Page 68 of The Curse of Ophelia

He brushed a gentle kiss to the top of my head, then each of my cheeks, and finally my lips. There was an urgency in the sweep of his tongue against mine. One that I returned, though I didn’t quite understand it. All I knew was that despair in my gut and the tears stinging my eyes and his lips against mine, hungry and frantic.

Too quickly, he pushed away from me, taking slow steps backward toward his horse.

He walked away, and though I had every reason to believe he would return to me, my world shifted. I had felt the planet spinning beneath my feet with each beat of his heart, and when the tips of his fingers broke from mine, the world froze.

I became aimless, swimming through a dark sea without my North Star to guide me home.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Present Day

The venture through that swirling mist of embers and ashes was treacherous. Smoke stung my eyes and clouded my nostrils, making the narrow switchbacks that protruded from the side of the Spirit Volcano even more precarious. I placed one foot directly in front of the other, toe to heel, not daring to look down. Not wanting to see where the soot floated past my feet and to the earth below. If I did, I was sure I wouldn’t be able to see the ground through the haze.

Before hiking the cramped pathways curving through the rocky surface like a snake winding up the mountain, we had all looked to Cypherion. To where his hands draped around Jezebel’s and Tolek’s shoulders for support. He had looked directly at me, predicting the argument I was about to make. “I’m coming” was all he said, his jaw set and stare hard. He removed his arms from my sister and Tol and put his full weight on his own two feet.

His knee buckled slightly.

“Cypherion, this is a horribly dangerous idea. You cannot climb that.” Hundreds of feet above, the volcano released a shower of sparks when I pointed at it.

“And when has a horribly dangerous idea ever stopped any of us?” he countered, taking uneven yet determined steps toward the entrance to the switchbacks.

Uncertainty burned through me. “But this is different. One wrong shift and you’ll fall to your death.”

“I could say that about any of you,” he argued, turning back to me and crossing his arms. His stare—so hard, so assertive, so unlike himself—seared me.

“We didn’t nearly become paralyzed,” Tolek snapped. Cyph glared at him, eyes flicking to the bandage holding Tol’s leathers around his scarred leg, and Tolek quieted.

“Cyph, it is not a show of weakness to stay,” my sister announced.

I latched on to her support. “If anything, it’s a show of strength.” To admit when he was hurt, to admit needing help.

“Ophelia, as you like to remind us, we have no input in your decisions.” His words stung, but they rang true. How many times these past two years had I made that message very clear? “I have made my own decisions from a young age. I will not sit by, running my hands through the ashes down here while you all risk your lives.”

I had no argument, so I chose the truth. “I just want to protect you.”

His eyes softened. “I understand. And we, you. So, we must remain together.” He staggered to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s ask our healer what her professional opinion is.”

Rina, wringing her hands, scoffed. “Finally.” She looked at me. “I believe if he’s careful, he will be fine.”

That had been that. We put Cypherion in the center of our line, behind Jezebel and in front of Tolek, whose leg had mercifully healed almost completely in the hours on the tundra. Rina brought up the rear, and I led our journey up the switchbacks.

Ashes drifted before me, each step treacherous as loose pebbles rolled beneath my boots, smoke fighting to get into my lungs. I was unable to shake Cypherion’s words from my mind. I have made my own decisions from a young age. Though he shouldn’t have been, he was correct, and the thought of such a lonely young boy angered me for an entirely different reason.

But he was capable of taking care of himself. I had to acknowledge that, bite back my arguments, and support him. It was not in my nature, but dammit I was trying.

I smiled to myself at the challenge, but my foot landed on an unstable stretch of rock. The world shifted beneath me as a two-foot-long gap in the switchback went tumbling to the ground.

I didn’t even have time to register the danger before a small but steady hand gripped my elbow, shoving me against the wall. A sharp rock bit into my back as I caught my breath, the tender wound in my side flaring. Through my shredded leathers, a drop of blood slipped down my side.

“You’re okay,” Jezebel comforted, rubbing my arm. She looked to my freshly opened wound and winced. “Sorry about that, but do watch your step, sister.”

I looked down the line of my friends, wide eyes peering back through the smoke. “I’m sorry. I…” My eyes landed on Cyph, where he stood with both hands digging into the rock, white knuckles the only sign of his strain. “I…got distracted. It won’t happen again.”

Jezebel nodded, tawny eyes bright in her soot-stained face.

“We’re glad you didn’t plummet to the earth, but this does pose a new problem.” Tolek coughed. He nodded at the two-foot-long gap that now broke our pathway. Smaller rocks crumbled from its edge, bouncing down into the smoke. The echoes of their fall mingled with the crackles from above, forming a sinister cacophony. I flinched at each sharp note.

“It’s not too large. We can make it.” Jezebel wiped a hand across her eyes, red from the smoke.

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