Page 178 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

Seeing my confusion, he moves closer, taking hold of my free hand. “She’s staying with my tribe at the moment,” he explains. “Come with me to my people, we have the answers you’re looking for. You will be safe with us while you decide what your next move is,” he promises, his words earnest.

“My aunt? How…?” I trail off. “Why are you telling me this now? Why didn’t you tell me any of this before? How could you keep something like that from me when you know I’ve been searching for information about my past?” I exclaim, my frustration and fear manifesting as anger, anger that I’m taking out on him. “How can I trust you when you would keep something like this from me?”

“Clarissa, this isn’t really the time,” Naril calls out, frowning at the change of topic, and I understand. I should be thinking about our escape, about where we’re going to go to elude the reach of the queen, but I just can’t, my hurt clouding my mind.

“Naril,” Vaeril says, shaking his head. The other elf just throws his hands up in the air in frustration.

“Clarissa, I wanted to tell you,” Tor insists, his hold on my hand tightening as he tries to get me to meet his gaze, but I just can’t. My eyes sting with tears I refuse to shed.

“Remember I told you before I took a magical oath? That I can only tell you when the time is right?” he prompts, and I nod slowly, remembering he tried to tell me something a couple of times but couldn’t. “That time is now. You need to come with me.” He sounds so sure that I look at him, raising my eyes to meet his. I let him see my hurt, not hiding my feelings, and he flinches, but he doesn’t pull away.

“How do you know?” My voice is steadier than I feel, and I’m grateful for that.

“The goddess tells me so,” he replies, nodding his head as my eyebrows rise in surprise. I don’t know much about the gods and goddesses of the mountain tribes, but I’m fairly certain we worship the same goddess. They call her something different and worship additional gods, but the Great Mother is something that connects the tribes to the humans.

“Will we be safe there?” Vaeril inquires, pulling Tor’s piercing gaze from me. “Where Clarissa goes, so do we,” he states, gesturing towards Naril and himself.

“Yes, they are expecting us.” The tribesman nods.

There’s a pause as Vaeril considers what’s been said. I can feel his annoyance at Tor for upsetting me, but he also agrees that going into the mountains would be one of the safest places for us right now. I hadn’t even thought that far ahead, but I realise he’s right. Looking at me, he asks me a question down the bond.Do we trust him?I know the answer instantly and nod my head once.

“Fine, let’s go,” Vaeril agrees, squeezing my hand once before stalking over to Naril, who is waiting by the horses, giving me a chance to talk to the speakers alone. Tor seems to realise the same thing and strides over to join the elves getting ready for our departure.

“Tor,” Naril calls. “Did you see my brother before you left?” I glance over to try and catch Tor’s answer, but the look on his face is answer enough.

With a sigh, I turn back to the speaker.

“Speaker Hawthorn—”

“When the queen comes, we will say you left before we heard the order to detain you. We won’t tell her where you went, or that the tribesman came to warn you,” he promises, cutting me off before I can begin. “If you ever need us, you know where we are. We are family, after all.” He gives me a large smile before reaching out and wrapping his arms around me in a hug.

Stunned, I return his embrace. “We’re related?” I ask, as I pull back from his hold.

“Not genetically, but all wood elves are family, no matter where they are in the world. You will always have a place here.” His hands rest on my shoulders as he looks over me with agleam in his eyes. “Jaonos would have been so proud of you.” His breath hitches, and I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach.

Tears well in my eyes, but I have to hold it together. Taking a deep breath, I nod, not trusting my voice. Vaeril’s been watching from afar, but he returns to my side and offers me his arm without a word and leads me over to one of the horses. Naril and Tor are already mounted, our belongings strapped to the back of the saddles. Putting his hands together, Vaeril boost me up and into the saddle. His hand lands on my leg, and as I look down, I see he’s staring up at me with an odd expression on his face.

“You’re doing the right thing. None of this is your fault,” he assures me, squeezing my knee before walking around to mount his own horse.

Now that everyone is ready, they all turn to look at me with expectant expressions. Since when did they look to me for direction? Don’t they know I don’t have a clue what I’m doing? With a lump in my throat, I just nod my head, and as one, we start moving forward. As we amble through the forest, elves leave their houses and watch us from the platforms. A couple wave, but the atmosphere is somber, like they know I won’t return for some time. I should wave back, I should be thanking them and calling out as I pass, but I can’t. I just feel guilty that I’m bringing trouble into their peaceful lives. Speaker Hawthorn’s eyes are heavy on my back, but I don’t turn around, I don’t look back. I can’t, because I know I’ll fall apart.

So, in silence, we leave the wood elves’ village and head deeper into the forest.

We travel for hours, only stopping a handful of times to relieve ourselves and let the horses drink and rest. Standing by my horse’s side, I stroke her neck as the others stretch their legs, talking to her softly in a low voice. I’m sure she can understand me from the intelligence in her eyes and the way she bobs her head as I speak, as if nodding in agreement. A soft noise catchesmy attention, followed by a flash of movement deeper in the forest. Frowning, I step around my horse and move to the edge of the trail we’re following, peering into the darkness of the thick forest. A small flash of light blinks, and I know it means me no harm. I don’t know how I know this, but deep down, there’s a feeling of rightness. I’m supposed to be here.

Hearing the sound again, I realise it’s a woman’s voice. She uses a language I don’t understand, but it’s achingly beautiful as she sings, her voice calling to me. Without saying anything to the others, I step off the trail and follow the voice, venturing deeper and deeper into the forest. She sings of loss, I’m sure of it. The raw pain in her voice is obvious, no matter the language she speaks. Tears roll down my cheeks as my heart breaks for the mysterious woman.

Reaching a small clearing, I stop by one of the outer trees and peer into the open space. Now that I’m closer, I can hear other, smaller voices joining the first, and a smile comes to my lips as their song brings joy to my heart.

“Clarissa?” Vaeril calls, but he sounds far away. I don’t want to speak in case I scare off whoever is singing, so I stay silent. Besides, I didn’t stray far from the path, they’ll find me soon if they look hard enough.

“Clarissa!” Tor’s voice joins in, loud and urgent. Frustration rises within me. If they keep going, they’re going to startle the fae. Closing my eyes, I reach for the bond between Vaeril and myself, sending a quick blast of my feelings towards him.I’m safe, I’m here,I think over and over, picturing the clearing. Vaeril mutters something to the others, but he’s too far away for me to hear what he’s saying, then I hear them slowly making their way towards me.

Happy that they’re being quiet, I open my eyes and step out from behind the tree and into the clearing. There’s a fae sitting by a pond, and I realise she’s the one who’s singing. Her legsdip into the pool, making gentle swirling patterns on the surface of the water with her feet. She’s leaning against a tree and has to be one of the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen. At first glance, she looks like an elf with her pointed ears and delicate features. Completely naked, her long curling brown hair tumbles over her body, covering her ample breasts. She shifts forward, and I realise she’s not leaning against the tree, she ispartof the tree, the bark growing over her shoulders and curling around her stomach possessively. Is she like the wood elves who have become one with nature?

Dancing around the pond and joining in with the song are fae creatures of different races—pixies, imps, and creatures I’ve never seen before, their gossamer wings glinting in the glittering sunlight that reaches through the canopy.

“She’s through here,” Vaeril whispers, but the creature hears, and her eyes snap up to mine. A wave of magic unlike anything I’ve ever felt before washes over me, and I hear grunts of pain behind me from my companions.

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