Page 52 of The Trials of Ophelia

At that, he quieted and nodded.

Before I felt ready, the Seawatchers were dropping a heavy anchor. Three row boats lowered into the water, and we split into our teams.

As she was about to descend, I grabbed Vale’s wrist. “Anything?”

“It’s hard out here—so far from the temples.” She chewed her lip, a flash of emotion I couldn’t place in her olive eyes. “I saw a lot of successful paths, and some…” Her voice trailed off. “Searing light. Effervescent and burning with promise.”

And that was what I needed.

“It’s here then.” My pulses kicked up at the confirmation. Knowing this mission might be worth it made climbing into the boat between Ezalia and Tolek easier.

Three rowboats speared out from the ship, each carrying three warriors with hearts pounding and weapons poised. Looking over the side of the boat, fish scurried beneath us. A few with long flicking tails jumped, hopping in and out of the water. One soared toward us, coming within inches of my face in a shock of rows of sharp, snapping teeth.

Ezalia pulled me back, using her oar to slap the fish back to the water.

“Those are pygmites,” she said. “Do not get near them. They’re small but those teeth can shred through human flesh in a matter of minutes.”

A shiver crawled down my spine, and we paddled ahead in silence, with only the roaring waves to calm my nerves. With each stroke, I pulled out the mask of Revered that now felt vintage. The one that absorbed my inhibitions—didn’t allow room for emotion.

For this, I needed it.

My blood roared in my ears as we narrowed in on the center island. It wasn’t even the size of my family home in Palerman. Moss and seaweed draped across the boulders, like lace on a woman’s figure.

Where it met the water, the rocks got smaller, turning to pebbles and eventually tiny grains of sand disappearing beneath lapping waves. The shores ebbed with prophetic secrets, wood scraping over them and drowning out the whispers as we pulled the rowboat ashore.

Before I could go further, Tolek turned me toward him, his hand gripping the back of my neck. His eyes searched my face, peeling apart every layer I’d hidden away. Every concern I was too afraid to voice. He saw it all, despite my mask. Took it all in so it balanced between us, rather than on my shoulders.

“It’s going to be all right,” he whispered, bending to press his lips to my forehead. “In and out.”

“We get in, we get out,” I said.

“I meant your breathing, but that, too.” He smirked as he pulled away, earning a roll of my eyes. “Now let’s go show the Angels what you’ve got.”

Giving him my own appreciative smirk, I pulled Starfire from her sheath and walked up the beach to where Ezalia was waiting.

We started climbing, and halfway up, I gasped. Gouges cleaved some of the boulders. Large, immovable rocks that had somehow been sliced through.

“What did that?” I wondered aloud.

“I don’t want to know,” Tol said. “Come on.”

Placing a hand on my lower back, he led me away from the site. But not before I quickly pressed my fingers to the rock. And felt the warmth within.

My second pulse was racing by the time we reached the plateaued top, and the rest of the small island spread before us. More of those scorch marks lined the stone, and each time I touched one, it flared with a dull heat. Like a wick after a flame had been extinguished.

The islands were evenly spaced out. Close enough that you could swim the distance if you had to, but with the pygmites’ razor-sharp teeth prowling beneath the waves, I wasn’t willing to try. Still, using the shell horns Ezalia had given us, we were able to call to the others.

To our right, Cypherion helped Jezebel and Vale up. The three turned to face us. Fifty feet of choppy, predator-infested water. That’s all that separated these land masses. But they felt so much further.

“Ready?” I called through the mouth of the horn.

“We are,” Cypherion’s deep voice answered as if he was right next to me.

I looked over my shoulder to the third platform. Seron, Andrenas, and Chorid stood proud atop the ridge, looking like a unit of ocean warriors, bows and arrows ready to write a legend. Ezalia watched them with pride shining in her eyes.

“May the tides hold true and the farers find their way home,” Seron called through his horn. Chills spread over my skin, and not because of the salty ocean spray off the rocks.

“Stay true,” I called to my own warriors.

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