Page 75 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

A part of me had been so worried that with Grayson gone, anything could happen, but I never should have doubted him. He’s always looking out for me, even when he’s not here. Smiling, I nod gratefully.

“You ready?” he asks, and I get the impression that even if I wasn’t, the guards would make things difficult for us, so I simply smile and nod once again. “Great!” He offers me his arm, and I loop mine with his, glancing over my shoulder to see Jayne watching with a concerned look on her face.

“Remember what I said last night,” I say quietly, reminding her of the plan I have with Tor. In case something happened to me today, I want to make sure she knows there is a way out. Tor would help them, even if I wasn’t around anymore, I’m sure of it. She simply nods her head solemnly, like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“What were you two talking about?” Wilson inquires, as we enter the corridor and start walking slowly. It’s quiet, and we barely see anyone, even as we enter the main corridors.

“Oh, just about dresses,” I chirp lightly, and I see his eyes sharpen as he looks at me. Wilson knows I’m not the kind of woman who sits around and talks about clothes and jewels, but the guards don’t know that.

“I see,” he replies, ending the conversation, but his expression tells me this isn’t over. When we’re alone, I know he’s going to grill me.

The rest of the walk is in silence until, too soon, Priest Rodrick appears as if out of nowhere, his expression darkening when he sees the mage on my arm.

“Ready for your penance, 625?” he questions in that dramatic, over the top voice he uses in services to appear better than everyone else. I know now he does it on purpose, having heard his real voice before when he lost his temper.

“That’s not her name anymore, and you know it,” Wilson growls, taking a step closer to the priest. The guards shift, their hands going towards the weapons strapped to their waists. Rodrick looks at Wilson and sneers, staring down his nose at the young magician.

“Call your dog off,” he orders in that haughty voice of his, and I know he’s doing it to piss off Wilson. It works.

“How dare you—” Wilson starts, but I cut him off with a hand on his arm.

“It’s okay, don’t rise to it,” I interject quietly, watching as he takes a deep breath, pulling his eyes from the priest to look directly at me. After a couple of seconds, he seems to calm, and I give him a tiny smile which he returns with one of his own. The sound of clapping has me looking up, and I see Rodrick is sneering at me this time.

“My, my, you do work quickly.”

Wilson stiffens, but I just shake my head slightly. Now is not the time to pick a fight with the priests, especially not with two guards behind us who are practically vibrating with anger and violence. I know what he’s implying, but I don’t care.

Thankfully, the priest gets tired of waiting for a response, so he just snarls and starts walking, leading the way. We follow, and the ominous presence of the guards behind us obviously make Wilson nervous—I can tell by the way he keeps glaring at them over his shoulder.

“Where are we going?” he asks me quietly after we enter the older part of the castle. It’s usually quiet here, but I haven’t seen anyone other than one lone priest who dipped his head in greeting to Rodrick.

I’m not sure what to tell him. I’m pretty certain that Wilson doesn’t know about Vaeril, and telling him could put his life at risk. I doubt the priests are going to let him come into the underground room with me, and I’m right. Reaching the corridor with the secret door, Rodrick turns and blocks the way forward.

“This is as far as you go, mage,” he jeers.

Wilson frowns and shakes his head. “No, I’m to accompany the lady.”

“Yes, to and from her task. This is where you leave her. You can return later today, just before evening meal.” The priest dismisses him with a wave of his hand, and I don’t miss his brief smirk before he turns to the guards and nods his head to them. Moving from their spot behind us, they step up to my side and each grab my upper arms in their tight grips and pull me from him. I’m quite used to this treatment by now, but Wilson isn’t, and he looks outraged.

“You can’t expect me to trust you!” he shouts, taking a step forward as if to snatch me back. “Let go of her.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.” This time Priest Rodrick lets his full smirk be seen, knowing he has the upper hand.

Magic starts stirring in the corridor, and I quickly look to Wilson, whose fists are clenched so hard I can see the whites of his knuckles.

“Wilson, it’s okay,” I urge soothingly, and relief fills me when he pulls his gaze from the priest and looks at me instead. I give him a small, gentle smile. “I promise.”

“Clarissa...” He looks torn. I know he wants to protect me, but he can’t risk using magic against the priests again, especially since there are two armed guards holding me.

“I’ll see you later.” I keep my voice light, and don’t give him an opportunity to say otherwise. The guards begin marching me farther down the corridor, and as I glance over my shoulder, Isee the mage and the priest scowling at each other. Their lips are moving, so I know they’re talking to one another, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. One of the guards yanks my arm, and I’m forced to face forward as they lead me away. After a couple of minutes, the priest joins us again, and as I peek over my shoulder, I half expect to see Wilson following us, but the hall is empty.

Reaching the door, the priest opens it and gestures for me to go first. I know from the past that they will push me down if I don’t descend quickly enough, so I enter the stairwell without complaint, the priest and the guards following me down. The spiral staircase is narrow and I’m not quite sure how the bulky guards fit. It pleases some dark part of me that this must be uncomfortable for them.

The guards at the bottom of the staircase snap to attention as soon as we enter the room. The large doors to the forge are pulled closed. There’s a sliding metal hatch that allows them to see inside without having to open the door, but most of the time the elf goes unwatched. I use this opportunity to look around, taking note of how many guards are down here—four—and their weapons—swords and crossbows. They seem so sure that his magical cuffs can contain him, as they have for the last hundred years, that their security has become a bit lax over time. These are all things that we can use and exploit when it’s time for us to escape.

“I wasn’t sure we’d see her again, not after those mages showed up,” a grizzled voice calls out, bringing my attention back to the guards. Turning, I recognise the guard from the last time I was here. He looks pissed off, watching me with a scowl.

“The magicians aren’t in control, they are merely an annoyance.” Rodrick walks over to the guard who was speaking, and I realise he must be the one in charge down here. The two of them talk in hushed voices. The two guards I entered withgrab my arms again and part drag, part march me over to the large door. Two more guards walk over and start the process of opening it, the heat from the forge hitting us as soon as they start. It’s heavy, which I can tell from the grunting and straining of the two guards as it opens inch by inch. I wouldn’t be able to open it, but an elf shouldn’t have trouble with it if the stories of their strength is true.

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