Page 31 of The Trials of Ophelia

If he wanted no part of it, I’d respect that wish, but I couldn’t placate his feelings to the point of harming others. Vale was trying to help us, and though I still was not entirely sure of her story, that earned a level of trust.

Cypherion worked his jaw. “What is it?”

I sighed, relieved to see the rational side of Cyph that I loved. “I want Vale to train with us, starting tomorrow.” He opened his mouth to argue, but I held up a hand. “We tried it your way, but it’s been two months, and nothing has changed.”

We’d had an explosive argument over it—our first in the history of our friendship. I told him how I felt about Vale’s position, and in his pain, he lashed out, claiming I was being reckless with my strategy.

It had hurt, and I told him as much, but I was too beaten down by my father’s death to care. Too busy taking care of Mystiques, I didn’t have time to push. Instead, I allowed Vale to be a different kind of prisoner. She may not have been in chains, but she held no power.

But now, with the crisp air of the plains clearing the grieving fog I’d been trapped in, I had to put an end to it.

“We need to treat her like a warrior, not a prisoner,” I started. “Think about it, Cypherion. What happened to Malakai when he was imprisoned?”

He didn’t answer, but his eyes betrayed his understanding. We weren’t torturing Vale, but we were demeaning her. Trapping her.

“She’s been a prisoner her entire life, in one sense or another, Cyph.” The more tension slipped from his shoulders, the more my voice softened.

“She doesn’t think so,” he said. “She thinks her cage was her haven.”

Sadness welled in my chest. “Maybe if we put a weapon back in her hand, she’ll feel stronger again. If we unlock that door, she may finally look for freedom.” And perhaps then we’d get some progress out of her.

Cyph sighed, running his hand over his face, leaving a smear of dirt behind.

“All right,” he relented. “I don’t want to help. I don’t want to be around her any more than necessary. But I won’t interfere.”

It was something. A negotiation between two level-headed warriors. Cypherion and I truly did make a good team, balancing out each other’s instincts.

“Thank you.”

“By the way,” Cyph said as I turned back toward the group. I looked over my shoulder at him. “You two.” He nodded toward Tolek who was boasting over the hand he’d won. My breath lodged in my throat as I waited for some kind of warning, but Cypherion only cracked a smile that had become so rare. “It’s about fucking time.”

Relief swept through me. Though I was still afraid of hurting Tolek, Cypherion trusted me with his friend’s heart.

And that had to mean something, right?

The next day, and every day after as we marched closer to the Seawatcher village at the Cliffs of Brontain, Vale stood before me with a sword in her hand.

It was on the last day of our journey that she finally snapped.

A ferocity had been burning closer to the surface with every session. Each time I knocked her weapon—or her body—to the ground, she seethed, cheeks flushed and eyes heated. Life came back to her steps and her movements. Her voice rang out like a bell again.

“Why do you keep fighting so dirty?” she yelled. Everyone else stopped, watching us.

I held my hand out to help her up, but she pushed it aside, grabbing her short sword and shoving herself up, brushing her brown waves from her face. “I’m trying to teach you, Vale. In a real battle, your opponent won’t play fair.”

“But I?—”

“If you’re going to learn to fight, you may as well learn the right way. You’re behind on training, and?—”

“I am not behind!” Vale stormed, the bell of her voice a lightning strike. “I’ve been training my entire life!”

“What do you mean?” I smiled victoriously at her admission. I’d told Cyph Vale needed to be pushed. Here was the proof.

“I lied when I told you all I hadn’t been trained. At the temples”—she panted as she prowled forward—“they insisted we learn. Not a damn day went by where a sword, a dagger, or triple blade wasn’t shoved into my hand.” She swiped out at me with her borrowed weapon, and I met the attack.

“I was honed into a weapon in defense of the sacred sites, whether I wanted to be or not.” Another clash of blades. “It didn’t matter if my readings were strong—I had to be strong in this way, too.” I ducked her sword and twirled around her. She spun to meet me with impressive precision. “So stop your dirty tricks and fight fair if you expect me to do the same.”

“Why lie to us, Vale?” I fired back, shoving my weight against her so she staggered. “Why hide your skill when you first arrived?”

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