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

Chapter 67

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Ophelia

Sapphire was falling, crimson streaking the air from her wing, and my heart sank to the bottom of my stomach.

“They fucking shot her!” I yelled, voice tearing through the wind. My hand locked around Tolek’s wrist at my waist as we careened toward the rocky floor.

Sapphire’s pain shot through my body like it was my own, her agonized cry ripping out a piece of my spirit. The gap flooded with rage.

Tolek shouted back, “ Who? ”

I didn’t need to answer. We both knew who.

Tolek’s arms tightened around me as the ground loomed closer.

“Catch yourself, girl!” I yelled to my horse. And, not wanting her to worry about saving us in the landing, Tolek and I dove as Sapphire’s hooves clattered against stone. We rolled across rock, my skin scraping and stinging, but that didn’t matter. In the mountains, a surface level wound would heal in minutes.

I jumped up, Tolek covering my back and scanning the ceiling-less cavern as I raced toward my pegasus, tossing an orb of Angellight in the air to see by. In its golden glow, Zanox, Dynaxtar, and the sphinx landed with echoing booms.

One of Sapphire’s wings draped across the ground, her beautiful feathers stained a deadly red, and an onyx arrow pierced the tip.

Looking into her eye I whispered, “I’m going to fix it, Sapphire. I promise. I’m going to make it feel better. But it might hurt for a moment first.”

She blinked, not even making a sound, like she understood what I meant.

“Need help?” Rina asked, appearing at my side, her wrist wrapped and cradled against her chest. The rest of the group surrounded us, weapons drawn and waiting for the attackers to expose themselves.

“Keep her calm,” I said. My heart pounded against my bones, hands threatening to shake, but with precise, quick movements, I tugged the arrow free and sent a burst of healing Angellight into Sapphire’s wing. She jerked, but Rina held her face, whispering soothing sounds.

The gold tunneled into my pegasus even faster than it had Mora. Closing my eyes, I felt down into that source and tugged each of the seven threads, spinning a web through Sapphire’s damaged wing. It stitched back together beneath my fingers, each slowed drop of blood siphoning off my panic.

“I apologize for that,” a clear, commanding voice rang out. “But we could not let you go any further.”

I whirled, drawing my sword, and met the shrewd, remorseless eyes of the fae queen, her form emerging from the rocky cavern wall as her glamour slowly peeled away.

“Ritalia,” I growled. Stepping in front of the others, my panic solidified into iron fury. “A simple hello would have done fine.”

She materialized entirely, her full gold gown out of place, the rubies of her rose diadem gleaming as red as Sapphire’s blood in the shimmering Angellight. Her locks were coiled atop her head, her hands were folded primly in front of her. No amount of fae magic could convince me she fired that shot herself.

And as I watched the final trickles of her glamour fall, I thought of how Brystin had mentioned her facade and realized how she’d pulled this off.

“Is it truly you this time?” I spat. Tolek and Cypherion flanked me, the latter scanning the cavern and shifting in front of Vale.

“Clever warrior queen,” Ritalia cooed. “You finally realized your mistake.”

I scoffed. “Too late, it appears. I will be sure to include no glamours in my next bargain.” With Starfire, I gestured to Mora. “It was her wasn’t it? That day we made the bargain, Mora glamoured another fae of your court to look like you and strike the deal with me. And when Cypherion arrived, in all of our panic, you took her place to tell us to leave immediately.”

Brystin’s warning against trusting based on what we see echoed through my memory.

I went on, “Whoever took your place was very careful to only strike deals with the word I . And that’s why I had to drink something to seal it, right? It was your magic entwined in that cup, so I was beholden to you, but only her words upheld the fae end.”

“Very observant,” Ritalia complemented.

It was as crafty as the fae had always been rumored. Loopholes in bargains be damned, they’d used magic against us.

I gripped Starfire’s hilt tighter. “Where are the rest of your party? Will they drop their glamours, or will you fight us like cowards?”

“Who said we’re here to fight?” the queen challenged. “Let us resolve this mess peacefully, Revered.”

“Perhaps that was possible before you impaled my horse ?—”

“I believe you mean pegasus,” she interrupted. “It seems you’ve kept many secrets, Child Kissed by Angels.”

I wasn’t naive enough to believe this was the first she’d heard of the woken myths, but I didn’t give in to that game.

“And it seems you’ve told many half-truths, Bloodthirsty Queen.” I assessed the air around her, but not so much as a flicker exposed how many guards she’d brought.

A cruel smile that reminded me so much of Kakias’s—but with less deranged motive—broke across Ritalia’s lips. And from the stone wall beside her, a second form emerged. With a wolf limping at his side.

“ Father? ” Celissia’s accusatory tone sliced through the theater as Barrett blurted in a panic, “ Rebel! ”

“Fucking Angels,” slipped from Malakai’s lips behind me, an unconscious Mila protected behind the khrysaor.

“Hello, Celissia,” Nassik said, the picture of calm. Rebel bared his teeth in a vicious growl toward the councilman. Nassik’s answering flinch was satisfying.

“I knew you were a snake,” Barrett insisted, voice venomous. “I knew you were slithering through my own home, plotting against me and my appointment, but this? And what did you do to Rebel?” At his name, the wolf looked toward his prince, adoration in those large eyes.

“He is fine,” Nassik drawled. “A clumsy pup.”

Behind the Engrossians, hands still tied and held in Dax’s white-knuckled grip, Brystin chuckled. “I warned you.”

“Did you now?” Ritalia snapped, voice the high cruelty of a ruler used to being obeyed.

Brystin shrugged, unfazed. “Only toyed with them a bit, Your Majesty.”

And Ritalia smiled, long, sharp canines on display. “Excellent work.” Her gaze shifted to Lancaster and Mora, to their very unbound wrists. To how Lancaster stood amid our group, and how Mora remained beside Dynaxtar.

In one swoop, Queen Ritalia catalogued every detail of the scene, and her lips twisted into a sneer, eyes flaming. “I see you two have made yourselves comfortable. What would your mother say?”

Their mother?

Both fae stood straighter, Lancaster’s hands clenching at his sides. “We’ve done what was asked. We’ve kept an eye on the cursed warrior”—he jerked his head toward me—“and on the one who bears the name of the pro?—”

“I understand what I asked!” Ritalia snapped. “What I don’t recall is ordering you to become so…familiar with the warriors. Or the human.” Her sharp stare cut to Santorina. “Though, Queen of Bounties, you seem to have done a poor job honoring your heritage.”

“I claim no heritage that has any entanglement with your kind,” Rina condemned.

The bloodletting queen smiled. “We do not choose our path, Queen of Bounties. It is written for us.”

“A rather sorry excuse for the ruin you have brought upon the centuries.”

“Much like you,” Ritalia said, unbothered, “I have not had a choice in all matters of my hand. Let’s hope you do not learn how that feels.”

Santorina wasn’t budging.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, taking another step forward to form a barrier between my friends and the queen.

Barrett stepped beside me. Two clan rulers against a threat. “What are you doing with him ?” He meant Nassik, but Barrett only had eyes for his wolf beside the advisor. So much larger than when I last saw the pup, Rebel sat with one gangly paw slightly elevated.

Ire twisted through me—radiated from Barrett, too—but I inhaled and tried to steady myself before the queen. To not be caught off guard again.

When Brystin showed up, Mora said that Ritalia would only adjust her plans for extreme circumstances, that the queen had learned to be patient over the centuries.

Perhaps her circumstances hadn’t changed, but her opportunities had.

“You invited her to Gallantia, didn’t you?” I accused Nassik. “Which one of you contacted the other?”

“Nassik wrote to me.” That betrayal sank like a rock through our group. “He offered me passage through your land, and thanks to rumors from your ancestor, Revered—thanks to the letters he wrote to the fae asking for aid with the very curse you bare—I knew of this spot within the mountains.”

Annellius had…asked the fae to help? Clearly, those rulers hadn’t answered as Ritalia did. They hadn’t appeased whatever plea he sent, so he re-hid the emblems instead, to become a problem for a future Alabath.

The inferno in my gut roared.

“And you claim you want to help us now?” I asked.

Ritalia nodded, but before she could answer, Celissia’s voice sliced through the cavern. “How could you, Father?” Her sharp stare narrowed. “These are our people!” She pointed at Barrett. “ He is our king!”

“He may be your friend, but that does not mean he is fit to rule.”

“He’s more fit than his mother ever was! And the kings before her.” Nassik blanched—whether at his daughter’s tone or her knowledge, it wasn’t clear. “Yes, father, I know the histories. I was not sipping tea all day in the citadel for the past decade.”

Nassik’s eyes narrowed. “How much did you learn?”

“I learned of all the great Engrossian battles and who led them—how the dynasties crumbled. I studied the most innovative healing practices and found I had quite an affinity for them.”

“Did you now?” Nassik asked, voice tight.

“I did.” Celissia stood taller, strength radiating from her as she stepped in front of Barrett. “And because it is so unusual for our clan to take to healing as well as I did, my tutor helped me delve into the family line. We thought perhaps there was Bodymelder blood somewhere generations ago.”

Nassik scoffed. “Must be a distant relative.”

“Don’t play dumb, Father.” Her eyes flashed to Ritalia, then back. “You’ve already proven that you are; you don’t need to act it on this account as well.”

“Celissia!” he blubbered.

But Barrett tore his eyes from his wolf and stood beside his queen-to-be. Celissia nodded at him, and Barrett declared to the room. “Celissia’s healing practice is not aided by Bodymelder blood. It is sorcia.”

“ Sorcia? ” I gasped. Even Ritalia’s eyes widened in surprise. Sorcia bloodlines hardly ever escaped their northern isles.

“That’s why you were so advanced,” Santorina echoed. “Your healing was so fluid, like another force at work, and you were able to help Vale come out of her reading in the seeing chamber when no one else could.” The Starsearcher looked between Rina and Celissia, gratitude in her wide eyes. “It’s not just any old, ancient bloodline in your family.”

Celissia nodded, then turned a sharp stare back to her father. “We have sorcia blood. And sorceress magic can be very instrumental in healing practices. And he knew all this time.”

Barrett knew, as well, the two clear in their united front, as if this was something they’d discussed and planned for. A secret they meant to wield.

“Now you see, dear,” Nassik said. “Now you see why, when I learned that the fae were on the outskirts of our continent, poised to challenge such a dark and devastating threat as the Mystique Revered poses, I had to answer the call.”

Celissia looked down her nose at the man. “No, I do not see .”

“What she is trying to do here”—he flung a finger at me—“it will harm everyone on Ambrisk, the gods included. It is no longer only a warrior battle, but one that challenges even our sorcia line.”

“The sorcia are secluded,” I argued. “They claim no part in any war we have fought.”

Nassik glared at me. “This would devastate them regardless.”

Celissia asked, “So you chose a line we barely know over the blood of those you have helped rule for nearly a century? Over those you work beside, live beside?” She shook her head, black waves shimmering down her back. “No, Father, I will not be like you. I will not stand for this.”

Celissia whipped her head toward me. “Don’t listen to them, Ophelia! No matter what poison they spew, finish what we came here for.”

Ritalia scoffed. “Enough of your petty arguments! None of you warriors truly understand the threat here.” And then, Ritalia’s voice snapped like a whip as she said, “Hunter!”

Lancaster’s body tensed, a growl slipping through his lips.

“Beautiful,” she observed. “Now, enact?—”

“ NO! ” And it was Santorina’s voice that sliced through the queen’s attempt to command a bargain from Lancaster. Santorina’s throw of a blade that drowned out the queen’s orders. With her injured wrist, her aim was off. The weapon soared inches away from Lancaster’s heart and over his shoulder.

The male merely stared at her—at the Queen of Bounties who would have taken his life rather than allow him to call on his bargain—his dark eyes pools of intensity.

The cavern erupted, a dozen fae soldiers bursting from their glamoured positions along the walls and diving toward Rina. Warriors swept before her, meeting their blows. Engrossian axes whirled through the mix. Clashes and scrapes of metal drowned out the bargain order Ritalia tried to enact, and Zanox and Dynaxtar launched into the air above it all.

Rina spun and shoved me toward Sapphire. “Go, Ophelia! Tolek, go with her!”

Tol pulled me toward my pegasus, her blood-streaked wing now blessedly healed thanks to the Angellight.

“We can’t leave you!” I yelled.

“Alabath, we have to,” Tol argued, shoving me onto Sapphire. “ You have to!”

“You’re the only ones who can finish this!” Celissia added as Tol hopped up behind me.

“We can help here!” I called over a shoulder.

But I met Rina’s determined stare. She gave me one tight-lipped nod, the certainty behind it saying more than words ever could.

They would do this. They would defend the mountains against the fae even if it meant their lives, while Tolek and I flew on to finish the task assigned by the Angels.

And it was Rina’s and Celissia’s shouts of encouragement—a human born to slay fae and an Engrossian with sorcia blood—pounding in my ears in time with Sapphire’s hooves as we sped down the tunnel, their voices shouting the hopes of the warriors.