Page 58 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

“Stop,” I demand as I rush forward, Grayson’s arms immediately wrapping around me as I reach him. I can hear Vaeril gasp for air as he leans against the workbench. The feeling of comfort and home fills me as I inhale Grayson’s scent. I hadn’t realised how much I missed him. He’s only been away a couple of days, but it suddenly hits me as I’m wrapped in his arms. I’ve never felt this before... missing someone… or being missed by someone.

“Clarissa, you’re okay,” he whispers, as he presses his face into my hair, seeming to calm with each deep breath he takes. A part of me feels complete here in his arms, and that scares me, but right now, I don’t care. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

A hissing noise fills my ears, like that of a cat being cornered, and I pull away from Grayson’s embrace to see the other three high magicians facing off against Vaeril, their hands raised and glowing with magic. The feel of that magic is so strong it’s hard to breathe, but the cold dread lining my stomach makes me move.

“Stop,” I shout, but my voice comes out in a croak. When I turn back to Grayson, he’s frowning down at me. His hand is still resting on my shoulder, like he can’t bear to break contact, and as I look up at him, I place my hand against his chest, my fingers forming into a fist and gripping his clothes. “Please, stop them. He wasn’t trying to hurt me.” I’m not quite sure why I sound so breathless and desperate. I don’t care for the elf, but that little part inside me, that pull we feel between us, is screaming that if I let him die, I will never be the same again.

“He’s the enemy, Clarissa, he never should have been here in the first place.” There is a slight growl in his voice, and I can hear his hate for Vaeril. His eyes seem to sharpen, and for a moment I think he’s going to go into euisa, the killing trance, but he shakes his head, his eyes running over my face. “He was always going to die. Seeing him with that blade raised against you…” His body seems to shudder as I pull away from him.

“No.” I refuse to let them kill him, and right now, I’m standing between him and the elf. I hope Grayson will come to understand, but the blind hatred in his expression as he lifts his gaze to the elf tells me all I need to know at the moment.

Turning, I see the other high magicians have formed a semi-circle facing Vaeril, and although they don’t seem to be doinganything, I can feel their magic in the air. The air continues to thicken as they gather a huge amount of magic, enough to kill.

“No!” I shout again, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m running over to stand in front of Vaeril as I throw both my hands up to deflect the magical blow.

Suddenly, everything looks different as I seem to have an out of body experience. Grayson is running towards me, his eyes wide and horrified as he realises what is about to happen. Two of the magicians make sharp gestures with their hands and stagger back, as if trying to recall their magic. The magician in the middle, the one who was gathering the magic, I realise, swears and attempts to stop his spell mid-action, but it’s too late. A bright blue ball of light flashes before my eyes as it shoots towards me. Vaeril curses in elvish and wraps his arms around me as if to pull me away, but the magic is travelling too fast.

My body convulses and falls to the ground as the magic hits me. It doesn’t hurt, but it overwhelms my senses, igniting every nerve ending as it works its way through my frame. I hear someone cry out, and someone else calls my name, while others shout prayers to the Mother, but I can’t make sense of what’s happening or who said what. I get the impression that this level of magic should kill me, yet I don’t feel like I’m dying, I feel… powerful. Just as that thought hits me, the energy seems to drain out of my body.

I’ve never felt so tired before. My limbs feel like I have rocks strapped to them, the weight making it difficult to move. Unconsciousness threatens to overtake me, and for a second, I crave the dark void it offers, but voices pull at my senses, and I know I need to wake up.

“Let go of her, elf,” Grayson snarls, and from the tightness in his voice, I realise he’s close to snapping. I can hear someone talking softly to him, trying to stop him from going into euisa. It’s not something that can be taught, but the magicians, ourprotectors, use it often when they fight for us in the war against the elves.

“You think I would hurt her? A girl?” Vaeril spits, his hand lightly flexing on my shoulder. I should be disgusted at that, being touched by my enemy, but I’m not. “You just tried to kill your own kind,” he growls, sounding more animal than man. There’s a pause followed by the sound of shifting feet.

“We were trying to kill you,” a cultured, older voice replies. “The girl is Goddess blessed, we wouldn’t dream of hurting her.” He sounds earnest, and although I don’t know him, I get the impression he’s someone I can trust, and he seems truly sorry that I was hit by the magic.

“Well you did.” The elf slides his hand down my arm, removing the cuff from my left wrist and exposing the marks there—the slave mark, the mirror of the one on the bottom of my spine, the three black Xs, and my Goddess mark just above—for everyone to see. I’m not sure what he’s looking for, but the silence grows heavy in the room.

Finally, someone breaks it. “How is she still alive?” I don’t recognise the voice, but they sound suspicious. Vaeril hisses as somebody takes a step closer. Sighing, I shift my body and finally open my eyes, but even that small movement makes me groan as fatigue pulls at me once again.

“That’s what I would like to know.” My voice is croaky, like I’ve been screaming, although I know I haven’t. Directly above me is Vaeril, his feline eyes narrowing as if daring me to move, but I can’t keep lying on the floor, not while people are flinging magic around. Letting out a deep breath, I push myself into a sitting position, my aching limbs making me wince. Assured that I’m okay, Vaeril stands and takes a few steps back, his eyes flitting up to the magicians.

“Don’t hurt him,” I blurt out, as Grayson and one of the other magicians step forward, offering me their hands to help mestand. With their aid, I get to my feet and put my back to the elf, facing the mages. “There has been too much death today.” I meet Grayson’s gaze. “Please. No more.”

His eyes soften and he glances over at the other magicians. I follow his gaze and study the men before me for the first time. They wear the same uniform as Grayson, and they hold themselves in a way that gives the impression of great power. The one on my left is the eldest of the four, his sandy hair and neatly trimmed beard speckled with grey. He has a kind face, but that doesn’t make him any less intimidating.

I knew Grayson was the youngest high mage to have ever been chosen, but one of the magicians, who’s standing back and watching me with a confused expression, can’t be that much older than him. I would guess he’s in his mid to late thirties. His hair is slightly darker than the others, a dirty blond bordering on brown, and he has hazel eyes that track every move I make. I realise, as I meet his gaze, that he’s the one whose magic hit me.

I don’t pay much attention to the last magician, I’m too busy watching the confused mage with hazel eyes and making sure I position myself between them and Vaeril. I won’t let them attack him again. The older gentleman sighs and looks at his fellow mages.

“The girl is right, there has been too much death today.” At his agreement, I feel my body starting to relax as I sag in relief. He’s the well-spoken man I heard when I was hit. Glancing back at Grayson, I see his contemplative expression before he sighs and gestures for me to walk towards the exit.

“But—” Before I can finish my protest, a voice interrupts me.

“Clarissa.” It’s the first time Vaeril has ever called me by my name, and I can’t stop the shiver that runs down my spine. I look over my shoulder, but his expression doesn’t give anything away, yet I know what he’s asking.

Are we still escaping? Will you come back for me?

I know our only chance of making it through this alive is to escape, but now that Grayson is back, this could change things…

Meeting his gaze, I nod my head once, the movement so minute that most wouldn’t see it, but with his superior eyesight, I know he does. Turning in a movement too fast for the eye to see, he stalks back over to the forge, picks up his hammer, and returns to his work. A hand lands on my shoulder and I flinch away before realising it’s Grayson. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to notice, his attention still on Vaeril.

“I’ll explain everything when we get back to my rooms. I just want to get out of this damned place,” Grayson mutters, running a hand through his hair.

With one last glance at Vaeril, I turn and slowly follow the magicians out of the underground chamber.

The magicians cast some sort of spell over me, which cloaks me from view as we hurry to Grayson’s rooms. However, they needn’t have worried as the castle was deserted and eerily quiet. Thankfully, we were able to avoid the Queen’s Courtyard and the main square where everyone had been slaughtered just hours ago. I’m not sure how I would have coped if I had to look at their fallen bodies again. Anger still simmers in my gut, and I’m not sure how I would react if I saw anyone who was involved in the murder of all those slaves.

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