Page 173 of The Trials of Ophelia

“To your liking?” I finally asked, fingers ticking over the scar on my chin.

Jezebel flashed me a grin that didn’t soothe me at all. It was too knowing, too accepting of the brutality waiting. “You’ve done everything you can, Malakai. I will be fine.”

Fine was not a reassurance. Jezzie was so young. She may have harnessed some spirit power, but she was a little sister to me, barely eighteen years old. Perhaps it was hypocritical given that before I was her age I had signed a treaty taking responsibility for an entire war, but I had been raised with that pressure on my shoulders. Jez had always been free.

Ophelia and I had never talked about where our lives would lead if we were not first born, but I wondered sometimes what it was like not to live with the weight of a clan over your every decision. Jezebel deserved a choice.

“You will be safe. If there’s a moment when you aren’t, you retreat.”

“Sure,” Jezebel said.

“No, Jezzie.” I stormed to her side and turned her to face me. Her shoulder guards were cold, even through my gloves. “You promise me you’ll run if things get bad.”

“I can’t promise you that, Malakai.” The resolve in her expression tightened my gut, and…was that pity softening her eyes?

“Why not?” I spat.

“Because you and my sister wouldn’t.”

My shoulders slumped. “That doesn’t mean you can’t?—”

Jezebel took a step back so my arms fell at my sides. “I won’t be a coward.”

“It’s not cowardly. It’s self-preservation.”

“And will you run?” she snapped, bracing both hands on her hips. There was the girl I knew, the challenge taking the shape of a warrior.

“No.” I paused, surveying the drop below the lookout. “I won’t run anymore.”

“Then why do you expect me to?”

“Because,” I sighed, “this is not your fault.”

“And it’s not yours.”

I understood that—I did. Logically, I’d learned I did not have to absolve Lucidius’s actions simply because his blood ran through my veins. Or at least, I reminded myself of it. If Mila of all people could believe such, who was I to argue? Still…

“I will do everything in my power to fix it, though.”

“What did you tell Ronders?” Jezebel challenged. “This is all of our birthrights Malakai. It is what we sign up for in completing the Undertaking. This war started differently than some, but we will stand for the power buried in the mountains. We still carry out that cause.”

I sighed, grumbling under my breath, and Jezebel smirked victoriously.

“I will be safe here with Amara and her team. The Mindshapers will reinforce my efforts. Erista won’t leave my side in case I am distracted by my power. I have a constant guard at all times, even without you, Tolek, and Cypherion breathing down my neck.”

“Fine,” I conceded. “I’m still having Elektra readied below the lookout.”

“That horse is always ready,” Jez scoffed. “She would be waiting for me regardless. And besides—I have my own plans.”

I wasn’t sure what that cryptic ending implied, but as I watched her gaze over the mountains, I let it go. More warriors graced the lookout platforms on every side of us, their cheers and directives instilling the falling night with a bit of warmth.

Jezebel dropped her voice. “A lot of them have changed their opinions of you, you know?”

“Who?” I asked, eying a woman carting jugs of flammable oil, another tying a tarp over them.

Jezebel inclined her head to the warriors traipsing up and down the winding path to the lookout. “Ronders has been convinced for a while, but some were more hesitant when you first arrived. Quil was telling me of it.”

The Soulguider would know how Mystique warriors felt toward us. The man’s booming laugh and natural vivacity were revitalizing around camp. Many flocked to his company.

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