An exclaim of shock slipped from me, but luckily Ptholenix stated louder, “It would be an honor.”
And then, flames poured from the Firebird’s palms. Orange and red and gold, even the scalding blue hearts. They licked across the first row along the left wall. Gold cascaded to the floor in a waterfall of riches. A destruction of wealth that could promise so much to so many.
Crackles filled the air, heat searing my skin and burning my eyes.
“It will take time,” Ptholenix stated calmly, showing no sign of strain despite the force of his magic.
“We have all the time we need,” Echnid said.
Holy Angels, I internally shouted.
And as quickly and quietly as possible, I raced back up the stairs.
“Ophelia!”I shook her shoulder. “Ophelia, wake up!”
Her eyes shot open, and I gripped her wrist before that dagger landed in my neck. Magenta eyes flicked between my hand and my face, relief loosening her lips.
“Sorry,” she panted. She scooted to the center of the bed, crossing her legs and twisting the knife between her hands. “What are you doing awake?”
“I needed air,” I answered. Based on her tight swallow and shallow nod, she understood. “But that’s not why I’m waking you.”
I rushed out the story of what I’d seen in the vault, and Ophelia blinked at me with glee I didn’t understand.
“This is our chance!” she gasped, flying from the mattress and dropping to her knees at the edge of the bed.
“What?” I asked.
She dug around and pulled out two packs stuffed to the brim. She tossed me one, and the weight and sharp corners poking the leather told me it was at least partially filled with books.
“What are these for?” I asked.
Ophelia was already slinging her satchel across her body and lacing up her boots. “We’re getting out of here, Malakai.”
And the glimmer in her eye—it wasn’t just hope. It was determination wrought from the magic flooding through her blood. It was shimmering gold seraph power, and it had me grabbing Lucidius’s dagger and donning the heavy pack.
Still, I said, “We can’t just walk out the door.”
Ophelia gripped my wrist and pulled me from the room. “We aren’t,” she explained as I followed her dizzying steps, trusting her despite the confusion in my gut. “When you were unconscious, I was thinking about something Valyrie said to me. About a legend she loved. And about…other things.” She paused. “But I spent the day diving deeper into this myth magic.”
“What about it?” I asked. Ophelia led me back through the palace corridors toward the vaults I had come from. “We can’t fight them!” I whispered harshly.
“We aren’t even going to see them,” she comforted me without stopping. “But this is our window of opportunity. You said yourself they’d be in the vault for a while.”
Mystlight sprinkled across her wings, beating gently in anticipation. “Phel, I swear to the Angels, if you think you’re flying us out of here?—”
“Not me,” she said, huffing a laugh when we stopped at the top of the staircase heading into the cells and vault passageways. “He is.”
She pointed to the tapestry?—
“A gryphon?” I blurted. “Where are you going to get one of those?”
But Ophelia was striding in front of me already, pure-gold magic gathered in her palms.
“I’m not going to get one,” she purred. “I’m going to raise one.”
And like Ptholenix had projected fire across the vaults, Ophelia poured mythos magic over the tapestry. It was the pure shimmering gold of ancient power, not laced with any of the Angels’ light.
I squinted against it, removing my dagger and keeping one eye on the stairs. Luckily, Ophelia’s magic didn’t crackle as loudly as the Firebird’s had. It gleamed, stark in the dim passageway, but through the beams, a figure emerged from the wall.
