Page 34 of The Curse of Ophelia

My horse read my tense energy and budding excitement, exhaling noisily. On my right, Jezebel’s mare, Elektra, returned the huff, her coat and mane gleaming like a bolt of silver, carved from pure lightning.

“It’s now or never,” Tolek whispered from my left.

I looked to where he sat upon his golden mare, Astania. Her brown eyes were the exact shade of the warrior’s atop her, as if they were cut from the same slip of soul. They both turned those deep eyes upon me now, awaiting my signal.

I listened to the forest, the plains, the buzzing of insects and flapping of wings. Birds of morning called to each other as the sun’s pale rays flashed, igniting earth and grass and rock to call us forward. The pin my grandmother had gifted me for my birthday glinted on my chest where I’d forced it through the thick material of my leathers. I covered it with my hand briefly, tapping into the Soulguider heritage I contained, asking for guidance.

Then, I lifted my chin, a faint breeze gracing my cheeks, and inhaled the possibilities on the wind.

“It’s time.”

I nudged Sapphire with my heels, and she crossed the final boundary between our shelter of a city and what lay beyond.

*

The first hours of the trek dragged. The Palermanian sun—no, no longer Palermanian. We had left our home behind. This was the sun of the Wild Plains of the Mystique Territory of Gallantia. And it beat down on us, warm and bright, kissing away my doubt with each stride of the horse beneath me.

I could tell by the way that Sapphire pranced, her head high and tail swishing, that she appreciated the freedom of the open plains. Her muscles flexed and released, the most natural I’d ever felt her move. Every step became longer, more advantageous, seeking the next hill and the next valley.

She was swift, a starborn horse embracing the wild spirit of her heart.

And I sat astride her, following her unrestricted spirit, destiny burning in my veins.

Sapphire let out a high whinny, echoed by the four mares around us, and I called out with her. For the first time in two years, I felt my spirit shimmering within me, alive and wild and healing.

*

“I’ll tie up the horses,” Cyph offered when we stopped at dusk. He extended a hand for Sapphire’s reins, the assortment of daggers strapped to his arms and torso glinting. I’d nearly laughed at how many he brought. But as I’d gathered what I needed for the journey, I’d slid the twin daggers he’d given me into my pack.

I kissed Sapphire’s nose, running my hands through her deep blue mane. She nudged me as she turned, and a wave of understanding passed between us. Sapphire and I, we were one and the same, born to be outside of gates. Tasting the freedom on the air and following the call of the wind.

As she dipped her head to drink from the water Cyph provided, the sunset streaked out from behind wisps of clouds. The fading light turned the sky shades of pale pink and lavender, dancing across her hide, making her appear mythic and giving me a sense of calm.

The first day of our journey had passed easily. We had covered more ground than expected, barely resting until now. All of us had been at ease, free. The hours beside my friends—Tolek and Cypherion sparking debates with Jezebel, Santorina collecting interesting plants, and me savoring it all—had been bliss.

I could only hope for that to continue over the coming days. Though, as I sank into the shadows of the trees and watched tranquil dusk fall to dark night, I reminded myself that peace rarely lasted. And I had a tainted fate awaiting me.

Jezebel and Tolek were pulling food from our packs, setting out a small picnic of bread, cheese, and dried fruits. I leaned against the white wood of a cypher and breathed deeply. The ancient trees of our world, said to have sprouted up many millennia ago when magic first flowed through our land, buzzed against my back in acknowledgment of the power in my own blood. I let my eyes drift closed against the willowing branches to feel that mystical energy more deeply, allow it to support me.

With each step we took out of Palerman, my blood pumped faster, bursting with the world’s energy. A small piece of me remained unsure about abandoning our home without warning, but each minute that passed affirmed my decision. The wind whistled in my ears and along my skin, telling me I belonged here.

This world—our world—called to me.

Only moments of peace lasted before Jezebel’s and Tolek’s voices interrupted my reverie, their sharp tongues lashing out at each other.

“Why, in the name of the Spirit-sent Angels, would you light a fire?” Jezebel questioned, her words harsh but a hint of a laugh hiding behind them.

“Well, I have no intention of freezing my damn balls off tonight. I rather like them.” Rocks scraped together as he attempted to tease embers out of them, grimacing with each failed attempt. For a moment, I enjoyed the site of Tolek not being naturally gifted at something, exchanging a smirk with Cyph and Rina behind his back.

“Yes, why suffer a slight chill when you can attract a violent predator? That would be much preferred.” Jezebel crossed her arms over her chest, the black leather of her training garb turning her body into a shadow in the setting sun.

Tol stopped his tinkering and turned a sharp expression on my sister, his brows rising as he shook his head. “Oh, by the ever-damned Angels,” he muttered. “And just what threats are you expecting us to meet in this grove, Jez?” He was teasing her, a short breath of a chuckle passing through his lips.

But Jezebel’s face turned to stone. “We don’t know everything that lurks beyond those trees, Tolek Vincienzo. These lands are rife with magic. It would be naive to assume otherwise.”

Her eyes were alight, the tawny harboring streaks of gold brighter than Angellight. From my perch against the tree, I shivered at the power in Jezzie’s words, but Tolek did not flinch. He only locked eyes with her.

I bit my lip as I watched their battle of wills. Tolek and I goaded each other, but he and Jezebel had always been worse, tempers clashing like siblings ever since the day my three-year-old sister had grabbed Tolek’s training sword. He, six at the time, had shoved her to the dirt, then immediately went wide-eyed at his action and bent to help her up. Jezzie, to her credit, had grinned and pushed him back. Even then, a deeper understanding passed between them. Maybe it was because they were both secondborn and therefore relieved of many of the pressures first children carried, but it was like they were pieces of a greater game in the universe, moving in tandem.

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