Page 217 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

Laughing under her breath, she looks at me from the corner of her eye. “Yes, have faith, beloved.”

I groan at her use of the endearment. She’s obviously heard the elves call me that and decided to adopt the term. “You too?”She grins at me and shrugs, but I can’t help but smile, my mood lifting slightly.

The atmosphere shifts, and as I look up, I see four high mages have entered the clearing. Logs have been put out in a circular formation for us to use as benches, yet I get the feeling no one will sit. Entering the space, the mages come to a stop with Grayson in the center, his eyes immediately seeking me out.

“Greetings. Thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” Grayson calls, pulling his gaze from me and making an effort to look at each of the representatives as he speaks. “My name is High Mage Grayson.” He turns and gestures to the three mages behind him. Merrin, the oldest of the three, is standing the closest to him and has aged a lot since I last saw him. His hair is almost completely white now. His face still looks kind, and of the three, he’s the only one who smiles at me. It’s a small, tentative smile, but a smile all the same. Gifted with truth, Merrin would be a good ally to have on our side. Beside him is Ellis, the second youngest high mage ever to be gifted with magic. His messy, dirty blond hair and days old scruff are a far cry from the tidy mage I first met in Arhaven. His hazel eyes flit around the clearing, never staying on one person for long. The last of the high mages is Pierre, who is scowling at the elves and not bothering to hide his scorn.

I guess I know where the opposition to working with the elves came from, I muse to myself as I run my eyes over the mage. When I first met him, I likened him to a viper, and seeing him now, I think I was right. He seems coiled and ready to strike. His pure blond hair is slicked back, not a strand is out of place, and his blue and gold uniform is perfect, despite travelling miles to get here.

“These are High Mages Merrin, Ellis, and Pierre,” Grayson introduces, gesturing to each man in turn. “I’m sure Clarissa has already explained, but we are here to fight against the elf queen.”

“Why?” Vaeril’s tone is sharp as he glares at the mages. My head snaps around to stare at him, and I see I’m not the only one. My aunt is also frowning at the high elf. What is he doing? Reaching for our connection, I try to soothe the anger I feel vibrating down the bond, but I can’t tell if it’s anger at the magicians wanting to work with us, or anger specifically at Grayson being here. Feeling my touch on the bond, he breaks his stare with the magicians and glances at me briefly, that anger stuttering for a moment before he turns his attention back to the mages.

Trying to de-escalate the tension in the clearing, Revna takes a step forward and clears her throat, pulling the focus from Vaeril. “Welcome, High Mages—”

“Who are you?” Pierre sneers with a look of disgust, cutting her off and not letting her finish her greeting. “We didn’t come here to speak to you, we came here to speak to her.” Pierre points at me, and the atmosphere suddenly darkens.

The chiefs bristle at the disrespect shown to their high chief, their hands going to their weapons and growls filling the air. However, they know better than to try to fight on her behalf. Revna didn’t earn the role of high chief through diplomacy alone, and I’ve been told the stories of the brutal battles she won to get where she is today.

Taking a menacing step forward, she snarls at the high mage. “How dare you?” Her face twists, and I’m reminded of the warnings we were always given in Arhaven—never provoke someone from the tribes unless you want to die. I need to do something now before things get worse.

Stepping forward, I make my way into the center of the circle so I’m between the two groups. “She is the High Chief of the Mountain Tribes and my aunt,” I explain, addressing Merrin and Ellis, needing them to understand. “I am just one person. The goddess may have told you to trust and follow me, but I still needguidance.” Turning my attention to Pierre, I narrow my eyes. “So you might not want to piss off the only group that was happy to have you here.” My speech only seems to excite him, his eyes lighting up and a slight smile twitching at the side of his mouth.

Thankfully, Merrin agrees with me. “Apologies, beloved. Pierre doesn’t speak for all of us,” the older magician says, our eyes meeting, and I get the feeling I can trust him. I remember the first time I met him and felt his truth magic when trust was something I rarely gave out.

Nodding my head in thanks, I take a deep breath and try to get us back on track. “You said you were here to fight the elf queen, why?” Of course I already know why they’re here, but the others need to hear it from the magicians, and if they hear it from Merrin, they will know the truth in his words. Taking a step to the side, I move back so I’m at the edge of the circular clearing but not on any one side, just watching, ready to jump in should I need to.

Humming in agreement, Merrin clears his throat and takes a small step forward. “As you know, the magicians have fought for the humans in the war against the elves for centuries.” The elves shift uncomfortably at the reminder of the war and that they are in the presence of elf killers. I can’t help but notice Vaeril takes a step closer to the other two elves, automatically going to protect those more vulnerable than him, and I wonder if he even realises he’s doing it.

“In the last decade, we have been petitioning with the king to withdraw. Using our magic in this way felt wrong when there were so many other ways to utilise magic for good,” Merrin continues, looking over at me, and my heart constricts painfully in my chest. Merrin is too good for this world. Hope blooms inside me. Is what he says possible?

“Why would the goddess have given us the capacity to heal and create if she only wanted us to use our powers to destroy?”I feel like he’s talking to me directly, and he speaks with such passion that I can tell this isn’t the first time he’s said this. Surprise flashes through me, and I realise it’s coming from Vaeril’s bond. Looking over at the elf, I see he’s wearing a blank mask, but he can’t hide his feelings from me—the magician has surprised him.

“When Grayson had the vision of Clarissa and came to us, we knew things were changing. I started to do some research. In our travels, we discovered a plague on the lands, a darkness. It reeked of dark magic, and when we traced it back, we believed it was coming from the queen.”

As Merrin talks, I watch Grayson, reaching for him through the bond. He’s careful not to let it show, but I feel his surprise as I gently tug on our connection. Trying not to look at me, he scans the clearing, and I feel his hopefulness. This meeting was going better than he expected. That was worrying, what had he expected? Returning my attention to Merrin, I nod my head at his explanation and how they tracked the darkness back to the queen.

“Some of us believed it was the elves rallying to attack us.” He shoots a quick look at Pierre, then a radiant smile crosses his face. “But the Mother appeared to us and showed us a vision.” His expression quickly changes to one of sadness. “To receive a vision is a great honour, but…” He pauses, gazing over at the elves with sympathy in his eyes. “In that vision, we witnessed elves being harmed by the queen.” I can see why they chose Merrin to share this part of the story. Had it been anyone else, the elves could have said that the mages were making it up, trying to make the elves seem evil, but his truth magic fills the clearing. Also, the fact he genuinely seems to be struggling with what he witnessed is obvious. “She was harming her own people and turning them into…” He trails off, lacking the word, but I know exactly what he’s describing.

“Forsaken,” I whisper. The attention of the clearing turns to me, but I keep my eyes on Merrin, who is nodding slowly.

“That is a good name for them.” Taking a deep breath, he glances back at his fellow high mages before turning to the elves. “Our king is responsible for numerous atrocities, and it was a shock to realise then that our king was no better than the queen. We thought long and hard about why the goddess would show us that vision. Was she exposing how evil the queen was and saying she needed to be stopped?” He pauses and seems to brace himself, as if he knows what he’s about to say next is going to be unpopular. “That’s when I had a thought. Perhaps the queen’s people were just as innocent as ours were.” My eyes grow wide, and there’s a loud snort from Pierre, but otherwise, the snakelike mage stays silent. I can’t quite believe what I’m hearing. I never thought the magicians would see past their hatred so easily. Having Merrin on our side will help hugely with convincing the rest of the mages, his gift of truth making them look past their prejudice. Perhaps this really can work.

“There are good and bad humans, just as I am sure there are good and bad elves,” he continues. “Maybe we were given the vision because the Mother wants us tohelpthe elves.”

“Outrageous,” Pierre sneers in disgust, striding forward and rounding on his colleague. Grayson moves and stands between them, but the mage doesn’t get any closer, merely just turns to look at me. “This is where we disagree.” His tone is full of mockery, but without another word, he spins on his heel and strides off into the forest with a flash of his cape. I’m not the only one watching him with narrowed eyes, and I can feel anger coming from both Vaeril andGrayson.

Merrin sighs and rubs a hand across his face. “I apologise for Pierre, his views differ from our own.” As I gaze across the clearing, I notice Speaker Hawthorn and Beck watching the older mage with interest, their expressions thoughtful. “Nowthat we have broken from the king, we can finally make our own decisions, and I think we should make therightdecisions.”

A familiar presence settles over me, and when I glance down, I see my goddess mark is softly glowing. Smiling, I trace the mark with my fingers, feeling the Mother’s happiness, and I know that although this is messy, things are happening as they should. I wonder if she will show herself as she did at the ceremony with the tribespeople, but the moment passes, and I quietly watch as the groups continue to interact.

“We have all come to the agreement that the elf queen needs to die,” Ellis announces, speaking up for the first time, shifting uncomfortably under the sudden attention from the elves. “The difficulty will come in working together with the elves.”

This catches my attention. Frowning, I step forward, and all eyes fall on me. “I won’t let any of them come to harm. If there is any possibility that the elves will be in danger, I won’t accept.” It may seem rash, but I don’t stop to check or get permission. To me, it’s that simple. They are my people and they’ve come to me, so I make the decisions when it comes to their safety. “Can your people be trusted?” I direct the question at Ellis, but I glance at Merrin and Grayson, who nods his head slightly in approval.

My actions, however, are not appreciated by some.

“You cannot make those decisions for all of us!” Ragnar roars in protest, pushing forward from where he stands with the other chiefs. His face twists with anger, the tattooed streak of red across his face only making him look fiercer, but he doesn’t scare me. “You are not the leader of me,girl,” he spits, jabbing his finger in my direction. “You cannot reject their offer!”

---