Page 73 of The Curse of Ophelia

“Another thing I cannot discuss.”

Disappointment swept through me, cold and fast. But again, I tucked away that piece of information.

“Let’s get this over with, Annellius,” Hectatios growled, as if he had another appointment.

I looked at the Spirit, his silver hair flowing long down his back. With a cut jaw, full lips, and large eyes, one might have described him as beautiful—should he not have opened his mouth.

I braced my hands on my hips. “Why are you so rude? Is it not your duty to guide me?”

Hectatios’s chest swelled at my words, hands clenched. I swore I saw Annellius smirk out of the corner of my eye, but I would not break my stare from Hectatios. “How dare you—”

“She’s feisty,” Glawandin trilled. “I’d like to keep her.”

“She shares your fire, Hectatios,” Annellius snickered. “By all means, begin.”

Hectatios held out his hands and a veil lowered over the four of us, dimming the lights and heat of the flames. Annellius continued to watch me. At his side Glawandin stared at nothing, a pleasant smile brightening her face.

Hectatios spoke, his voice booming around us, the harsh tones amplified. “You began with hate in your heart. A cord of discord threatening to crush you. Now, you face us with a clearer mind because of this. What is it?”

I blinked at the Spirit. “What?”

“What is it?” Hectatios repeated each word distinctly.

“I have no forsaken clue what you’re talking about,” I retorted, heated frustration creeping into my voice.

“Ophelia,” Annellius’s voice was calming, his eyes understanding. “Think.”

Think. What good would that do me? I looked between the Spirits, attempting to grasp whatever hidden meanings their words held. This part of the Undertaking was meant to determine your mental strength. This was neither physical nor emotional, but purely knowledge based. A trial for your mind, reaching into the depths of your brain to revive the cunning within yourself and hone that skill for any challenge a warrior may face.

The tundra and the ascent of the switchbacks—that was physical. The next portion I could only guess would be emotional. But this phase, this was when the Spirits tested your mental will, dedication, and ability.

I must think.

Anger bubbled up in my chest as I repeated Hectatios’s words in my head. Hate in my heart…if anyone here had hate in their heart it was the silver-haired Spirit, not me. The way he watched me with smug eyes and a set jaw, his unrelenting rage poised to tackle me should I fail his test. Fury stirred within my gut, accusations working their way up my throat.

It was a fury I had not felt since…

I looked at the Spirit again. That expression on his face…I knew it well. The narrowed eyes, the angry exhales, the gritted teeth. It was one I had worn for two years.

And I understood Hectatios’s purpose here. He reflected me. My darkest parts when I walked through the world letting the anger printed on my soul decide my every action. Rage at the universe for the fate that had befallen me. Distantly, I wondered what had happened to the silver-haired warrior to damage his heart as deeply as mine.

You face us with a clearer mind because of this. That was the answer I needed to find. There were endless possibilities, and I considered each as I paced the veined floor of the volcano. Patience, compassion, strength…they all were solutions to what I had faced. Each trait flourished in my heart, attempting to repair what was broken inside of me.

It seemed impossible that there was only one answer.

I stopped in my tracks and looked at Hectatios, deciding I needed to start somewhere. “Acceptance,” I blurted out.

His eyes narrowed further if possible. “No.”

“Patience, compassion, strength,” I continued down the growing list in my head.

“No,” he echoed. When I added three more guesses, he continued to deny me.

I threw my arms up. “But those are all pieces of me that got me here. How can none of them be correct?”

Now, a smile cut across Hectatios’s beautiful face, and something shifted in his expression. That was approval dancing in his eyes. “Ah, you are looking inward. Perhaps, try the opposite.”

The opposite, I thought, resuming my pacing. I ran my hands through my hair. I wished I had a rope to redirect the twitching energy within me and steady myself, but I had only my wit to rely on.

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