Page 100 of The Trials of Ophelia
There was a lingering sadness in Tolek’s eyes that said he saw every fear on my soul. Did he agree with them? Were these threats coming between us or would they drive us closer?
Angels, I couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Not to something already taking such control of my life. My lungs constricted at the thought.
But before I could ask about it, Tol kissed me and said he’d take the horses to get settled for the evening.
He walked away, but all I heard as his footfalls faded was the possibility of me breaking his heart.
“Where were you?” I looked up at Tolek from my spot sprawled on the ground in the network of tunneled trees in the Gennium forest. I hadn’t seen him since he took the horses. The rest of us had already settled in for the evening, Jezebel laying out a small meal and Cypherion polishing all of our weapons.
“Caring for Astania,” Tolek said. He didn’t meet my eyes when he came over, removed the pack I was propped against, and tugged me into his lap instead. Instantly, though, his casual affection eased my concerns. “She seemed unsettled, but I left her near Sapphire, and she calmed down.”
“I’m glad,” I sighed. My friends’ voices washed over me as I observed the branches woven above us.
The shelter was barely tall enough for Cypherion to stand without his head scraping the canopy of leaves and wide enough for the six of us to set up sleeping mats around a dim mystlight. The horses had to be left in another pocket, but it was nice that while we couldn’t stay in a village, we were able to find this natural haven, like Gallantia itself was providing for us.
That thought alone lifted my spirit, twining with the wild threads of my soul that belonged to our land. No matter what else existed within me, at least I had that. Threats from a dark queen, the blood of the Angels, and the agent to activate their curse aside, I knew my heart beat with the truth of a warrior. It was the mantra I reminded myself of—prided myself on—as I forged forward each day of this hunt.
Jezebel was meditating on a recommendation from Vale, trying to tame the power within her so it no longer overwhelmed her. The Starsearcher sat beside her, organizing her reading materials.
As I watched her fingers pick over the dried leaves and flowers, I considered the ingredients Rina was searching for, and I blurted a question that had been pestering me. “Do you think there’s a way to use my scar to find Kakias as she finds me?”
Everyone froze, stares ranging from suspicious to curious.
“I imagine,” Rina began, mind whirling with antidotes and theories, “if we knew how it worked, that tracking could be used two ways.”
“Yes, but it hurts Ophelia whereas it doesn’t seem to do damage to the queen,” Tolek said. Mystlight flickered over his features, hardening the slope of his brows and darkening the scruff around his ticking jaw.
“We don’t know that.” Cypherion shook his head.
I pushed myself upright. “It could be just as detrimental to her.”
“Not willing to risk it, Revered.”
I narrowed my eyes at his specific use of my title. The reminder that it wasn’t only me at stake, but everyone I was responsible for. Dammit, he knew how to work me. He knew exactly what my motives were and what I wasn’t willing to risk. Absently, thinking of a retort that might sway him, I dragged a hand up the scar.
“Still, it feels alive sometimes. There must be more to it.” It reminded me of the false Curse. Looked similar to that ailment, too, but I hadn’t quite figured out why or how when one was a trick of the Angelcurse and one was derived from the queen’s poisoned blade.
Before anyone could respond, a shooting pain went through my arm. I cried out, doubling over and clutching it to my chest.
Santorina and Tolek were by me immediately, the former gently taking my arm while the latter brushed my hair back from my sweat-pebbled brow. Cypherion, Jezebel, and Vale stood behind them, concern lacing their stares.
“It’s—something’s moving in there.” I gritted my teeth.
Santorina prodded the wound. “It’s hardened. Like there’s something beneath the skin. Can you feel that?”
“Yes, I can fucking feel it,” I hissed. It was like something gathered, embedded in me, not quite firmed but molten. A separation of the power from the queen’s dagger and my own Angelblood. “It’s been getting worse—but not—” I gasped. “Damien’s fucking Spirit, not like this!”
Rina gave me a reproachful glare, but she didn’t reprimand me for the tone. Thank the Spirits, because I wouldn’t have taken it.
“Sorry,” I panted regardless. “It’s been happening more since the Angellight the other night.”
“You didn’t say anything?” Jezebel asked.
“It hasn’t been this bad,” I bit out. It twisted through me again, eerie fingers wringing my veins and picking apart the two substances to turn that poison into something else.
“I’m afraid…” Rina started, observing the spot where there did in fact seem to be something budding beneath my skin. Then, her eyes lifted to mine. “We could be running out of time to try my theory.”
Fear gathered in my stomach, but I was too busy squirming under the sensation of the battle in my blood to indulge it.
