Chapter 55
Chapter Fifty-Five
Ophelia
I scratched at the Curse mark on the inside of my wrist and gritted my teeth, eyes locked on the dark wood door.
The slice on my arm from Kakias’s blade still ached.
Though the stitches holding my flesh together had faded into my skin and the wound was healed, an echo of dark power pulsed within the scar.
And I hated it.
The way it burned, like my blood was revolting against it, twisted my gut.
Rina had leached the venom from that blade out of me using a slow process of needles and tonics.
Or at least, that’s what she’d said when I woke.
I’d slept through the entirety of it, waking two days ago in a fierce sweat, thinking Kakias was standing over me.
It had been Jezebel, though.
“Thank the fucking Spirits,” she’d sobbed, throwing herself at me, holding tight. I’d blinked as my head caught up to what was happening. We’d sat like that for an hour, tears silently streaming together, soothing whispers exchanged, sinking into the realization of our father’s death.
Once Santorina had assessed me, Barrett and Malakai filled me in on the spotty parts of my memory—told me what had happened while I was off fighting Kakias and how the city was fairing since.
“Not well, but it could be worse,” Cyph had said from his seat across from my cot. His expression was vacant. A fresh white bandage was wrapped around his shoulder, his broad chest bare beneath it.
I’d decided to take the wins we were given in that moment, cherishing the life still around me, but one person was missing.
“Tolek?” I’d asked, voice as small as could be.
“He’s the same,” Cyph had said, as he had every time I asked. Alive but the same.
But I wasn’t allowed to think about him now. I couldn’t lose myself to that pain when my attention was needed elsewhere.
Instead, I threw myself into reconstruction. Mystiques had rebuilt before. We’d do it again, and this time would be the last. I swore Kakias wouldn’t have another chance at destroying my people. Not now that I knew her deepest secrets.
But she hadn’t been the only surprise of Daminius, and now, it was time to deal with the traitor in our midst.
I swallowed, uncurling my fingers from the webbed curse on my arm.
“Ready?” I asked. My heart was heavy, but I forced away the ache in my chest, and didn’t allow my mind to wander to the infirmary upstairs.
“Yes,” Malakai answered.
Cyph only grunted.
Taking a deep breath, I sank into the presence of the Revered and threw the cell door wide.
Vale sat on her bed, chin resting on the windowsill, observing the clouds drifting through the blue sky. When we entered, she turned, spine straightening as she took in our trio.
Gone was the demure girl who looked at her feet during the Rapture, who averted her eyes when spoken to. Before us sat a woman dripping with confidence, albeit with a tinge of guilt coloring her eyes. Still, she locked her stare to mine, and for long silent moments, we stood like that.
Finally, I said, “The truth, Vale.”
“If I talk to you, I’m betraying the man who has given me everything.” She sniffed, lifting her chin—but she hadn’t denied me.
“You’ve already started to talk,” I reminded her.
“It won’t take us much effort to figure out the rest,” Malakai added.
“Or at least to create a story we find plausible.” I tilted my head, my voice fading to a heartless taunt. “Rumors spread like wildfire once given a little kindling.”
“Are you threatening me, Revered?” she sneered my title. A part of me wanted to remove the dagger from my thigh and remind her who she spoke to, but I didn’t think threats would convince her.
No, I’d collected pieces of Vale’s character for months now.
Seen her for the secrets she’d tried to hide and the truths she’d let slip as she got comfortable in our presence.
Vale was clever and unafraid. She’d faced horrors and risen above them.
Threats would not frighten her into handing over information.
“I would if that would work, but it won’t.
Not with you.” I crossed the room and sat on the bed beside her.
Malakai followed, his disapproval dripping from his slow gait.
He’d advocated for punishing Vale in ways I wasn’t comfortable with, but in the end, I’d convinced him that it wouldn’t be necessary.
“You’ll tell me because it’s the smart thing to do. For us…and for you.”
“And why would I think that?” Vale toyed with the ends of her hair, crossing her arms then uncrossing them.
“Because I know it was you that conducted the session in which Titus claimed to see my destruction.” A smug smile spread across my face when she stiffened.
“How did you figure that out?” Reluctant approval glinted in her eye.
“I suspected for a while. Once my friends informed me you’d been lying to us, I was nearly certain.
You confirmed it just now.” I relaxed against the wall, crossing my feet on her bed.
It was comfortable to be in my leathers after fighting a battle in a dress.
These garments were a luxury I’d never take for granted again.
I ran my hands over the skirt, the material cool beneath my fingers, and waited for Vale to form her response.
“I suppose it was only a matter of time until you threw me in this cell, then.”
“For the love of the fucking Angels, Vale, tell us what this is about,” Cyph snapped, speaking for the first time since we’d gathered upstairs.
Vale flinched, pursing her lips. I flicked my eyes between Cyph and the door, silently telling him if he could not control himself, he would have to leave. He nodded back.
I made a mental note to tell him I was proud of him for standing up to her, though. He deserved answers for being lied to—we all did.
“What Cypherion means to say is we know there is more to your story. And we have ideas of where it begins and ends, but it would be a cleaner process for you to share the truth.”
“A cleaner process?” And there was a sliver of fear shaking her voice as she looked at the sword on Malakai’s hip. The small ax beside it.
I gripped her chin, turning it toward me. “Not like that…at least not yet. I can’t promise it will never come to that.” Searching her eyes and not finding any hint of weakness, I added, “You’ve seen what I will do for my people, Vale. Do not become a threat to us.”
Her lips quivered for a fraction of a second. “I can’t tell you. I’ll lose my home.”
“A cage is not a home,” Cyph said, much more collected than before. His eyes were on her shoulder—the spot where the tattoo covered the brand marking her as a slave.
Vale turned narrowed eyes on him, her chin still in my hand. “It is if it’s all you know.”
Realization snapped into me. I dropped the girl’s face, standing from the bed. “Is there anything else you’d like to share today?”
She bit her lips, but her eyes landed on the emblem hanging from my necklace. “You figured it out, didn’t you?” Her voice was low.
I nodded once, not needing her visions to confirm the truth my bones already screamed at me.
“I can honestly tell you that I haven’t figured out what that vision meant.
I’ve tried, ever since I’ve stopped suppressing them, I’ve attempted to recreate it.
There’s been no explanation—just darkness and you, Ophelia.
But if I had to guess, I’d say it’s all connected.
The emblems, the queen, the Angelblood…and the reading. ”
“That’s all for today.” I spun toward the door. “Send word for us if you think of anything you’d like to share.”
Malakai followed me from the room with one last threatening look over his shoulder. Cyph lingered for only a moment, a conflicted look in his eye.
We shut the door to her cell, locking it from the outside. As the heavy iron key hung in my hand, I couldn’t help but feel bad for trading one of Vale’s prisons for another. She’d only ever known cages. Was born to keep secrets.
Perhaps she needed to taste freedom.
The Mystique Council Chamber was stoic when I entered, marching to my seat at the head of the table. Malakai and Cyph followed, sliding into their places.
I tried not to think about the council members that were no longer here. Instead, I focused on those who were with me and the treacherous path awaiting us.
I didn’t waste words on introductions, not when a heaviness pressed on my shoulders, my heart twisting in my chest. Truthfully, I didn’t want to be here at all. My heart was elsewhere…
But I’d put this meeting off for two days already, allowing my council to grieve and dispose of bodies. To plan funerals, my father’s included. My eyes stung, but I banished the thought, instead focusing on the pride he’d felt in me. I needed it to carry me through this.
My hands shook as I raised them behind my neck, flicking open the clasp on my necklace. I tossed the thin gold chain and emblem onto the table.
“This is the answer to Damien’s prophecy,” I clipped.
“A necklace?” Jezebel asked, perching on the edge of the table. Erista stood next to her, rubbing a hand over her brow in thought.
“A shard of metal that came from Angelborn.” I remembered the first time I picked it up and how the scrap burned my skin—only my skin.
“It has always reacted to me unlike any other warrior, creating a second pulse in my veins. The false curse was awakened by it to drive me here, to complete the Undertaking and start this whole journey. Given to me by the Angels. I believe this token is it.”
“But what exactly is it?” Malakai asked.
“It’s my theory that a crystallized piece of Damien’s power lives within this shard of metal.” Both pulses quickened within me as I remember the Storyteller’s tale of fossilized power being left behind from the Angels. It wasn’t just a legend, though. This emblem held the power of Angels.
“There are seven of these, then?” Cyph asked. Picking up the necklace and flipping it over, he held it to the light. Undiluted golden sun bounced off of it.