Page 129 of The Legacy of Ophelia
The air was thick, and with us both in this bed, the floral scent drowned me. I forced away all the things I thought it might mean, refusing to acknowledge them until I had proof. Instead, I stared out the window, pretending it was that fresh night air I was drinking in.
Lancaster dozed off beside me, his fae blood likely still burning away the poison. The moonlight accentuated the sharp lines of his face as the secrets we’d exchanged filled the space between us.
My mind wandered in the silence, but it kept returning to one question. How would Echnid banishing the known Gods from Ambrisk affect Lancaster and Mora? And would their Godsbloodmake them a target? A pawn, as Ophelia and Jezebel had become?
The blood of a Goddess in their veins.
It was threats of the Warrior God that painted my dreams that night, making me restless, my chest pounding and humming abrasively until a calmfinallystole me.
When I woke in the morning, an arm was draped possessively across my waist, as if guarding me from fitful sleep.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Malakai
After Echnid’s attack,Mila and I stayed within the city while testing her Reflector powers. Thin streams of Spirit-blessed water carved through a portion of Meridat’s land, and we’d found a tangle of them in one corner, near the edge of the property. Mila sat at the center, drawing lazily in the sand as she studied the water.
“Can you see anything?” I asked, arms crossed.
Mila shook her head. “Nothing.”
Sinking to the sand, I rubbed her shoulder. “You’ve been trying this for a while, Mila. Maybe we should take a break.”
We were all exhausted. Vale had been overwhelmed with her power when they all returned, and she and Cyph had barely left their room all day. Jezebel had been nearly vibrating with her myth magic after dragging up so much of it to fight Echnid, and Ophelia…
The image of her in the sand, light pummeling the dunes and her so tormented, haunted me. What I’d gone through with Echnid had left scars, but what Ophelia went through had been a different level of violation, and I was damn tired of seeing it happen.
Echnid’s recent attack and killing of a goddess had tightened shackles around our damn wrists, but it had also ignited the need to fight within us all. The moment Mila heard a recount of the battle, she jumped into action. The general strategizing for war. And the first step she wanted to take was turning this new power of hers into a weapon aimed at the Warrior God.
The lack of results was clearly aggravating her, making me desperate in turn. She dug her hands deeper in the sand surrounding the streams.
“There’s wavers.” Her teeth ground. “It’s a thin film over what I’m seeing, but I don’t think I’ll be able to actually see into realms unless one of those creatures is nearby.”
My heart beat uncomfortably fast with that implication. “Let’s think about it,” I said around the fear tightening my chest. “Figure out the best way to make it happen without risking anything.”
“I should have been there when Echnid attacked.” Her hands fisted, and in a broken whisper, she added, “Lyria would have been there.”
“Mila,” I sighed, massaging the back of her neck as I sat beside her. “Lyria might have been there. Or she might not have been. None of us could have predicted that.”
Her silky white braid slipped over my hand as she looked up at me, silver lining her ice blue eyes. “I want to see her. Since we figured out what I can do—what I’ve become—I think a small part of me has been hoping I would see her, in whatever realm she’s in.”
Hoping for a chance to see her best friend one more time. Across realms, sure, but just to get that moment of closure. We’d talked a lot about Lyria since I came back from Damenal—she and Tolek had, too, and there was one thing Mila continually wrestled with: She wanted to live centuries in her best friend’s honor, but she didn’t know how.
She hadn’t mentioned leaving the army since Lyria died, but following the last war, she’d wanted to. A part of me wondered if that would be an easier place to heal, but I couldn’t decide that for her. And I wouldn’t force her into it. Spirits knew Mila let me heal from a fucking mess. She just held my hand and reminded me that I wasn’t alone.
I didn’t know what it felt like to lose someone who was practically a sister—I hoped I never did—but I sure as Spirits experienced loss. All I could do was be at her side, even though I didn’t have a single fucking answer.
“We’re going to keep trying.” It was a lame response, but it was all I could think to say. Time and effort. A path forward that looked like it may never end.
Mila’s gaze dropped to the streams again. “I wish I could have said goodbye.”
“Perhaps it is not goodbye,” Mora said, and Mila and I both shifted our attention to the fae female, lounging in the shade of a palm tree and flipping through her books on demigods. “Just because you have not figured out an answer yet, does not mean you never will. Your life is only beginning, Mila Lovall. True solutions, the lasting and impactful kind, often take time. That does not mean they won’t come or that you will carry this pain in your heart forever. And even if it is not through your Reflector powers, you will see signs of her across the world. You must simply look for them.”
“It’s not goodbye,” Mila repeated, a light dawning in her eyes that I hadn’t seen in weeks. She turned back to me, vitality renewed.
“Now, I would like to try something,” Mora said. Closing her book and standing, she disappeared through the trees. When she returned, the khrysaor and Sapphire followed her.
“How long have you had them waiting?” I asked.
