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

Chapter 57

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Cypherion

“You remember that prophecy your queen is so afraid of?” I kept one hand on my horse, Erini, and my voice emotionless. “Stop talking or my count of fae lives taken won’t end with the royal line.”

“But what’s the point of so many blades?” Brystin nagged again. By the fucking Spirits, he was relentless. The howling desert night air was a better sound than his voice.

“You carry your own weapons,” I responded without looking at him. I hadn’t given in to his incessant questioning since the others left, and I wouldn’t now. “If you have to ask, then perhaps you’re using them wrong.”

His answering smile was evil. “I am a weapon myself. I carry a few, but not so many.”

I turned a blank stare on him, saying in a flat voice, “That’s foolish of you.”

“Is it foolish?” He tilted his head, pretending to wonder. “Or is it a well-honed tactic to disarm my opponents with my lack of protection? Surely, we could find out right now.” He held out his tied wrists. “If you want.”

I sighed with a shake of my head, not exasperated in the slightest. “You can try to deter me all you want, but my best friend is Tolek Vincienzo.”

Brystin sneered. “I don’t want to become your friend.”

“I wasn’t offering.”

“Then why mention it?”

“Because I’ve become an expert at chatter as a means of distraction, and I certainly won’t fall for any of your tricks.”

Barrett and Dax snickered. Even Lancaster, sitting in the sand with his elbows propped on his knees, added, “Cypherion has a point. That Vincienzo warrior is insufferable when he wants to be.”

“See,” I said to Brystin. “Half of my life has been spent with Tolek. I can tolerate your games.”

Brystin smiled an infuriating, smooth grin, but I tugged the rope attached to his wrists until he stumbled again and redirected my attention back toward the gates Vale had disappeared through.

Behind me, Barrett picked up bantering with the fae prisoner. A worthy opponent, as Dax’s occasional interjections reminded him. Where Brystin appeared to be trying to win with cool control, Barrett was wilder. Willing to say whatever would sway the argument.

Currently, he debated the male over whether warriors or fae made better candies.

Fine by me. Freed up my time babysitting to watch the Gates.

Malakai and Tolek wouldn’t let anything happen to Vale. Ophelia wouldn’t either. They’d all proved in rescuing her that she was embedded into our family as much as anyone else.

But fucking Spirits, last time we attempted something in a historic site like this, Vale and I had been in the Valyn archives. She’d fallen into her most consuming reading ever, and Titus captured us. The scars lingering on my mind from that night had yet to fade. And she’d been consumed by the Fates all night.

“I have a feeling Vale will not only be safe in there, but she’ll serve a purpose with that magic of hers,” Celissia said, approaching my side with her eyes trained on the structure behind the wall.

“What do you mean?”

Celissia gave a small smirk that was so much like Barrett’s, they could have been siblings, but hers was softer. “Call it intuition.”

I blew out a breath. Vale and Celissia seemed to have bonded since meeting. Perhaps it was because they were both newcomers to our tight-knit group—though they were eagerly welcomed, it had to be an adjustment. And Celissia had a way about her that made you want to like her.

“What’s wrong over there?” I asked, inclining my head to where Mora sat with her back against the alabaster wall, one hand stroking Dynaxtar, the other holding one of Valyrie’s scrolls.

Celissia’s lips twisted to the side, and she dropped her voice. “That injury is still plaguing her. The arm is losing function by the day.”

I blinked at the fae. At the way she kept her injured arm cradled to her chest, but casually so. “Why didn’t she say anything?”

“She doesn’t want to frighten her brother. His magic isn’t helping, for whatever reason. Santorina and I have been doing what we can, but I worry it may not be enough.”

“She’ll die?” I barely muttered, but the others were loud enough that none of the fae could hear.

“Not if I can help it.”

The possibility twisted through me with surprising sadness. I may not have known Mora well, but she’d done nothing but help my friends. She’d fought by their side in the final battle against Kakias and in the catacombs.

Sure, she had orders from her queen to obey, but Mora presented such a genuine front, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she helped us all on her own.

Celissia’s eyes were on Mora as she said with a curious air, “There’s more to them than we know. I can tell.”

“Why do you think that?” I asked.

“Because there’s more to me, as well.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant, but she had an interesting background, from studying in the citadel to her father’s house. There had to be secrets to her. “It’s been good for Santorina to have someone besides our incompetent asses around.”

Celissia laughed. “You’re all very skilled in other areas. It’s been interesting watching your unit function as a group these weeks.”

“How so?” I asked, as the chatter behind us picked up.

“You’re all strong fighters and intelligent minds, but you excel in very different areas. Or perhaps you prefer slightly different subjects.” She shook her head, waving off the distinction. “You balance each other. Much in the way ether winds through the world to ensure the balance of power, your group instills harmony.”

I swallowed past a thick throat. “We do.”

And if one person was removed from that carefully-crafted machine, the balance was lost. I watched the gates again.

“What in the name of Bant’s golden cock are you on about now?” Barrett blurted with a laugh.

Brystin groaned. Somehow, the prince had turned the fae into the exasperated one. “You cannot truly believe your magic is that defensive?”

Celissia and I faced the pair. Dax, Lancaster, and Mora all observed at a safe distance, equally amused. Except Lancaster. His face remained as impassive as ever.

“You’ve exposed the cyphers as being a path to harming the fae.” Barrett waved a hand at the injury in the male’s shoulder, still bleeding slowly. “The land of Gallantia is against you.”

“But you do not know how to use it. In our culture, words are the sharpest weapons.”

I stiffened. “What are you saying?”

Brystin flashed me another of those infuriating smirks. One that had the hair on the back of my neck standing and said, I’m glad you finally caught on. This was getting so boring . “You truly think a simple bargain is keeping my queen off your land? Imagine the facade…”

Mora’s head snapped up, worry widening her eyes.

Facade?

“What kind of facade?” I snapped, grabbing Brystin by the collar. He smiled cruelly at Mora, and her face drained of color.

Facade…Glamour.

Shoving Brystin back against a tree, I snarled. “What the fuck did your queen do?”

Dax and Barrett jumped on the fae, interrogating him to pick through his half-truths and evasions.

“Ophelia,” I growled, whirling back toward the gates as a storm rumbled through my chest, “hurry the fuck up with that emblem.”

Because it seemed we had much more immediate problems brewing.