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

Chapter 50

Chapter Fifty

Ophelia

Everyone in our party joined for the gods’ reading. Once the moon slipped into the sky, we traversed the dunes to the cave system Sapphire and the khrysaor were hidden in.

As Vale set up a series of six candles in the dim mystlight lanterns of the cavern, each with a different incense and tinctures burning ahead of it, Lancaster stepped to my shoulder.

“One per deity,” he muttered.

I nodded. “Do you think each is specific, or is it the amount that matters?”

Rina answered from my other side. “I’d guess they’re each attuned to the god’s or goddess’ principle domain and the properties they’re abound with.”

“Perceptive, Bounty,” Lancaster grunted in appreciation.

Santorina bristled. “Don’t call me that.”

“Just because you do not like what is within you, does not make it untrue.”

My narrowed stare swiveled from Vale, lighting the final incense, to the fae male. But I didn’t need to reprimand him, because Santorina snapped, “I am perfectly happy with myself, thank your ego for the inflated opinion.”

Lancaster sneered, stalking away to stand beside Celissia. She’d bonded with the fae while assisting in their healing process, the two gravitating toward the Engrossians often now. Barrett and Dax joked with Mila and Lyria at their side.

Stress lined the prince’s expression, and when our eyes met, he nodded grimly in acknowledgment, but he dragged a hand through his curls and plastered on a smile, gaze flicking to Vale.

And I was reminded again that everything we did—every decision we made to try to appease the fae while they were here—was not only in pursuit of the Angelcurse. As Barrett said in Valyn, we were rulers, and the stakes to keeping our people safe were mounting.

I turned back to Rina and asked, “Are you all right?” I spoke low enough that hopefully even the fae’s immortal eavesdropping wouldn’t pick it up. I was extra wary of that lately.

“With him?” she asked with a pointed glare at Lancaster. “Entirely unconcerned.” I wasn’t certain if it was a lie or not, but Rina went on, waving a hand at Vale’s set up, “With this? I’m immensely curious.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?” I whispered. Vale was settling into her reading, the cloud of melded incense swarming around her, frizzing her hair.

A few feet away, Cypherion perched on a rock, stare intent on his girl. Tolek and Malakai stood on either side of him, attempting to calm his agitation.

Rina said, “I don’t know if anything we’ve done lately is a good idea, Ophelia.” She had a point. “But this is even more precarious. If it’s not the gods’ will to be reached…”

We would suffer the consequences of their wrath.

But I didn’t want to raise that concern with anyone. Not after the levity we’d all expressed today. We would deal with that fate if it befell us. Instead, I forced a smirk to my lips and said, “We already have the Angels breathing down our necks, why not throw in the gods, as well?”

Santorina gave me a scolding look, but based on how she shifted a bit closer, nudging me affectionately with her elbow, she knew we may not have a choice. We were at the will of the higher powers.

I was grateful to have these people by my side through the storm.

We drifted over to Tolek, Cypherion, and Malakai, the four of us doing our best to distract Cyph, but his attention was only focused on one person.

Sapphire draped her wing over my shoulder, and I ran a hand down those downy-soft feathers, wishing for some kind of explanation as to everything the Storyteller said. How she was here, if Jez and I truly fit into the myth, and what it all meant.

My sister sat across the small pool in the cavern with the khrysaor and Erista. We hadn’t had time yet to unravel what we’d learned last night, and she still seemed sunken within herself from the supposed death, but tonight, I was determined to get some answers—some pieces. Angellight whirled within me as if in response to that call.

Finally, Vale’s head snapped up.

“How do you feel?” Cypherion blurted.

The Starsearcher swiveled toward us, her eyes mostly clear and her body seemingly under her control. “I feel fine.” She pouted.

“Were you able to see the gods?” I asked. Sapphire’s wings ruffled with my anticipation.

“Somewhat,” Vale explained, eyeing the new tinctures. “I could see them more definitively than before, but it wasn’t a clear scene or anything. It was”—she shivered—“a twist of power, I think. Tempests and lightning and iron doors slamming shut.”

My gaze shifted to Lancaster and Mora, both with attention honed on the Starsearcher. “Any idea what that could mean?”

Lancaster looked to his sister, then said, “It sounds like she was seeing a display of their power in its cruelest form.”

“What’s the cruelest form?” I asked.

“It depends who you ask,” Mora answered, her face a bit pale.

Santorina took a step forward. “What would you two say?”

And Lancaster forced out, “Bargains.”

Tolek and I exchanged a glance, my hand coming to the charm at my necklace.

“Bargains are the cruelest…” Rina murmured, assessing Lancaster and Mora. “And you cannot speak of the gods and goddesses because your magic is connected to them, as is this entire Angelcurse, if we’re correct.”

We were all silent for a moment, trying to put together those pieces.

Finally, Vale said, “Part of the scene almost felt locked away.”

“Locked?” Malakai echoed, brows raised. And I knew what he was thinking. Locked, like the bargains of the strongest fae he’d read about in the books he stole from Ritalia.

Vale nodded. “There was some kind of veil segmenting off part of it, like its locked away.” She huffed, glaring at her new supplies. “I truly thought that, combined with my unlocked magic, these would do the trick. Open those final floodgates.”

I chewed my lip, suppressing the demanding power within me. But we needed this information, even if the Angels had warned against digging too deeply into the stars.

Especially because of that.

My eyes found Jezebel’s across the pool, sitting safely on the bank between Zanox and Dynaxtar, Erista and Mora beside her. My sister, understanding exactly what memory was harassing my mind, nodded in encouragement.

And though fear coiled between my ribs, I had to stop letting it freeze me.

“By the fucking Angels,” I grumbled, unclasping my necklace and dropping to my knees before Vale. “Try again.”

“What are you doing?” Tolek asked, warning in his voice. Cypherion stood from his perch, hovering.

But I ignored them both, watching only Vale as she inferred my plan and silently agreed, a honed confidence in her strength, one that had been dampened before she returned to Valyn. Dumping out the contents of the pouch at my side, I scattered the emblems across the earth and unsheathed my dagger.

“Alabath!” Tolek swore as Cypherion said, “Ophelia, don’t!”

But my blade was already slicing across my hand, deep enough to sting, sending blood raining down across all six Angel tokens. The shard of Angelborn, the ring, the pearl, the gilded petal, the broken crown, and now, Valyrie’s heart—the crystal carving of the lovers—were all sprinkled red.

And the boys’ shouts were muffled by a barrier of Angellight shooting up around Vale and me, a tunnel stretching to the top of the cave.

Vale’s session had been empowered by my light that day in Seawatcher Territory when she first seized, but now she’d fixed that ailment. Now, we had to find out what else she could read.

I squinted against the light as it brushed against my skin like a harsh wind. It was effervescent and euphoric, the way the power used to always be while under my control. It fulfilled all those searching, hollow pieces inside of me.

And it burned like an Angel’s cruel heart.

But it didn’t sear painfully. No, this was restorative as I called up the strongest essence of it I could. It lit the candles and licked across Vale’s skin.

Beyond the barrier, Jezebel sat safely beside the pool between her khrysaor. Relief swooped through my stomach. It wasn’t harming her this time.

Gold ether wrapped around Vale and me, and I nodded to the Starsearcher, her eyes falling closed as she reached out to the Fates. And after a moment, she gasped.

And in the tunnel of Angellight, her reading unfolded. As it had in Seawatcher Territory when the frames of Angels seem to appear above us, pieces of what Vale saw came to life.

There were flashes of tempests and lightning streaking the skies, fires raging through the lands and beasts bounding, untamed. The stars whirled, those iron doors slammed shut, and even the mountains cracked.

As I watched it play out, Vale spoke, tone breathless in disbelief. “The gods…they’re walking with the Angels.”

“I see them,” I said, but I wasn’t sure where they were, only seeing a blank canvas surrounding their forms. They laughed, though. The six with features obscured and seven with wings beating at their backs, all seeming…amicable.

“Do you know where they are?” I asked.

“Wildflowers,” Vale said. Behind her closed eyes, in the depths of her readings, the trails of starfire and her nine Fate ties were showing her more. “They’re overflowing like an explosion of fire. All oranges and yellows across the rolling hills.”

There was only one place I knew of that fit that description. “Keep reading,” I urged, smearing more blood across the emblems. The tunnel flared around us.

On the other side, Tolek paced, his hands locked behind his back to stop himself from interfering. I kept my focus on Vale.

“They’re exchanging power. It’s like the magic I saw earlier, but tamed. The winds and creatures, the heavens and mountains…everything is docile.” Her eyes shifted back and forth beneath her lids. “Peaceful. But something is being… traded, I think? And— no! ” Her lips pressed together, eyes clenching tighter.

“What is it?” I leaned forward, dug deep inside myself and the emblems to pull up as much Angellight as possible to help her strengthen the reading of the Prime Warriors.

“The gods and goddesses, they’re—they’re hurting the Angels.” And I saw it as Vale narrated. The Angels were on their hands and knees, grabbing for their throats. The power was everywhere, exploding all around them.

“I can’t hold on to it,” Vale said, her hands tightening into fists, words rushing. “The magic they’re trading, it’s harming the Angels, some sort of sacrifice. And they’re?—”

Lightning cracked across the image, Angellight sparking, and Vale’s eyes flew open. “They’re gone,” she panted. “A burst of light and they were gone.”

I released a breath and dropped the Angellight tunnel to the cavern floor. Vale and I both slumped, our gazes locked as we tried to interpret what she’d read. Her eyes still swirled with silver stars.

Cypherion and Tolek dropped beside each of us.

“Dammit, Alabath,” Tol said. Taking my bleeding palm in his hand, he began cleaning the wound. “You truly are trying to send me to the Spirit Realm.”

I gave him a small, flirtatious, and hopefully forgivable smile. “If I do, perhaps I can travel between the worlds again and find you.”

“You’d fucking better,” he said and kissed my forehead.

I quickly healed my hand with Angellight and tucked the emblems away, but as I was finishing up, Vale voiced the question gnawing at my mind, loud enough that the entire cavern froze. “Do you think that was the Ascension?”

I bit my lip. It was exactly what I’d thought of when she described the scene. “It might have been.”

“But then, how were the gods involved?” Jezebel asked.

I worried less about that than about what Vale asked next, “And why was a process that was supposed to be thrilling and harmonious displayed as a brutal trading of magic?”

“I don’t?—”

“Quiet!” Erista’s voice cracked across the cavern. Slowly, her gaze drifted toward the entrance. “Something is wrong.”

I had one beat for the ice in her voice to turn to panic, then, she was running.

Jezebel was on her heels, calling for her partner, and the rest of us sped after them, sand kicking up as we hurried through the tunnel.

“Erista, what’s happening?” Jez shouted again.

But Erista didn’t answer—she didn’t have to. Because when we all stumbled to a halt at the mouth of the cave system, we froze. Hands immediately flashed toward weapons.

“What is this?” I asked.

Erista swallowed, voice shaky. “It’s the Rites of Dusk.”

“But…”

The Soulguider nodded. “Something is very wrong.”

Dread chilled my blood. This wasn’t the Rites we’d seen recently. That was frivolity and empowerment. It was warriors beneath the swirling sandstorm, waves of maroon and amethyst bathing their dancing and offerings.

This, though…this was a horror dropped directly upon the market town of Lendelli.

Dark purple sand clouds shredded along the streets a mile away, obscuring the buildings and wrenching up tarps.

Without another thought, we ran. The soft sand slowed our progress, my legs burning much sooner than usual. Lancaster and Mora tore ahead of the rest of us with their fae speed.

“This shouldn’t be happening like this!” Erista called. “The sands don’t fall.”

Neither do constellations , I thought, digging my feet into the earth to speed up.

The screams got louder as we breeched the town limit. Cries from families who had still been out enjoying the last of the evening’s warmth—from children searching for their parents.

“What’s the plan here, Alabath?” Tolek called over the roaring wind. The sand was swirling closer, and I squinted against it.

“Get as many people inside as possible!” I yelled. Only Tol, Jezebel, and Erista were close enough to hear me, the others breaking off into smaller groups and winding through the town.

Heads down, we sprinted around corners and up alleys. Soulguiders ducked beneath stalls, behind crates, anything to get out of the harsh, gravelly winds. They tore at my skin, the force leaving small cuts along my arms, and grains of sand stung my eyes.

“Get inside!” Erista yelled to her people, keeping a hand above her face. “It will stop soon!” And she sounded so confident, but when she met my narrowed gaze, the uncertainty was stark.

We cleared one street and started on the next, holding up woven tarps and scarves to cover the worst of the blasts. Soulguiders carried their young, braced windows with splintering wooden table tops.

Up and down we ran, helping families secure their doors and sealing shutters closed. Ducking through another alley, Tol, Jez, Erista, and I stumbled to a halt.

“Children,” Jez panted. They hunched on the ground, heads tucked to their knees against the powerful gusts. When they lifted their stares at our approach, their eyes were red and glassy.

“They must be from a nearby boarding school,” Erista yelled over the roar of the winds. “It’s before curfew.”

“We need to get them inside,” I said.

A boy who looked about twelve popped to his feet beside me, the wind rifling his long braids. “The doors are all locked!”

By the Angels .

“We’ll get them open!” I called down the alley so all the children could hear. Spinning, I coughed over the sand shoved down my throat, and asked, “Tol?”

He nodded, eyes red and determined, and unsheathed his sword. Wood cracking and splintering pierced the howling wind as Tolek jammed the hilt of his weapon against one of the nearest locks until it broke, and he shoved the door wide.

Jezebel and Erista raced inside to secure the windows on the other side of the empty shop as Tol and I ushered the children in.

The last of the bunch, a small girl about five and who appeared to be her younger brother, were the slowest.

“Alabath!” Tolek called, nodding down the way.

A mass of sand was gathering at the end of the alley, roaring toward us. We raced forward, and Tol scooped up the girl while the boy locked his arms around my neck, his face tucking into my shoulder. I cradled the back of his head and raced for the shop.

The dense cloud tickled my legs as I ran, whipped my hair around me, and I clutched the child tighter, willing the Angels on our side for one damn time.

I sped inside as the force of the cloud hit. We slammed the door on the winds, the walls rattling as it passed, but the sand that had managed to be swept inside with us fell quiet.

I leaned back against the door, panting. The boy shook, but I looked down and steadied my own breath. “What’s your name?”

“Dennon,” he answered in such a trembling voice.

I set him on his feet and crouched to his level. “Do you go to the nearby school, Dennon?”

He shook his head, long bangs drooping into his eyes. “We were going to Father’s stall to bring him home for dinner.”

By we , I assumed he meant his sister and himself. Tolek stood over his shoulder, the girl clutching his leg.

“Once the storm passes, we’ll help you find him.” I looked around the small shop, vacant shelves lining the perimeter. In the center, Jezebel and Erista were gathering the children. “Do you see that girl?” I asked, pointing to Jez, and both Dennon and his sister nodded. “She tells the best stories. Go ask her for one, and I bet by the time she’s done, this little storm will be over.”

They brightened, locking hands as they flew toward Jezebel. I pushed to my feet, blowing out a breath.

“ Little storm?” Tolek asked as sand battered the windows.

“This is because of the emblems,” I whispered, guilt thickening my throat.

Tol shook his head, gaze drifting toward the door. “No, apeagna . The timing lines up, but I have a feeling this is because of something much bigger than your blood on some shards of metal.”

“But during the war, the Rites always coincided with the emblems being used.”

“Yes, but nothing as tainted as this,” he reminded me.

I chewed over that for a moment, watching the children now gathered in the center of the room. Their scared, innocent red eyes and the scratches against soft skin.

And my resolve hardened. “I’m going back out there.”

“You can barely see!”

“Right now, yes.” And I dismissed every misgiving about this decision—every uncertainty about the lengths the magic within me could go, mustering up the courage to flash Tol a smirk. “But if I caused this, I have to have something that can counteract it, too.”

I held up Damien’s emblem, shining around my neck.

Tol’s eyes flicked between the shard and my own, reading the idea from my wicked grin. And though he clung to the verge of asking me not to do this, though he hated every time I was lost to the power of my light, the amber specks in his eyes ignited.

A slow smile spread across his face. “Make it fucking scorch, Revered.”

With his confidence turning my body molten, I tore back into the alley, Tolek guarding my back.

And as we ran, I gathered up all that power ebbing within me from the reading, all the magic I’d been suppressing for weeks, forming six unique strands, and I wove them together.

We sped down the cobblestones, toward the center of that swirling mass of clouds above Lendelli, and charged right into the dense, dark-purple heart.

Then, without a slice to my skin or any form of blood splashing across the emblems, I wrenched up every drop of power and blasted Angellight into the sky.

Golden beams parted the swirling clouds like beacons in the night, melting together into one unstoppable force. The sands warred against the warmth of my magic, sizzling as it burned at their depths.

I dug into my spirit and thought of all those bracing against the repercussions of the unspooling magic across Gallantia. Of those sheltering in this very town, of those ravaged by the fires of Bodymelder Territory or whose food sources were depleted by untethered creatures.

I thought of those forced into smaller, weak positions and those who didn’t deserve the wrath of whatever curse this was.

And I poured all of the rage and hurt and aching in my soul into my Angellight, flooding the storms.

“Alabath!” Tolek yelled as my magic consumed me. As my skin glowed gold and heated, burned , but his hand held steadfast to mine. “How much more will you give?”

Wind whipped my hair around my face. Through gritted teeth, I swore, “As much as it takes.”