Page 56 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

Fires of Treason

Book Two in the War and Deceit Series

“What do you need me to do?”

I stare at the elf before me in stunned silence, surprised he’s agreeing to help me so easily. Did I expect him to say no? No, I knew he would help me, just not so readily. His feline eyes narrow slightly as he waits for a response, and I shake my head to get my thoughts in gear. He’s just agreed to work with his enemy, to the point that it’s delaying his own escape.

Our races are at war, and have been for over a millennium, so he has no reason to trust me, yet he is. Or, at least, enough to work with me until I have the strength to break the spell in his remaining magical cuff, which is binding him here.

“For now, I need you to act like nothing has changed,” I instruct, watching his face for any clue as to what he’s thinking. Like all elves, he has exquisite features. His dazzling green eyes almost glow in the flickering orange light from the forge. Long, silver hair cascades past his shoulders, held back from hisface by a braided and secured with a leather tie. His delicately pointed ears poke through his hair, marking him for what he is.

He continues to watch me, his face giving nothing away. I run my eyes over his broad shoulders and down his arm to his wrists, where I frown at the cuffs that encase them.

“Do you think they’ll notice one of your cuffs doesn’t have magic in it anymore?”

He follows my gaze and lifts his wrist with the now plain stone manacle. The stone restraints don’t look like much, certainly not enough to keep an elf captive considering their supernatural strength, however, these cuffs have magical symbols carved into them, and it’s those symbols that keep him here. Not only that, but they force him to create elven weaponry to be used against his own kind. When I managed to somehow remove the spell from one of the cuffs, those symbols disappeared.

“I don’t think so.” His accented voice rolls over me, and I have to fight the urge to move closer to him, that strange pull between us making itself known again. I know he feels it too, as his eyes jump up to mine, but I push it down and reach out to touch the cuff.

He moves as if to pull away, instinctively reacting to the thought of my touch, but stops himself when he realises what he’s doing. Raising my eyes to his, I wait, my fingers hovering above his skin. For what, I’m not sure, but when he inclines his head, I reach out again. Touching the stone, I run my fingers over the unblemished surface of the now magicless cuff. It looks like it’s been made out of one piece and is completely seamless. My brow furrows as I wonder how they managed to get it on before I shake my head as I think of the obvious answer—magic. Glancing over at the cuff that still contains magic, I see the symbols glowing softly.

I look up from his wrists and almost jolt back when I realise how close he is. He’s wearing a strange expression, one I can’t quite work out. It’s almost like he’s in pain. “Is it hurting you?”

There’s a pause before he shakes his head and leans back slightly, putting more space between us. We’re still kneeling on the cold stone floor, but I don’t care, and he doesn’t seem to either as we stare at each other.

“Not really,” he finally murmurs. “It stings a bit. It’s trying to force me to keep working, but now that the other one doesn’t work, it’s not as strong. I can resist it.” There is a slight note of awe in his voice as he comes to terms with what’s happened.

I managed to break the magical spell in his restraint that had been keeping him here for over a century. I have no magic, or at least that’s what High Mage Grayson keeps telling me, and they believe my ability to sense and amplify magic is a gift from the Great Mother, our Goddess. Although, I haven’t told him that I’ve always been able to sense when someone uses magic, it’s just so much stronger since the blessing. Before then, I hadn’t realised the odd feeling I would get—the tingling, creeping sensation that would crawl over my skin—was magic. I’d just put it down to intuition. Since the blessing, however, I’ve learned that it was more than that. The fact I had been able to break this spell, one so strong it had contained an elf for that length of time, is hard to get my head around.

Until recently, I had been a slave, punished for an unknown crime I committed when I was eight years old.

In our culture, when we reach our twentieth birthday, we have to attend what is known as the choosing ceremony where we are blessed by the Great Mother. We believe that without this blessing, our souls are lost and we, in turn, become soulless monsters. No slave has ever reached the age of twenty, until me, always dying from exhaustion, injury, or illness before they could, so I hadn’t known that slaves are exempt from thisblessing. Now I’ve learned slaves are forbidden to attend, and instead they’re executed.

I was rescued from this death sentence when Grayson, a high mage, had a vision directly from the Great Mother herself. In it, he learned I am vital to the outcome of the war, so I was given a fake identity and received the blessing.

The priests who guide our religion have a lot of power and sway, and many of our laws are dictated by them. Along with teaching about the Mother, they also determine punishments for those who have committed a crime. They were not pleased I escaped my execution, reluctantly agreeing to a new arrangement, but only if I continued to work for them. Part of that arrangement involved me labouring in the bowels of the castle, cleaning a secret underground room.

Except this was no ordinary room. This was a forge, and the blacksmith was an elf.

Vaeril.

The priests hoped that the elf would kill me like he had his other minders, but for some reason, he didn’t.

A deep, booming sound fills the air around us, startling me back to the present as the castle seems to shake around us. Yanking my hand away from the elf, I look up at the high ceiling, my heart pounding in my chest. Before I was dragged down here, the king murdered his wife, the queen, and ordered the mass slaughter of all slaves. As a result, a fight had broken out in the main courtyard. I assume the unrest has escalated, and that’s what is causing the trembling of the castle around us. No one other than the priests know I’m down here. If the ceiling collapses, I doubt they will come to find me.

Vaeril makes a noise, so I pull my weary gaze from the ceiling to look at him. He’s scanning the room, his eyes taking in every little detail, searching for threats as he drops into a defensivestance, eyeing the closed door between us and the guards who block our exit.

“They are going to kill us, you said so yourself,” he comments, his posture straightening as the noises quiet down and he realises that, for now, we are safe. “What’s your plan?”

He’s right, they’re going to kill us next, just like all those slaves who were massacred. Not to mention the queen. I can still see her face in my mind, her defiant expression before the king sliced her neck like a butcher would slaughter a pig. Her corpse untied and thrown to the floor with total disregard.

“I’m not sure.” I wish I sounded more confident, and I wish I had a plan, but all I have is the Mother’s guidance. I am so far out of my depth that I feel like I’m drowning, but She hasn’t let me down thus far, I just need to trust in her. Vaeril, however, doesn’t have the same reassurance. Narrowing his eyes, he takes a step towards me, and I instinctively move back with my heart in my throat as my mortal enemy stares down at me. Seeing my fear makes him pause, his frown deepening.

“When I said I would trust you, I thought you had a plan.” His voice is clipped. I’d been expecting him to shout, I can see the anger and frustration in his expression, but he’s really attempting to tone it back. Why? Because he saw my fear? Why would he care? As if on cue, the strange, pulling bond between us pulses, and from the widening of his eyes, I know he felt it too.

So many questions. I wish I had answers, that I knew what to do, but I don’t. So, I do the only thing I can. Taking a deep breath, I drop to my knees, close my eyes, and pray.

“Great Mother, I pray you hear me, guide me. What should I do?”

---