Page 96 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

“Hold on, almost there.” I’m not sure if Vaeril is talking to me or himself, since the vertical climb is made much more difficult for him as he holds a magical shield and carries dead weight. Finally, after what feels like a lifetime, we reach the top of the wall. Knowing I’m about to drop, he pulls me from his back and cradles me against his chest. With a grunt of exertion, he pushes away from the wall, and for a second, it feels like we’re suspended in the air as weightlessness fills me. When we start to drop, I have to bite my lip to stop the startled scream that’s trying to fight its way up my throat.

We land with a thud, Vaeril crouching low. We stay this way for a few seconds, and I worry he’s hurt. In this position, with me cradled against his chest, our faces are close together. My energy is quickly fading now, the Goddess’s strength fading from my body, but I need to make sure he’s okay. “Vaeril?”

My voice seems to pull him out of whatever trance he had fallen into, and he raises his head slightly so I can see his face. His eyes are wide as he looks around us, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.

“I’m free.” It’s barely a whisper, but I can hear the awe in his tone. Feeling my eyes on his face, he turns his gaze to me, the smallest of smiles pulling at his lips. “And it’s because of you.”

I want to respond, to tell him we did it together, but unconsciousness is calling me. Frowning, Vaeril realises I’m about to pass out, and the shouting from the other side of the wall is getting louder.

“Find the elf and the traitor, we can’t let them get away!”

The words make me flinch as Vaeril stands with me bundled in his arms. He glances down at me, and with an unreadable expression, he brushes a strand of hair from my face.

“I will take you somewhere safe, you can rest now.”

As soon as he says the words, I lose the fight against my fatigue. The last thing I hear as Vaeril starts to run from the wall is the shouts of “Traitor!” before I fall into the inky blackness of oblivion.

The hard ground digs into my skin, something uneven and sharp jabbing into my hip. Shifting my weight, I shuffle around until I feel more comfortable as bits of dust and small stones scratch at my exposed skin.

Wait. Why am I lying on the ground?

Opening my eyes, I jolt upright, looking around as my stomach sinks.

I’m back at the castle’s slave quarters. My breathing speeds up as my deepest fears come true.

No. I’m not a slave anymore, Grayson freed me. I escaped the castle.

Slaves hobble around me, their dull eyes facing forward as they trudge towards the palace to begin their day’s work under the early rays of the sun. Pulling my legs towards me, I see a flash of metal and hear a sound that will follow me for the rest of my life—the clinking of chains. I don’t want to look, I feel sick even at the thought of it. Taking a deep breath, I glance down at my ankles and can’t stop the cry of distress as I see my shackles.

No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.

Reaching forward, I pull at the metal, my sobs loud as they echo against the stone walls, bouncing back and mocking me as I desperately pull, scratch, and hit the cuffs. I’m making myself bleed, but I don’t care, my only thought is that I must get free.

“625, you’ve returned to me,” says a voice that fills me with horror. Looking up, I see him standing over me, his hands clasped behind his back as he watches me with a sick, amused smile. Kneeling down, he inspects the mess I’ve made of my ankles and takes one of my hands in his, looking down at the torn skin and broken nails. A shudder of revolution racks me as he runs his thumb over my fingertips. Tutting, he shakes his head and lets go of my hand to touch one of my ankles. Running his finger through the blood, he examines the swollen, already bruising skin. All of a sudden, he presses his finger deeper into the wound, twisting and gouging as my shouts of pain resonate around us.

“I told you before, you’re mine and you will never be free of me.”

“Clarissa, wake up.”

I jerk upright and back away from the body that’s so close we’re almost touching as I look around in shock. What is happening? I know that accented, lilting timbre, and as I scan what I realise is a cave, I spot the owner of the voice—Vaeril. One of his hands is resting on my shoulder and his face is pinched into a frown.

“You were shouting in your sleep,” he says by way of an explanation, his hand lingering on me far longer than necessary.

With a deep breath, I lift my skirts and look at my ankles. I’m still wearing my stolen boots from the castle, and there is nosign of any shackles. Suddenly, a wave of residual fear from my dream washes over me and my boots feel constricting. I need to get them off, to see my bare, unshackled ankles. I struggle with the laces as I try to pull them off, the knots difficult for me as my fear makes me fumble.

“Clarissa?”

“I need to get them off, I need—”

Before I can finish my frantic, jumbled words, he reaches for my other boot and starts working on the knot there. Within seconds, my boot is off, and he gently bats away my hands and does that same with the remaining one. As soon as they’re both off, I breathe a sigh of relief and rub the scarred skin, reassuring myself that I’m free, I’m not back in the castle.

“I’m free. I’m free,” I whisper to myself, rubbing circles into my skin. “I will never be a slave again, I would rather die than go back,” I state out loud, and something settles over me as I come to this conclusion.

Vaeril has been silent during my freak out, but now he reaches forward and touches the skin just above my ankle.

“These scars...” He trails off, and I don’t know what he was going to say about them, but an anger has entered his eyes I’m not used to seeing.

“They’re from my cuffs. They would rub so badly, and they were never removed, so the wounds would never really get the chance to heal,” I explain numbly, watching as his fingers dance over my scars. I should be ashamed, the scars are ugly and I should cover them, but I don’t have the energy to care right now. Besides, Vaeril has his fair share of scars.

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