Page 192 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

“Remember, they’re already dead, they feel no pain. To kill them, you have to sever the head from the neck,” Naril instructs, his voice smooth, even as he ducks and battles one of the forsaken, not sounding at all out of breath. The others make noises of agreement while I stand in the middle, clutching my staff and feeling helpless, wishing there was something I could do. After all, this is my fault. The queen sent the forsaken here because of me.

Tor cries out, and I spin to see him fighting with a fierce-looking forsaken, the blade of the axe buried into its chest, but it doesn’t seem to affect him in any way. Tor tries to pull it out, but the forsaken grins and grabs onto the shaft, starting a tug-of-war for the weapon. With my heart in my chest, I leap forward, jabbing the pointed end of my staff against the forsaken’s chest with just enough force that he lets go of the axe. With an almighty heave, Tor removes it from the creature’s chest and swings, cleaving its head from its neck. Glancing at me over his shoulder, he gives me a quick, feral grin. “I fucking love you.” I grin back at him. Sure, I’m covered in blood and grime, but right now, I don’t care. His expression shifts, and he gestures for me to move. “Now get back.”

I’m not sure how long this goes on for, but there are too many of them. Where one falls, two more appear, and I start to fear that we might not make it out of here. But from the distance, I begin to hear a strange roaring, and the sounds of battle grow closer as a triumphant bellow echoes off the mountains around us. Tor returns the hollering sound, his face stretched into a grin as tattooed, painted warriors appear from behind the tents, jumping on the forsaken and taking them down. We are still hugely outnumbered, but we might now stand a chance.

“Sorry we were late, Torsten. These bastards don’t know how to die!” one of the tribesmen from the tent we had met earlier calls out, as he swings a huge, carved sword at one of the forsaken. Blood splatters across his chest in the process, only making his grin even larger.

“You just couldn’t stand the thought of the elves getting more kills than you!” Tor goads, as he pulls his axe from another body. The sweat and blood of the forsaken covers his now bare chest, his jacket lost in the fighting. The two of them stop their bickering as another wave of forsaken arrives, descending on us out of nowhere. A tingling sensation falls over me, landing on my skin like a thousand tiny ants are crawling all over me. Gazing around, I try to work out why I feel so strange.

Look up.

The words are whispered in my mind, and I can’t tell if they’re from the Mother or my own subconscious, but I’m powerless to resist. Looking up, I follow the feeling and see that Kaelir is watching me from the side, and as if the goddess planned it herself, there’s a clear pathway that would lead me straight to him. I know I shouldn’t go, Tor said to stick together, and I know it could be a trap, but I just have this feeling that I need to try and save him. They’ll try to stop me, and with good reason, so I have to do this fast, even though it feels like I’m betraying them with each step.

Go to him.

My wrist glows as the goddess’s words echo in my mind. So, gathering all the courage I have, I run through the gap in the battle before I lose my nerve.

“Clarissa! No!” Vaeril shouts, panic ringing out in his voice as he immediately tries to follow me, cursing as the gap closes and bodies collide in a clash of metal and limbs. My companions try to reach me, but a wall of forsaken keeps them away. My heart breaks a little when I feel Vaeril lose control of his feral faeside, tearing into anybody who comes close to him. Tor bellows, ordering his fellow tribesmen forward as he swings his axe with abandon, carving a path towards me only to be overwhelmed by more forsaken.What have I done?My breathing stutters as I strain to try and see any sign of Tor, any hint that my mountain man is still alive under the writhing mass of forsaken. Naril is at his side, ripping bodies away, and several tribesmen are helping. When his head appears, gasping for breath, I feel like I can finally breathe too.

“You really are stupid.” The statement is said in that strange, echoing voice, and although the voice is the same, as I turn to face Kaelir, I know it’s not him I’m speaking to any longer. That strange sensation runs over me once again when his blank eyes lock onto me, shining like mirrors.

“Hello, Your Majesty.” Hate runs through me like never before, lighting a fire in my veins, but somehow, I manage to keep my voice calm and level, pleasant even.

Kaelir—no, I can’t keep calling him that. The forsaken tilts his head. “Hm, maybe not that stupid, just reckless,” the queen remarks through her puppet, making him walk towards me. I’m sure she meant to make him saunter like she would back at the palace, but with the forsaken’s body, it just looks awkward and stiff, so she gives up after a few steps. “Either way, you’ve helped me root out the traitors, and now you’re going to die.” With a snap of Kaelir’s fingers, a forsaken appears at his shoulder and draws a weapon before slowly making its way towards me. “Goodbye, Clarissa.” Kaelir’s face is stretched into a grotesque grin, and I know the queen is going to enjoy watching my death. Maybe this was a trap after all. I couldn’t save Kaelir.

Pushing those unhelpful thoughts from my mind, I tighten my grip on my staff and face the forsaken that’s making its way towards me. I don’t recognise him, but he’s large and wearing a soldier’s uniform, so he was probably one of the elves onborder patrol. Taking deep breaths, and blocking out the sounds of combat around me, I try to calm myself and remember the training Eldrin gave me.

A low growling fills the air, and I do the one thing I was always taught not to do—I take my eyes off my enemy. I see another forsaken charging towards me, except I recognise this one. “Eldrin.” I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest as he barrels towards me, his face twisted with rage, teeth bared, and daggers in hand. “No!” My voice breaks as I cry out, not because I’m about to die, but because he already has. We never had a chance to see what could have been.

Just as he’s about to reach me, he jumps and, tears rolling down my face, I raise my staff and duck to avoid his attack…except the attack never comes. Spinning, I see he’s pinned a forsaken that had been sneaking up on me to the ground, slicing his head from his neck. The body instantly stills, and I’m still staring at it when Eldrin jumps up to deal with the other forsaken.What in the Mother just happened?Blood pools on the ground under the stiffening body, staining the ground red. I know I should be paying attention to the fight that’s going on around me, the sound of metal ringing in my ears, but I can’t seem to pull my eyes away.

“You took your eyes off your enemy.” Eldrin’s gruff voice pulls me out of my internal panic, and I know it’s him. He’s not dead. As soon as he’s within touching distance, I spring forward and grab his arms, needing to feel that he’s real, that I’m not dreaming. I rake my eyes over his scarred face, which is pulled into his usual frown.

“I thought you were forsaken,” I babble, and his harsh expression softens as he sees the tears dripping down my face. “I thought you were dead.” My voice breaks, and I hiccup. I’ll look back at this and be horrified by how I behaved, and I’ll deny this ever happened, but as he sighs and pulls me against his chest,something settles within me. “You found me,” I whisper, but he hears me anyway.

“I found you.” There’s longing in his voice, and when I pull away, I look up, but we both did exactly what he just scolded me for—we took our eyes off our enemy.

Clapping reaches us, and we jump apart like we’ve been burnt, as the queen, still using Kaelir as a puppet, watches us with interest. “Eldrin, you surprise me. You managed to stay hidden amongst my forsaken all the way hereandgo after someone else’s mate. And here I thought you were loyal to me.” There’s a heavy pause as she lets that sit between us, and I know she would try to use it as leverage if she thought it would help her. “Never mind, I finally have an excuse to get rid of you. I tire of this.” There is not an ounce of remorse or regret in the queen’s tone as she uses Kaelir to snap his fingers, and suddenly, everything changes. All of the watching forsaken start fighting, but without any sense of direction or purpose, they simply start attacking whatever gets in their way, be that friend or foe. I can tell the moment the queen gives back control of Kaelir’s body—she’s still watching, but no longer directing.

Save him, beloved.

Staring at Eldrin, I take a deep breath, knowing what I need to do. “Will you keep them off me? There’s something I have to do.”

He frowns, and for a moment, I think he’s going to argue with me, but something passes over his face and he simply nods. Closing my eyes, I extend my senses and center myself, trusting in the Mother. When I open them again, I feel ready. I start to run, knowing I’ll need to be fast if I want to do this before the queen realises what I’m trying to do. Sprinting forward, I reach Kaelir and place my hands on his face, pressing them against his skin, my momentum taking us both down to the ground. At first there’s no resistance, so I extend my senses. If the queenisusingsome sort of death magic on the elves, then I might be able to free them from it. Iamsome sort of magic breaker, after all.

“Clarissa?” the familiar voice calls.

I open my eyes and smile down at my friend. Except something shifts in his gaze and pain rips through my mind, like someone is dragging a set of daggers through my brain.

“I won’t let you have him.” His face is twisted now, his eyes empty, and I know I’m speaking to the queen once again. A pain like I’ve never felt before stabs into my head where I’m connected to Kaelir, and I have to let go, clutching at my skull as something wet drips down my nose. His body goes still under mine, and I know he’s truly deceased now. She panicked, that’s why she killed him, but I know her secret now—I can bring them back. I wasn’t able to help Kaelir, but I might be able to help others.

The fight doesn’t last long after that, and I was unable to save any of the forsaken. We burn the bodies. Apparently, we have to, part of the tradition to assure that the forsaken don’t rise again. Our losses were surprisingly minimal, although there were many injuries. The elves were surprised and delighted to see Eldrin in one piece, but Naril keeps giving me suspicious looks, like he knows something went on between his brother and me earlier. There will be a big celebration tonight to celebrate their win and the return of the ‘lost child.’ I don’t feel like celebrating, but I will show up with my mates and friends to honour those who were lost today.

I still have so many questions about who I am and who my family was. My mother was the Queen of Arhaven, and she was murdered in front of me. My aunt is still alive and the leader of the mountain tribes, the wood elves believe I’m a goddess reincarnated, and there is a great evil infecting this world—and for some reason, the Great Mother has chosen me to help her.

If the elven queen is able to control the forsaken, then it only makes sense that she is the one creating them. Naril told me they are rare and only happen when the mourning process is not properly adhered to, but she had a whole army of them. Back in Galandell, she wielded death magic. She was able to control the growth of the flowers and then kill them at her will. I have no doubt this is her doing, and that she has something to do with the darkness infecting Morrowmer. I also know the queen picked Kaelir to inflict the most pain because she knew it would hurt me. She was right.

She thinks she can break and ruin me with her games, but I’m made of stronger stuff. All she’s done is stoke my anger.

It’s time to light the fires of war.

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