”

“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t push us all, though,” he said, and I rolled my eyes. “But I mean it. Thank you, Ophelia. I realized when Vale and I were dealing with Titus that I may actually like it. That I could be good at it.”

Cypherion had always been an asset in meetings and strategy sessions, but there was a marked change since he returned. Like he now understood those strengths within himself. How he’d organized Vale’s entire rescue with Harlen, how assertive he’d been. Sure, it was because her safety was at risk, but those dire circumstances only brought the qualities he always had to the surface.

I didn’t add aloud that he’d come to these understandings without the knowledge of who his father was.

“You’re perfect for it,” I swore, gripping his arm. “We’re only getting started, Cyph, but you and me…we’ve got quite a partnership ahead of us.”

“Taking the Mystiques to new heights.” He chuckled. “I suppose that’s literal with Sapphire.”

My warrior-horse-turned-pegasus born from the stars herself would certainly help us soar.

A thought struck me then. “We have a while until we head out, correct?”

At the mention of tonight, Cypherion nodded minutely, fidgeting with his ale.

My brows drew together, but when he didn’t comment, I downed my water and said, “Vale and I will be back before then.”

The cavern was cold compared to the dunes we walked to get there, a welcome chill cooling the sweat beading down my back.

“As much as I love the cryptic nature of this all, Ophelia,” Vale whispered, voice still a touch hollow, “I hope there’s a reason you’re bringing me to this dark cave.”

I laughed. “I promise, nothing nefarious. I owe you too much to wish any ill will against you.”

We rounded the final bend, and Vale let out a small, awed gasp.

“You were gone for so long, and then the way we’ve had to stagger our travel times for secrecy, you’ve yet to see Sapphire.”

My pegasus stood across the pool, flaring those magnificent white wings. The gold woven among her feathers glinted in the mystlight lanterns set up throughout the cavern.

I nudged Vale. “You can go closer. She’s as docile as ever.”

As she took an eager step around the pool of water, the shadows in the depths of the cavern shifted, and Zanox emerged.

No—it was Dynaxtar. The quieter of the two beasts, a bit smaller and timid. Zanox stood behind her, almost a shadow against the dark rock as he observed Vale with an approving snort.

Dynaxtar, though, came to stand across the water, wings relaxed at her sides.

“Curious,” I said.

“What?” Vale asked, without looking away.

I shrugged. “Dynaxtar usually only cares about Jez, and Erista by extension.”

Vale considered, watching Dynaxtar’s silver mane tumble over her neck as she shook her head. “She’s beautiful.”

“She is,” I agreed. I’d once thought the beasts fearsome, but these weeks with them had taught me to look beneath the armored scales, beyond the unfamiliar. “They’re incredibly smart and patient with us, too. All three are.”

“Mystical beasts tend to understand us better than we expect,” Vale said.

I jerked my head toward Sapphire. “Come on.”

We rounded the edge of the pool, and Sapphire beat her wings gently in excitement. A twin sensation fluttered through my body, down to the shreds of my soul.

Vale circled Sapphire, admiring her.

“You can touch them,” I said, and Vale started. I gently trailed my fingertips along the downy feathers. “She doesn’t mind. I think she likes it, actually.” As if in confirmation, she released a low nicker.

“That’s my girl,” I purred.

Vale was silent as she explored Sapphire, casting curious glances toward the khrysaor.

“I’m sorry for what you had to do.” I whispered it so quietly, I thought she might not have heard at first.

But after a moment, she said in a tone that chimed like a bell, “I am, too,” and continued tending to my pegasus.

“I know I wasn’t in your situation, but I’ve had to do a lot of things I never thought I would. Spilled blood I’d never imagined would stain my hands.”

Lucidius, all those months ago within the confines of the Spirit Volcano, was a loss that had become a festering wound between Malakai and me. Then, shortly after, the Mindshaper Chancellor, Aird. I carried less guilt for that. When he’d attacked me during the Battle of Damenal, I’d been left with little choice. Still, an entire clan had relied on him. Had I doomed them to a worse fate by slaying him or cleared the way for a more just ruler? Only time would tell, given that no political movements had been made clear from the Mindshapers.

But Vale…what she’d done was different than either of those circumstances.

I continued, “I won’t pretend to know how you feel or presume to understand how your relationship with Titus truly unfolded, but from what I do know, and from what I’ve experienced myself, it’s okay to grieve while still being happy you made that choice.”

“There was no choice,” she answered. “And yet, sometimes, I find myself torn. I fluctuate between being angry I didn’t have an option, wishing there could have been another way, and grateful I was allowed to be weak enough to let the Fates decide.” Her words twisted with ire at the end—ire for herself or for the circumstances, I wasn’t sure.

“Death is not simple, nor is it clean. And in my experience, it is rarely easy to come to terms with.” My father’s presence settled around me, as if his spirit was with us.

Vale watched her hands. “Sometimes I feel nothing at all toward it, and I worry that being able to kill someone who had given me so much at one point means I’m heartless.” She bit her lip. “The night they found Cypherion and me in the archives, the Fates showed me a reading that said I would be Titus’s downfall.” I perked up, wondering what else she saw and how it had built to that moment. “I didn’t think it was possible, but I suppose I was meant to do what I did. And now, sometimes I’m numb to it.”

I strode around Sapphire and took Vale’s hands between my own. “Everything you feel—be it loud crashes of tidal waves threatening to drown you or the still calm sea—is all a part of healing.”

“Thank you,” Vale whispered. And it was only two small words, but they were layered with such sincerity, like it was exactly what she’d needed to hear. Vale hugged me to her, gratitude seeping from her body in waves.

As she pulled back, the silver on her shoulder glinted.

“May I ask?” I said, and she followed my stare to the ring of stars, her fingers tracing over it as her own eyes dropped to my Bind, and she nodded. “How did it feel?”

“It was something I’d never wish on my worst enemy, Ophelia. It was the root of myself shredded—a piece lost to eternity. And now, I have to learn the consequences of it.”

I gripped my arm around the Bind, rolling my lips together. There was nothing to respond, nothing but fear cascading through my body, so I nodded.

Vale stepped back, saying, “I’m going to go meet the khrysaor, if that’s all right.”

“Of course,” I said around the dread crowding my throat. “They prefer apples if you want to feed them. We had to tie the baskets shut in an attempt to keep them out.”

Sapphire’s wing curved around me, and the soft sound of Vale muttering to Dynaxtar and Zanox filled the cavern. She spent an hour tending to Dynaxtar in particular, and the entire time, all I could see was the outline of the North Star inked on my arm. All I could wonder was if I would one day learn to live without a piece of my soul.