“Sorry,” Ophelia said, shaking her head. “We have to start at the beginning to explain.”
And Damien’s unholy cock, did she weave a story. That this magic of thefel strella mythosliterally allowed her to raise myths, and she’d used it on a sphinx inside the hall. A sphinx who had once been a guard of Xenique—the Prime Soulguider Warrior—who was not only an Angel but a fucking demigod.
“But this emblem wasn’t the hardest to find,” Malakai proposed, still cradling Mila in the sand. “Shouldn’t it have been if Xenique held that esteem?”
“Not for you,” Ophelia corrected, “because you could hear the siren song. One I bet I triggered when I used the mythos magic to wake the sphinx. I bet only you and I would have been able to hear it, making us the only ones who could find the orb. And without Jezzie’s necklace,” she added, fitting the crescent into the mold, “it’s useless.”
She pressed down on the pendant.
And golden light erupted like a burning wind. It was feral and uncaged, a being freed after millennia of pounding on its glass enclosure. It speared toward the sky like a pair of wings fluttering and tasting the desert air for the first time.
It wrapped around us, andeverythingfelt more possible and powerful as it explored, but it was followed by a weightlessness—like a Spirit floating through the world, untethered.
Finally, after whirling and dipping across the night-bathed dunes, the light seemed to realize it wasn’t finding what it sought. And it retreated back into the orb.
“What the fuck was that?” Malakai asked.
“I have no idea.” Ophelia’s voice was awestruck, but sobered quickly. “There was more the sphinx said, though. She told us the purpose of the Angelcurse.”
Everyone froze, the air heavy. As if the eyes of every Angel and god were turned on us now.
“Which is?” I asked.
“To free the Warrior God from the prison the six known gods locked him in.”
No one said a damn word, until?—
“What in Bant’s everlasting fuck?” Barrett blurted.
“My reaction exactly,” Jezebel deadpanned.
“There used to be a seventh god,” Ophelia explained. “A Warrior God. But the known gods locked him away.”
“And you want tofreethis thing?” Lancaster growled, stepping closer.
“I have to.” Ophelia’s fingers curled around the orb in a desperate grasp, and dammit, I wanted to peel away the pressure on her shoulders. “Jezebel and I have Godsblood as descendants of Xenique. That’s what activated the Angelcurse in the first place. And since it merged with Alabath blood—Angelblood—the curse will be active in every Alabath to come. If I don’t do this, someone else will have to.”
Full of immortal arrogance, Lancaster argued, “Or we destroy the emblems, as my queen wishes, and no one has to.”
“The cage is already being pried open!” Ophelia challenged.
“You can’t let him free,” Lancaster roared, storming toward us. “Are you insane?”
“I’d back off right now, fae,” I threatened. “You take one more step toward her, and it won’t only be the Revered of the Mystique Warriors you deal with.”
Cypherion grunted in agreement.
Lancaster ignored me, sharp stare trained on Ophelia. “Give the emblems to my queen. Allow her to end this.”
“She won’t be able to!” Ophelia shouted, voice cracking. “Don’t you understand? All magic has a loophole. The very balance demands it. The magic trapping the Warrior God is unspooling.”
Lancaster blanched. “What do you mean?”
“The Rites, the phoenix, the unsettled magic that sent you here! It’s all connected. The gods each had to sacrifice a bit of their power to lock him up, but because Godsblood and Angelblood have permanently united within the Alabath line, it’s all unraveling. It’s only going to get worse.”
Shock fluttered over Lancaster’s sharp features. Shock and a tugging, causing him to stumble back. “I have to get to the Queen.”
Ophelia’s eyes widened. “It’s in her bargain with you, isn’t it? When she sent you here, she said once you have answers about your magic, you’re to return to her?”
