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“You think Annellius was unworthy?” Though it didn’t always feel that way, we were raised to believe the Angels visiting you was an unheard-of honor.

“Annellius was greedy, remember. He may have been worthy, but his focus shifted along the way.” She waved a hand. “The trials of power and what not.”

Magic was so volatile, seemingly more so the greater you had. The stronger the power, the larger the possibility for destruction.

“We need to learn more about Annellius’s motives,” she continued. “And figure out the meaning behind whatever it is Vale saw when she read and I bled on the emblems.” Ophelia stopped piling up debris and looked at me, eyes concerned. “Have you found anything in those books from Ezalia?”

Though the research I’d been doing was important to this hunt, it wasn’t the Angels she was truly asking about now. Her nerves were evident in the way she worried her lip.

“It helps me come to terms with what I experienced the more I learn about Thorn and his magic,” I answered her unspoken question. How was I faring, especially being down in these tunnels?

The gravity of everything I’d confessed to her weighed down the air.

But when I thought back to the books I’d been studying, I remembered something else.

“There were a few passages that caught my eye in the Mindshaper volume,” I said, continuing to move rocks. Ophelia followed, anxious energy rolling off of her. “It spoke of Thorn being fascinated by the gods. It was only a mention, but the first I can remember from books about Angels.”

Ophelia considered, but in my mind I only heard that lulling voice that had interrupted my studying. The one speaking of sacrificial princes and tragic battlefields amid a war of the gods.

And I hoped we were not being dragged into something as drastic.

Ophelia’s pensive voice pulled me from those thoughts. “Truly, I feel lost in this talk about gods.”

“Hey,” I said, tilting her chin up, “we’re going to decipher it all. And no matter who the enemy is—you’re going to defeat them.”

My words seemed to relax her. “If it was Annellius who Vale saw, what was he doing?”

“She said he was surrounded by seven orbs of light in her reading,” I said. “That they took on winged forms.”

Ophelia quietly shuffled around the cavern. “He seemed so considerate when I met him, like he was warning me. It’s hard to reconcile that spirit with the greedy legacy he claimed.”

I had a feeling it was less about connecting the two sides of Annellius and more so concern over whether the same divide existed within herself, since she was also Angelcursed.

“Suppose you found out Annellius had good reason for whatever he did that was deemed greedy. Would you do the same?”

Ophelia paused, bracing her hands on her hips. “I don’t think I know enough about it either way.” Her teeth gnawed her lip.

“You would do what is right, Ophelia,” I countered, tugging her lip from between her teeth and kissing her once. “It’s in the marrow of your bones.”

“You got dirt on my face,” she mumbled.

I brushed more across her nose. “Oops.”

“Vincienzo!” she burst, but she couldn’t contain a small laugh.

“I fucked you on the floor of this cave, Alabath. I don’t think a little dirt will hurt you.” I raised my brows, waiting for her to challenge me.

All she did was grumble, “We were on top of our tunics, at least,” and continue carefully hauling away rubble.

“I think,” I said, returning to our earlier conversation, “we need to continue to ask questions. I agree there must be more to the motives here.”

“Annellius did die trying to fulfill this task,” Ophelia said. “How can that have been greedy?”

“You won’t follow his path. I’ll be sure of it.” I ignored the thrill of fear spreading along my bones at the thought. “But maybe he knew more than we do. There are a lot of possible explanations. We can’t speak with him, though, so I’m not certain we’ll ever know.”

She was quiet for a moment, eyes flying back and forth as she thought. “He said things during the Undertaking…I’ll have to try to recall it all.”

“You work on that.” I brushed a hand down her back and gestured to the rubble before us with the other. “And let’s turn this into a game.”