Page 32 of The Curse of Ophelia

I swung toward him, lips parting on a shout—he had been the one I was counting on for support. But he was smiling.

“I dare say we could use a bit more foolishness in our lives.” He grinned at me with mischief dancing in his chocolate eyes, the fire emphasizing the strong cut of his jaw beneath his stubble, and I smiled back.

“This is not a time for jokes, Tolek,” Rina argued, breaking our trance. “Do you understand what Ophelia is suggesting?”

“Yes, Santorina, she has painted the quest quite clearly. I did not find it hard to follow, did you? Are you feeling all right?” Leave it to Tolek to lighten the mood when I was confessing an unbelievable appearance of the First Revered in my bedroom and my decision to attempt a life-threatening, forbidden ritual.

Rina’s answering glare could cut glass. “Why do you indulge her reckless ideas?” she muttered.

“I rather like Ophelia’s mind.”

“Mm-hmm, is that—”

Cypherion rose and moved to stand between Santorina and Tolek. “We have bigger problems than your bickering.” He placed a hand on Rina’s shoulder and guided her back as I did the same for Tol.

“Cyph is right. Lay your arguments aside.” The authority in my voice shocked even me. The two continued to glare at each other, Tol’s nostrils flaring with heated exhales, but neither spoke.

“Ophelia, let’s assume that you do successfully complete the Undertaking and become a full warrior,” Cyph began.

“I will complete it.”

He nodded, placating me. “Yes. What then? How does becoming an ascended warrior solve anything?”

Rina looked between us, mouthing thank you to Cypherion.

“I do not know exactly,” I admitted. Before Rina could voice the victory that crossed her face, I continued, “But I am sure that it will open the path to whatever is right.” I took a breath. “None of you faced Damien. The words he said to me…they hummed through my body. My blood knew that he spoke the truth.” As did the energy I had gained from the spear. “That this is my duty as a warrior. I understand that this is a ridiculous claim I’m making, but it doesn’t feel that way within me. I must do this.” I would do it, with or without their support.

“You choose to follow this path on blind faith?” Rina still sounded dubious, but her eyes softened, and I appreciated her challenge. She always tempered my impulsive decisions.

“I do. But not blind faith. Faith in the Angels.”

Rina’s eyes heated, and I only felt slightly guilty for using the Angels—a faith system of the warriors—against her.

“Believe in the Angels, be guided by the Spirits, and align with the stars,” Tolek whispered the ancient quote of the warriors. Not only the Mystiques, but all seven clans, before mistrust had torn us apart. The words sent a bolt of hope through my body.

Cyph swallowed, his throat bobbing with the uncertainty in the air. “And what of Malakai?”

I had been waiting for them to broach the subject of the Angel’s second message. Your deepest wish awaits.

“If he’s not…We don’t know where he may be. Where would you start?” Cypherion urged. Whether he was eager to strategize for my mission or attempting to dissuade me, I was still unsure.

“I’ll ask the Spirits,” I stated matter-of-factly. I had been raising the same question myself, but in that moment, when Cyph asked, the answer sprang to my lips, as if guided by another force.

No one could argue. The power of what I said hung in the air as rain pounded against the tin roof over our heads, each drop piercing the tension in the room. Flame cast shadows on the wood-paneled walls as I studied the rug beneath my feet. The red-and-brown pattern was faded from years of Rina pacing in front of the fire. Now, I assumed her position, rubbing the spot on my wrist where the Curse hid beneath my velvet sleeve. With its stagnant progress, it was safe to assume that I would have a few more days to conquer this journey than I originally thought, but I needed to move swiftly.

Two years ago, a victim would have been dead within the week. There was nothing I could do against fate, but I would fight with every ounce of power within me to prolong it. To complete this quest, restore the Mystiques as Damien implied, and find Malakai.

And if I was meant to die, I’d greet death with a wicked smile.

“I’ll leave at dawn,” I whispered under my breath, watching my feet pace in circles before the fire. “It will be best to stick to the forest and deserted plains. Perhaps along the Solistine River once I meet it.” I pictured the layout of our territory. The snaking strip of water flowed from the mountains in the north, across our land, until it crossed into the Seawatchers’ eastern shores and finally emptied into the Neptitian Sea. If I traveled west, I should meet the river within a few days, and I could follow its path north from there.

“Once I’m out of Palerman, it will be best to avoid other Mystique towns.” Though I hated to admit it, I was recognizable among our people, and I didn’t know who may try to stop me. Riding through the forests and groves of cypher trees and crossing empty fields would be a less risky path than stopping in cities for shelter.

I nodded as the path painted itself into my mind. “If I ride hard and take Sapphire, I can cut days off the journey. Perhaps arrive in ten. That may be enough time, I hope—”

“Why are you behaving as if you will be embarking on this journey alone?” Tol narrowed his eyes, no hint of his usual whimsy visible. He stood with his hands behind his back, but his shoulders were tense, jaw clenched.

I straightened. “Because I am.”

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