Page 94
Story: The Trials of Ophelia
Santorina and Vale appeared, both looking like they’d just woken up. Cyph shut the door behind them, and everyone turned to Jezebel.
“This arrived for you,” she told her sister, holding up a hastily folded piece of yellowed parchment with Ophelia’s name on the front. “I didn’t read it.”
“Why did it come to you?” Ophelia took the letter and unfolded it, eyes on her sister.
Jez shrugged, but it was Cyph who answered. “We’ve been traveling a lot. The ink probably miscalculated.”
It was possible, but a bit unsettling. The reason we were always so careful about what we put in letters. Ophelia’s lips pursed, eyes dropping to the paper in her hands.
Instantly, her fingers curled into it, tightening, nearly tearing. Her face paled, icy rage narrowing her eyes.
“What is it?” I scrambled to her side. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I gently uncurled her fingers from the paper one by one and smoothed out her hands to ease the tension.
But when I read what had been written to her, unease shot through my own body.
That scar is calling her, Revered. Through the fields and leaves.
- B
“What in the ever-damned Angels?” I growled. My hand latched around Ophelia’s arm, right below the scar. Gently, I turned it toward the window, watching the dark lines branching out from it. They seemed to breathe in the daylight, ebbing under her skin.
“What does it say?” Jezebel rushed to us now, taking the letter and reading it aloud.
Calling her? Calling her?
This fucking wound was telling the queen exactly where Ophelia was? My eyes found Ophelia’s, and for the briefest moment, she didn’t mask the terror this missive had wrought. She let it show to me only, then snapped up her wall of fury.
My heart twisted because she thought she needed to do that. The damn thing pounded faster than a horse’s hooves against my ribs. She didn’t need to hide when she was afraid in order to protect us, but that would always be Ophelia’s tendency. She was a protector to her core. Of us, of the Mystiques, but putting herself last.
And…fuck.
Ophelia was quiet, as if putting pieces together.
“Listen to me, Alabath.” I carefully turned her chin to me. Nothing but burning anger looked back. “We’re going to figure out a way around this.”
We locked eyes and communicated in our silent way. Mentally, she was weighing the pros and cons of running to the queen to end this once and for all before any of us got in harm’s way. She wouldn’t see the danger in that—not if it was only her life at risk. She believed in herself and that Angellight enough to tackle whatever power Kakias wielded but I wasn’t willing to risk her. I’d tie us together before she got away without me.
“It’s been feeling…different,” she said, eyes on her scar. The others quieted. “It’s been feeling sentient.”
I gripped the back of her neck and dropped my forehead to hers. “She won’t get to you.”
“She’s already in me.” Her eyes rested on that scar, then turned up to me with a stare that could incinerate Angels. “But I’ll have her blood on my hands before she has mine again.”
“That’s my girl.” She was beautiful when basking in vengeance.
“We need to leave,” she rushed. “If she’s already heading toward us, we need to get to Firebird’s Field as soon as possible and secure the emblem.”
“What if that’s not where it is?” Jezebel asked.
“It’s the best lead we have,” Ophelia said. “Cyph?”
“The trench,” he answered her unspoken question.
“The Fytar Trench?” Vale gasped.
“It’ll be the quickest way,” Ophelia explained. The trench stretched along the east side of the Bodymelder capital city and was dangerous to cross, putting it simply. We’d been planning to head north and around it. “Kakias will expect us to take another route. It’ll save days.”
As we finalized our plan and everyone rushed out to pack, Rina remained. She hadn’t spoken since the note was read.
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