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

Chapter 71

Chapter Seventy-One

Cypherion

Ophelia’s cry was made of pure fury, and I answered the call. Scythe in hand, I was guarding her before I could think.

I lunged in front of Ophelia as she gathered herself on the ground, the fae guards already advancing. The Revered’s teeth were bared, her eyes sharp as daggers on Ritalia. Tolek towered over her, muttering something even as he pulled his sword to defend her. He seemed steady, despite Lancaster’s bargain. Winded and enraged, but alive.

As I swung my scythe behind a fae soldier’s knees and drove the blade into his gut, I couldn’t imagine the pain ripping through Ophelia. Not as she watched the molten silver and gold swirling before her.

I gripped my own sacred weapon tighter and continued to swing with the might of the man who had earned it.

As I took on fae after fae, defending the warriors around me, I channeled the father I didn’t know—the one who earned a blade worthy of the Angels—and I picked off the enemies, my eyes on their queen.

Whatever power Ritalia had used to melt Ophelia’s weapons, she didn’t seem able to do it again. Our side surged toward her guard. Nassik sank into the shadows behind the remaining Engrossian soldiers.

The queen pulled a delicate dagger from her hip, surveying the fight unspooling before her.

One towering fae soldier swung an impossibly sharp, shining sword at me. I pivoted at the last moment, dodging a nasty slice to my ribs. Fuck , they moved like water, evading our blades as if we were simple rocks parting a current.

I brought my scythe down aiming to hook through his neck, but his long sword met the shaft. The impact jarred along my bones. He grinned down at me, canines shining.

“I’ve been waiting centuries to make you warriors bleed,” he hissed.

“Have you?” I taunted, taking a step back to lure him in. To get his guard to falter. “Keep dreaming.” At the last moment, I dropped my scythe, diving away from his blade. Coming up at his side, I swung out, fist meeting his jaw.

It was like steel against my bones, but he staggered.

And while he was recovering from the impact, I took the chance to circle him, unsheathing a small knife from the band at my chest and slicing across his throat.

“Sounds like he needs to dream bigger,” Tolek said, sliding into his rightful place at my side and meeting another guard. His chest heaved with the effort, his skin a bit pale as he sucked down a breath.

Where the fuck was Lancaster with that damn bargain? I’d kill him and end it.

“Or be a bit more original, at least,” Malakai added with a grunt as his own weapon caught a third fae.

I huffed a laugh. “A small-minded people, apparently.”

Out of the corner of my eye, silver glinted. I spun as a fae blade was dropping toward my shoulder?—

But a wall of silver-blue light exploded between us, melting the blade and freezing the fae as he collided with it.

Jezebel stood halfway up the steps, Zanox protecting her. She tossed shields of that myth-born death magic before our side of the fight where our speed wasn’t a match for the fae.

I nodded in thanks, then dove back to the enemy she’d blocked. Jezebel’s magic didn’t kill him. It did shock him, though. Enough for me to slide my sword into his heart.

He crashed to his knees, and I kicked him off my blade, thick crimson dripping to the cave floor.

Amid the fighting, my eyes flashed to Vale. She was braced with her short sword, a matching set of triple-bladed daggers at her hip. Her eyes glazed over for a moment. She was reading every move to know where to jump in next. A starsdamned genius, my Stargirl. I adjusted to stand in front of her while she was vulnerable.

Her magic had been so strong tonight. She told me before the Gates—after that Ascension reading and the Rites—she wanted to try to read more of the Angels, but right now, we needed her present here.

It only took her a split second to gather each reading her Fates were passing to her. Then, with a grimace, she charged at one of the fae.

And while Vale mainly used magic as her weapon, she was not inept with a blade. Far from it. She’d told us that she’d trained at the temple—that every acolyte was required to be sharp in every way that counted—but cursed fucking Angels, I hadn’t expected the swiftness and accuracy to be so enhanced since the last time I’d seen her fight.

It was like with those pieces Titus had stolen, she’d taken the gaping edges around the hollows and honed them. Turned them into a hardened form of what she was before and swore to allow no one to take from her ever again.

In the blink of an eye, she launched a dagger at a fae across the cavern with his eyes set on Santorina. The three blades were a blur of silver as they spun, slicing across his neck.

“That’s my fucking Stargirl!” I shouted, fighting to keep my attention on the fae advancing on me.

Barrett, Dax, and Celissia were weaving their way among the pointed-eared bastards with non-lethal blows. Enough to give the rest of us an opening, but their true target was clear: Nassik and the three Engrossian soldiers shielding him.

Over the chaos of finding my next opponent, I called to Malakai, “Mila?”

“Khrysaor” was all he grunted in response as he parried his attacker. One glance up to the theater seats showed a still-unconscious figure beneath Dynaxtar’s wing.

The sphinx perched at the highest step, watching ruin unfold below, but Sapphire…

“Cursed Spirits,” I murmured.

The pegasus flared her wings, no longer bleeding, and pranced impatiently in place. She may be a mythical creature, but she bore the heart of a warrior horse. And her distressed eyes were on her rider.

“Ritalia!” Ophelia shouted over the clashing of weapons. “If you want to rain blood on our soil, let it be your own.” Ophelia pulled her lone remaining dagger—the one I’d gifted her for her birthday last year—from her thigh.

She’d take the queen on with nothing more than that. And as her Second, I’d hold the line.

“Tolek, Malakai,” I barked, “flank me! Form a perimeter.”

They fell into line, Tolek determined despite Lancaster’s bargain. He’d guard Ophelia to his dying breath.

“Lyria,” I instructed, “on your brother’s side. Vale, Santorina, and Erista, in line.”

At the edge of the skirmish, Lancaster and Mora waited, tension vibrating through their bodies. The former’s eyes were trained on Tolek, watching for…I didn’t know. A sign of the death he promised? A fatal string to pull?

Tolek continued to fight, panting through every strike. Nothing would get him to drop his guard in front of Ophelia—not even magic.

“Jezebel!” I spared a glance to the younger Alabath, but it wasn’t necessary. She dove into the spirits of those falling around us. There were no myths here for her to slay, but Jez was manifesting shields of silver-blue light before us, blocking close calls. She threw one behind Erista as a fae charged at her back, and the male’s body froze as he hit it. Like the deathly power Jezebel wielded was enough to pause his magic.

Ritalia called back to Ophelia, “You are making fatal mistakes, Revered.”

A female fae nearly taller than I was charged at me. Swinging my scythe to my back, I pulled my sword and caught her blow. The metal sang as it met again, but I planted my feet and braced my arms to absorb the force.

“Why?” Ophelia spat, pacing behind us like a caged nemaxese, no doubt searching for a place to infiltrate the solid fae guard. “What is so wrong about warriors claiming our full power? About freeing a deity who is wrongfully imprisoned?”

I blocked another blow, leaning into the female. She staggered back a step, and I didn’t hesitate, ripping a knife from my side and jamming it in her neck.

Around me, Tolek and Malakai each brought down another guard.

I didn’t allow myself to feel guilty for the faeries falling. Their spirits would never find rest thanks to the cypher trees I was named for, but they chose that risk in attacking us. Ritalia condemned them to that fate in burning Ophelia’s weapons.

“You cannot say he’s wrongfully imprisoned without knowing the full story!” Ritalia shouted back, her voice strangled.

“Then, tell me!” Ophelia pleaded, tear tracks still shining on her cheeks. “Tell me the truth so I can decide if this must be done. Because from where I stand, there is no other option .”

“I cannot .”

Because the fae Goddess’s part of the magic that forged the prison kept everyone from speaking of it.

Behind Ritalia, Dax took down two Engrossians with an ax each, leaving only one between them and Nassik.

“Why would your Goddess put such restrictions on you if not for her own advantage?” Ophelia growled, clearly frustrated, but that beseeching undertone layered her words. “Why wouldn’t she want you to be able to tell us whatever it is that might convince us not to free the Warrior God? Why are we constantly left in the fucking dark, as toys and playthings for the deities?”

And that was the root of the frustration for all of us, but Ophelia especially. The answers we hadn’t been given, the lies we’d been fed. Her strings had been pulled again and again, taking away any choice she had.

My blades met the advancing fae, our line inching back under their strength. The stone behind us was looming uncomfortably close. Would they demolish the statue if given the chance?

Fuck those gods for condemning us to this , I thought as I met fae swords repeatedly.

If they hadn’t locked away the Warrior God and the Angels, perhaps we’d be on level footing in this fight. Perhaps the feuds wouldn’t even be happening if power was equal across Ambrisk.

I’d never considered that deities could feel something as mortal as fear, but it was likely what drove their decision. And in that, the known gods sentenced the fae and warriors alike to a life of brutal warfare and prejudices.

I ducked around my opponent and jammed a knife between his ribs.

It was almost ironic, I thought, as I feinted against the next guard, that the Angels and gods were supposed to be the beings we prayed to for comfort, and yet they rained nothing but torment upon our lives.

Upon both of the rulers facing off verbally in this theater in the mountains.

And as they hurled their arguments back and forth, weapons ringing between each word, it became clear how this night would end.

With one dead queen or another.

With restless fae spirits roaming Gallantia, and perhaps, if I could get closer to Ritalia, with more than one prophecy fulfilled.