Page 125 of The Trials of Ophelia

I chewed over that inquiry, not sure how to say it.

“Is it about Lancaster?” she asked quietly.

“No, it’s not about the damn fae.” I sighed. It came out harsher than I intended, and Ophelia stiffened beneath my arm.

“I’m sorry I am concerned by it, Tolek. I know you sealed the bargain, but I can’t help but worry over what will happen now that he knows.”

“I told you I made sure he won’t tell his queen.” My temper was rising. Dammit I never let it get the best of me. I was not an angry person by nature, but fear was quickly morphing within me. All of the things I’d hidden because I didn’t know how to say them were rising up my throat.

As we passed an empty cavern, I pulled Ophelia inside. There wasn’t even a cot, but there was a mystlight and a pile of abandoned supplies in the corner.

“I don’t want to talk about the faerie or any bargains either of us have made,” I began.

“But if they’re causing strife, then we must talk about them!” Ophelia cried. “I don’t want to avoid this, Tol.”

Not like she had with Malakai. It had become a twisted game between them, who could hide more to spite the other. It broke my heart that she thought we could ever become that. I wasn’t him, and she was no longer that version of herself. She was aware of those mistakes and working to avoid them. To heal the bad habits. As long as we kept fighting, we’d get through it.

“We aren’t avoiding them, but that’s not where our problems lie, Alabath.” Spirits, why did we feel so off-kilter?

Because you’re not being honest, you fool.

“Which problems are you referencing?” She stepped away from me. “I’m trying, Tol. I’m trying to support you. Please, help me.”

As she said the last words, a groaning roar echoed from the tunnel outside our chamber, and the walls came crashing down.

Chapter Forty-Three

Malakai

“What in the Spirits was that?” Esmond’s eyes widened as the walls stopped shaking. A roar had echoed in the distance, too loud to be above ground.

We tore down the passage, hastening to the meeting space Trev had pointed out on his tour. “For emergencies,” he’d explained. The walls quaking seemed like a damn emergency.

Skidding to stop in the open cavern, I wrapped my hand around the pommel of my sword. Cypherion emerged from one of the other five brick arches, panting. Vale, Santorina, and Gatrielle were on his heels. Jezebel flew through another arch, Trev and the man I assumed was his father from a third.

“Is everyone okay?” the older Mindshaper asked. His eyes traveled over the group, taking stock.

“What was that?” I asked, fingers still tight around my weapon. I scanned the depths of the tunnels around us, waiting for someone to emerge.

“Cave in,” Trevaneth answered, his usual enthusiasm stifled.

“What?” We shouldn’t have trusted these damn tunnels. We were Spirits knew how far underground, and the walls were literally crumbling around us. My chest tightened, and I rubbed my palm across it, my jaw grinding. Trying to steady my blurring vision, I swept my gaze over the gathered group, counting.

It wasn’t enough.

“How?” Cyph asked.

“These tunnels are old,” Ric answered, circling to investigate the support beams. “It can happen.”

I paced around the cavern, glancing down each offshoot.

“Does it happen often?” Cypherion continued, voice hard.

Nerves sent my muscles twitching as I listened for hurried footsteps down the passages. I thought I saw shadows moving, but it could have been my harried mind.

“No, and normally some sort of accident or natural shift of the earth causes it when it does.” Ric didn’t look at us as he spoke, continuing his routine checks.

My heart rate sped as nothing but silence drifted down the corridors.

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