Page 42 of The Curse of Ophelia

Her words hung on the air, wiping all thoughts from my mind. At the head of our group, Tolek stiffened, but he did not turn. A chuckle escaped Santorina’s lips from Cypherion’s other side, and he turned to her to exchange muttered words.

“You did?” I asked Jezebel in wonder, keeping my eyes on the clear blue sky above. The color calmed the tension building within me.

Jezebel shrugged, the spear on her back bobbing with the motion. “You were born for it, Ophelia. We’ve all known, just as you have. We knew there was no keeping you from this, but it took an Angel to show that to you.”

I nudged Sapphire’s sides to catch up to my sister, and the horse trotted through the tall grass and wildflowers with ease. “We are both Alabath daughters, sister. The blood of the warriors flows as strongly in your veins as it does in mine.”

“Perhaps that is not the only destiny given to us. Maybe there’s more.” She kicked her heels into Elektra’s sides to encourage the mare forward. Her parting words trailed after her on the breeze, “Besides, I was not called upon by Damien.”

Elektra trotted away, shining as bright as the light in my sister’s eyes as she contemplated her future.

“She certainly is a force,” Santorina mused, sliding into Jezebel’s abandoned post beside me. I smiled at her relaxed grip on the reins as she guided her borrowed mare, Calista. She grew more comfortable with each passing day.

“That she is.” A force which had been tampered with when the winged beast attacked, but beyond her unusual silent stretches, I had yet to figure out how.

Cypherion caught up to us. The curved blade of the scythe strapped to his back was a shining silver arc against the cloudless sky. He was the only one of us who carried such a weapon, having found it in his mother’s house five years ago. He had shown up to training with it one day, demanded he be taught to use it, and had never spoken of it since.

“Why did you ask about her spear?” I asked.

Cyph considered the question, wording his response as carefully as he did everything. I felt a bubble of anticipation rising within me. “There is something within Jezebel that others lack. I cannot name it, but I was curious what she has planned for her future.”

“Jezzie wants to be a warrior. She has always trained like one.”

With his sword strapped to his hip, scythe across his back, and a number of small blades sheathed across his chest and arms, Cyph made a formidable guard beside Rina and me. But the sharpest weapon in Cypherion’s arsenal was his mind.

“Perhaps” was all he said before falling into his own contemplative silence.

I thought of the spear currently strapped to my own back, a physical symbol of Malakai. The cold metal pressed firmly between my shoulders, its warmth passing through my normally impenetrable training leathers, a presence demanding attention. The pulse it instilled in my veins quickened.

When we had dismounted last night and settled beneath a massive willow, I had removed the spear from my back and balanced it in my palms. Under my control, it slashed gracefully yet powerfully through the air, the blade so sharp it sliced cleanly through a fallen leaf.

Tolek had leaned against a tree, one leg stretched in front of him, the other propping a journal up as he watched, speechless. I shot him a devious smile, enjoying his observation as I worked.

He had raised his eyebrows, impressed. “It’s as if it was made for you.”

I had only winked and returned to my routine. My movements were already growing swifter as my quickened system worked to detox the last drops of alcohol. A dull ache had settled into my head, but I fought through it. My stamina, however, suffered. I had a sickening feeling that the web inside my right forearm was to blame.

Still, wielding Malakai’s spear was freeing.

My heart lifted as I relived the feeling, all thoughts of thirst fleeing my mind.

“Come on, girl,” I encouraged Sapphire, snapping the reins as Cypherion, Santorina, and I followed Tolek and Jezebel up the hillside.

The mares crested the top where rich green grasses reflected the sun into the valley of trees below, and we looked upon the descent. The halfway point of our journey marked by an invisible line in the grass at the base of the hill. I sighed in relief at the sight.

Thanks to our relentless riding, we had shaved a few days off of our journey so far. The Curse continued its slow progression through my veins. If we could keep pace, we’d reach the tundra—the bare expanse of land before the Spirit Volcano—sooner than originally planned, and the real fight would begin. I was equally excited for and wary of that promised point, aware that only a handful of days separated us from that moment.

My brow furrowed as a family of birds took off into the air from the opposite side of the hill. It was odd to see them flying so sporadically.

I kicked my feet against Sapphire’s sides, urging her down the hill. But we froze when a battle cry sounded from the tree line.

Chapter Seventeen

My heart lurched into my throat at the gravelly screams of the men and women flying out of the ash-white cypher trees below. Their skin was pale, streaked with purple scars across their faces and exposed arms. Their moss-colored leathers had camouflaged them among the trees, but I cursed myself regardless for not sensing the threat. For not understanding the fleeing birds moments earlier.

The Engrossians were here.

My breathing hastened, deciding between fight or flight as their shouts grew louder. More menacing. Fleeing would be safest, but the blood in my veins heated and my hands twitched toward my weapons as I looked at those self-inflicted scars marring their skin. The sign of their loyalty to their clan—a sick tradition in my opinion, but one their power-hungry queen, Kakias, still enforced.

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