Page 142 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

“It’s okay, I trust her,” Vaeril whispers into my ear. Taking a deep breath, I give her a tentative smile and reach out, placing my hands in hers.

“Lovely to meet you, young one,” she greets, but as soon as she touches my skin, both of our eyes widen, hers going blank as her mouth drops open in a silent ‘O.’ Shocks of electricity shoot up my arms from her touch, and the goddess mark on my wrist glows so brightly even the golden cuffs can’t contain the light. This female, whatever power she possesses, is powerful. I’ve never felt anything like it. Images appear in my mind then, images of me and a small group of people leaving Galandell. We’re hiking across a great expanse of land, whatever our journey, it’s not an easy one.

As quickly as the images appeared, they vanish, leaving me staring at the elf before me. The male at her side is watching her carefully, his hand resting on her back as if to catch her should she fall.

“What just happened?” I whisper quietly, but I know their hearing will pick up my words.

“Did you get a vision?” Naril inquires from behind me. I turn to stare at him in shock, but I have to stop as the world spinsaround me, fatigue making my body feel heavy as my energy drains from me. Hands reach out to steady me.

“Are you okay?” Vaeril queries intently, his eyes running over my face as if searching for injury. Silently, I nod, turning to look back at the elf who seems to have recovered from whatever just happened.

“Child, you have great power.” Her words, while gentle, hit me like a physical blow.

“I have no magic.” The denial comes so fast that it sounds false, even to me, but I’m telling the truth. I’ve been told many times that what I possess isn’t magic, so she has to be wrong.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Voice light, she takes another step towards me and places her hand on top of mine again. Nothing happens this time, other than a very light tingling where our skin touches. “It’s different, neither human nor elf, but you have power.” Her tone is curious as she tilts her head to one side, and although she’s looking at me, I get the impression she’s not seeingme. “You’ve been marked by the gods,” she whispers, her hand sliding up my wrist, moving the bangle to expose my goddess mark.

“Clarissa is able to amplify magic,” Vaeril explains, frowning as he looks between the two of us. “I hadn’t thought it would cause you to have a vision, otherwise I would’ve warned you. I apologise.”

Saril seems to wake from whatever trance-like state she’s in, smiling first at Vaeril, then at me, patting the back of my hand before stepping into the arms of Taelir. “It’s fine, although you could become a little addictive. I’ve not had a vision that clear in years,” she jokes, leaning back and looking up into the loving eyes of her partner.

“You had a vision of me.” Considering how shocked I am, I sounded much calmer than I feel, and although I meant that to be a question, it came out more as a statement. I know what Isaw, and my gut is telling me that it’s true. For some reason, I’m going to leave Galandell. What I don’t know is why or with who. I’d seen that I wasn’t travelling alone, but not the faces of my companions. Uncertainty settles in my stomach like lead.

“Yes, but now is not the time,” she replies firmly, her eyes glancing around us, and I’m reminded that we’re in a very public place. My disappointment rises, but she suddenly turns her attention back to me. “Come and visit me before you leave.”

I know she doesn’t mean tonight, instead she’s referring to the vision she just had. Nodding my head, I shift as an awkward silence fills the space between us, until Taelir clears his throat and turns his attention to me.

“Is it true that you dragged his hulking body through the woods and then battled with the kelpies to get a weed that saved his life?” Although his voice is disbelieving, he’s wearing a friendly smile, so I know he’s just trying to break the tension. His words, however, make me laugh.

“Oh. Well, he was semi-conscious for a while, so he helped a little,” I admit with a shrug, glancing at Vaeril at my side, who’s watching our conversation with a curved lip. “Plus, the kelpies gave me the nos weed.”

Taelir arches his eyebrow in surprise, and even Saril seems shocked. “You spoke with the kelpies?”

This seems to be a common reaction from the elves, so perhaps I have done something different, although I don’t understand why everyone is so amazed.

“Yes, I just asked for it,” I reply with a bemused smile and a gentle shrug of my shoulders.

A snort has me looking at Taelir in surprise. “She’s definitely related to Jaonos, he was the same.” He shakes his head with a wry smile. “Always trying to convince me that kelpies were misunderstood creatures.”

I want to comment that I agree, that while the kelpies demanded respect, they were helpful, and that a lot of their anger stems from the magical barrier that is keeping them from their family and the rest of their territory. In our time of need, they helped me. I remember our gruelling trip to Galandell with complete clarity, where Vaeril became so sick from his poisoned wound that his heart stopped beating. Somehow, I’d managed to pull him back from death with our link and forced him to eat the nos weed the kelpies had retrieved for me. However, that’s not what leaves my mouth when I start speaking.

“You knew him, my…grandfather?”

Saril’s expression changes then as grief lines her beautiful features. Taelir tightens his grip on her, holding her close. “Yes, he was a dear friend of ours. We were devastated when he decided to leave us.”

Whatever she was about to say next is cut off as a hush descends over the room. Turning, I look towards the door and see the reason everyone has quieted. The queen has entered the ballroom with Tor on her arm.

Seemingly as one, everyone drops to one knee as the queen saunters through the large, arched doorway. I’m only a second behind everyone else, but in that small space of time, the queen’s eyes lock with mine, narrowing with hatred. Bowing, I keep my head down, my heart pounding in my chest from the look she just gave me. What have I done to deserve such hatred? Is it just because of race? I don’t think that’s the case since she seemed pretty happy with Tor on her arm, and although he’s from the mountain tribes, he’s still human, right?

Sound resumes as the elves stand up. Whispers float over to me as they marvel over how beautiful the queen is and the identity of the mysterious man on her arm. Slowly, oh so slowly, I straighten, my mind a mess as I try to push away the feelings that are trying to overwhelm me—memories of being a slave, of being pushed to the ground and punished, the brandings on my skin, and the look of pure hatred that the guards would watch me with. The queen hasn’t done anything to physically hurt me, but that one look spoke volumes—she wishes me dead.

Vaeril stays silent at my side, his expression somber as he waits for me to work my way through my panic, obviously experiencing some of my feelings through the bond.

“Is she okay?” I hear Saril ask gently, concerned for me.

Naril steps closer, and between them, they’re able to block me off from the curious glances of the elves around us while I have my freak out. “Clarissa’s life has been…” Naril pauses, and my eyes flick up to glare at him, promising him violence if he tells my story without my permission. “Challenging,” he finishes, wisely choosing not to divulge my history.

“Clarissa,” Vaeril calls gently. “Alina,” he calls again, using his elvish nickname for me. I recently discovered it means ‘saviour.’ I’d been uncomfortable when he first started calling me this, but I’m used to hearing him say it now and the name feels like mine when it’s him who says it.

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