Page 51 of The Curse of Ophelia

I met Cypherion’s eyes, the blue wavering with worry. He offered me the reins, saying he would assist Tolek, but I nodded at him to continue. I needed to be close to Tol, to provide guidance through these bleak days. Steady him as he did for me.

“Talk to me about something else,” Tolek coaxed.

I considered for a moment, watching sunlight stream through the high branches. “You still owe me a birthday present.”

“That I do,” he chortled, but didn’t look at me. “Don’t let me forget.”

“That you think I could makes me feel as though you don’t know me at all,” I teased, pinching his side.

He squirmed, leaning into me as he stumbled over a rise in the ground. “Don’t worry, Alabath, I know you better than you think.” I nearly shivered at the realization that it was true—Tolek Vincienzo knew me better than anyone.

The laughter that slipped up my throat, genuine and bright, felt unfamiliar yet decadent. Too soon, though, it faded. Watching our friends meander before us, bruised and bone-tired, it was hard to forget the troubles we faced. And the fact that I may not be around to see us through them.

I was prepared to die, but Spirits, I would miss these people.

“What’s wrong?” Tol asked, squeezing my arm.

I shook my head.

“You’re worried about the animals and the uprisings,” he guessed. He wasn’t wrong, though I hadn’t been thinking of it at this moment. But I latched onto the excuse.

“And the winged beast.” There was no explanation for such unrest—spanning across clans and species and land. “The more I consider it all, the less confident I feel.” Leaving Palerman had removed a veil from my eyes. I now saw the tapestry that formed Gallantia’s strength, history, and beauty unraveling into delicate threads, so easily snipped.

“Why have our fields not replenished? Why are the people not being given food?” He voiced my own worries. Our territory should be in abundance thanks to the magic that powered the land, but it was clearly malfunctioning. And it had been kept a secret.

“Why are the forest creatures unhealthy?” I added.

“Should we seek out the Starsearchers?” Tolek grunted, ducking a branch.

I contemplated that as I pulled his arm farther around my shoulder. Consulting the minor clan could provide answers, but it could also expose a weakness. Not that we had any reason to mistrust the Starsearchers—or any minor clan—but after the war, I was uncertain of who we could put faith in.

“No. They may be able to read an answer celestially.” I paused to wipe a drop of sweat from my forehead, though it was pointless. We’d been traveling for days with only streams to rinse off in. Our skin and leathers were covered in dirt, sweat, and blood. How I longed for a decadent bath with a variety of soaps, oils, and salts. “The Mindshapers may even be able to sort moods of those in the harmed territories and decipher where revolution is stemming from, but this is a Mystique problem first.”

“You think we should…” Tolek trailed off, but I knew he understood.

“We have to tell the Revered. It is his responsibility to provide for his people.” My heart clenched at the thought of Mystiques rebelling if this situation went unresolved for too long. I met Tolek’s eyes and saw the same fear reflected there.

*

Tolek, to his credit, tried to keep moving even with the injury threatening loss of limb. In the days after his injury, though, we stopped more than usual and proceeded much slower, dragging out our progress. Still, only when I could feel Tol’s body temperature climbing from exertion, or when the sheen of sweat crawling down his face and onto mine was so much thicker than the rest of ours, could I convince him to rest.

But every time, without fail, he pushed himself to his feet within minutes and insisted we keep moving. I didn’t know if it was for my benefit or for his own restless heart, but there was an undeniable determination in his eyes.

So, I did not stop him. I allowed him the freedom he needed, and as we walked, his leg healed slowly. Proximity to the magic emitted from the mountains worked hard to knit his skin back together. Bring bone, muscles, and flesh back into their rightful places and siphon off the pain, just as it healed me. My head still ached dully—a steady consequence of my own actions that thrummed throughout our journey—but I could feel the healing power absorbing the withdrawal symptoms with each day we drew closer.

But it did nothing against the Curse.

“We’re only a few days’ journey from the tundra,” I said to our group as we settled beside a bend in the Solistine River where the current was calm and the water deep. The melody eased some of the tension that had built in my shoulders. I rolled them back, massaging gently to work out the knots I was convinced would never leave. “We just follow the river north.”

A flash of unease settled in the air between our group at the mention of the tundra—the expanse of dry land at the base of the Spirit Volcano. The first step in qualifying for the Undertaking, and the only one my friends would be allowed to accompany me on.

The steady flow of the river and animals scurrying through the trees were the only sounds as the realization of what waited sank into the group.

“It will be okay,” I asserted, clutching one hand over my wrist as I said it. The Curse had been traveling up my arm as we journeyed, but slower than expected. I didn’t allow myself to question its lack of progress, shutting down the hope that blossomed in my chest, but I was beginning to believe that I may be able to hide it from my friends until my mission was complete. Until the point where my life must be ended.

I had written a letter for that moment and tucked it into the bottom of my pack. It expressed everything in my heart—what had happened, how I felt about it, why I hid the truth, and why my life must end. I would leave it with them before it was too late. I hoped I would be able to explain everything myself, but should I not…I must take every precaution possible.

“Of course, it will be okay,” Jezebel agreed, and I broke my reflection to nod my thanks for her support. I pretended not to notice that something had shifted about her when the beast attacked, but it was like she harbored a secret.

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