Page 164 of The Legacy of Ophelia
The rest, I wasn’t sure. An array of beings. Some might have been spirits, some skeletal and emaciated. And some…some were casting ripples of what I could only guess was magic up toward the goddess. Toward a weapon her demigoddess daughter was placing in her hands.
“Malakai,” Mila breathed, “does that scythe look familiar to you?”
My answeringyeswas drowned out by a door in the wall cracking open, a tunnel exposed.
And as we peered into the dim hallway, mystlight barely illuminating the space with shallow pools, my mind went back to the woman leaving this room earlier.
And I wondered if we hadn’t chosen this door at random after all.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Santorina
The ballroom swirledwith brightly colored gowns, from rich emeralds to deep amethysts to cursed blood reds. Women’s dresses floated around them as their partners lifted, dipped, and twirled them. My own skirt clung loosely to my frame before trailing out behind me, the silk fading from lavender to deep plum around the hem. It almost looked like a fading dusk sky, the matching top tied loosely in a knot at my neck, leaving a few inches of my stomach bare and a gold chain belt slung across my waist.
Where Jezebel and Erista had found it, I wasn’t sure, but as I watched the dancers from the edge of the floor, the outfit made me feel somehow mysterious, alluring, and powerful all at once.
“You can’t keep avoiding me, Santorina Cordelian,” Ophelia chided as she strolled up to me, the thin maroon fabric of her dress billowing around her.
“Avoiding?” I asked as I scanned the room with a very convincing air of nonchalance.
Directly across the floor, Lancaster and Mora were discussing something in what appeared to be aggressive tones, their heads bowed and many warriors giving them a wide berth.As I watched, brows creasing, the male’s head snapped up. When our gazes collided, that feeling in my chest hummed, the string plucked.
Between the dancers, Lancaster’s eyes flicked over me, his sister still speaking animatedly at his side. His jaw set, anger radiating off him even from here.
“Yes, avoiding,” Ophelia said, calling my attention back to her.
Forcing my gaze away from the fae, I argued, “I haven’t beenavoidingyou. I’ve been busy.”
“Busy shut up in your room with books on the gods? What have you been searching for?”
My stare flitted back to the fae male across the room, but I quickly averted it. “Information about Echnid.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I knew she wasn’t convinced at all, but despite the fact that she was practically a sister to me, I wasn’t ready to discuss exactly what subjects the books I collected focused on. Especially not?—
A shadow dropped over us, my attention snapping up as the string in my chest sang.Imposing, demanding, and arrogant non-immortal.
“Can I help you?” I seethed.
Lancaster’s jaw ticked. I thought the tension in it might have intensified since he’d crossed the room. In the stewing silence, Ophelia watched me with an expectant, self-satisfied smirk.
“Do they not teach you manners in your long lives?” I snapped at Lancaster.
“Where have you been?” was all he asked in response.
I squinted up at him. “What?”
“You have frequently been missing since we returned.”
“As I said,” Ophelia whispered beneath her breath.
I ignored her, saying to Lancaster, “You don’t know every piece of work I conduct.”
“Have you been with that Bodymelder?”
I blinked up at him in confusion. “Esmond?” When he bobbed his head in a single nod, my chin pulled back. “He’s my friend. We’ve worked closely together in the past year.” At the war front and before that in Damenal, Esmond had tutored my healing practice. It had been a welcome surprise to see him in Xenovia.
