We were trapped here, but I was okay. And after all we’d been through, my priority had to be making sure Ophelia was, too.
With a furtive look at the door the white-haired apparition had disappeared through, I made sure Lucidius’s dagger was secure before leaving the kitchens, and my heart pounded in the back of my throat with every step.
No matter where I looked,I couldn’t find Rozelyn over the next few days. I hadn’t told Ophelia about her. A part of me really fucking hoped I was hallucinating.
But there was a much larger part of me, the one that was secretly terrified of how much unknown surrounded Echnid right now, that remained on guard.
I swore a humming voice filtered through the air as I walked the second-floor halls. I crept toward the banister and peered into the room.
No one.
There was no fucking one in sight.
Pressed against a pillar, I caught my breath and slid my hand to the waistband of my leathers. The cold handle of Lucidius’s dagger pressed into the base of my spine.
Frustration tightened my muscles, but I sighed, scrubbing a hand down my face.
“He is convinced it is hidden in there,” a rough whisper spiraled up from below.
Straightening, I checked over the railing, sticking close to the wall. It was still empty. Whoever it was had to be in the entrance to the corridor directly beneath this one.
“And what does he want you to do about it?” a second voice responded, lighter than the other.
“He wants it all taken care of.”
A lengthy pause. Heart pounding, I leaned further. Light reflected against the marble floor, gold with a soft orange hue on one end and a hint of blue on the other.
“All of it?” That was Damien, and based on the shades of ether, his companions were likely Ptholenix and Gaveny.
“Yes,” the original voice responded. “In three days’ time.”
I slid to the ground, willing my heart to stop beating so fucking loud so they wouldn’t pick up on it. What didheorder? Was it about Echnid wanting to banish the gods?
Despite all the research I’d done, I hadn’t found a fucking hint as to how that would be possible, which was both promising and concerning. There was a chance Echnid hadn’t either, butif the hushed conversation below said anything, the godhaddiscovered something…
“Three days,” I said beneath my breath. I had three days to figure out?—
“Xenique?” asked one of the voices below—I thought it was Gaveny.
“Hello,” the demigoddess Soulguider Angel greeted them, her voice airy. I pressed closer to the railing, searching again. Xenique stood before the hall the Angellight poured from, her own dark purple ether unspooling lazily around her wings.
“Is everything all right?” Damien asked.
Not answering, Xenique turned, strolling toward the arched windows that looked out over the mountains. Facing west, toward her deserts. Spirits, she was as difficult to communicate with as her warriors when they were receiving a premonition. As sunlight hit her features, I could just make out a small smile that seemed…wistful. Spirits, it was somortal.
“I’m only seeking,” she finally answered, as the other three Angels exited the corridor. Their combined ether painted the white marble floors, broad forms and wings imposing.
“What are you searching for?” Ptholenix asked.
“Sometimes, our responsibilities are simply heavy.” Xenique’s eyes slipped closed, and though her behavior was jarring, the others didn’t seem phased, mumbling among themselves about theirthree days.
Finally, Xenique gracefully spun toward them, and I swore for a moment—not even a breath—her gaze flicked up to mine. “Never mind, brothers. Return to your work. You are doing well.”
Then, Xenique opened the window and flew off across the mountains, leaving me shivering as I crept quietly back toward Ophelia’s suite.
When I entered the office, I buried any residual unease—but I did assess the space before getting too comfortable. Books were strewn across the large dark-wood table, all exactly as I’d left them. Stacks based on categories and their usefulness, volumes tagged with notes.
I tried not to be overwhelmed by the sheer impossibility of what we were facing as I pulled the tome I’d left off on yesterday closer, a book on myths that had been wedged on the highest shelf. I’d found a vague reference to the sisters in the pegasus and khrysaor origin tales and how their magic was its own balance, but hadn’t had a chance to show it to Ophelia yet.
