Chapter 20

A banging noise wakes me from my sleep. Sitting up, I look around my room groggily, trying to work out what's going on. The sun is shining through the curtains, but Jayne hasn't yet come into my rooms, so I know it must still be fairly early. A shout echoes in the hallway that has me jumping from the bed and running to the door. Just as I'm about to reach out to open it, it flies open and a large, snarling guard stands in the doorway.

Heart in my throat, I stumble back, dread filling me as he takes a step forward. Except he never does, his body seemingly frozen as he growls, struggling against the invisible barrier, and the sense of magic reaching me reminds me of something Grayson told me—no one can enter my rooms unless I say they can. Feeling more secure, I try to push away my fear as I straighten to my full height and stare down the guard.

"Why are you here?"

"Come out here, filth," he spits, his anger at not being able to reach me clear. "You're to attend a…ceremony." The way he says it makes me shudder, his sick grin telling me enough. Whatever the prince and the others have been warning me against is happening. Glancing around him, I try to see into the corridor. Why isn't Grayson stopping them?

"Where's Grayson? I won't go anywhere without him," I state with more bite and confidence than I actually have. I want to curl up in a ball and hide, but I can't do that anymore. I won't.

"He's indisposed." My gut sinks again, what does indisposed mean? I know he didn't return last night, but why isn't he here now? Is he hurt, injured? Oblivious to my silent panic, the guard loses his patience. "Come with me, by order of the king."

My gaze snaps up to his. Order of the king. If I refuse, then I'm breaking the law, but I know something awful is going to happen, the Mother has assured me of it. I shouldn't go with him, and for the moment, I have a way to stop him from taking me.

"No."

His face contorts and he swears at me before backing away. I think I've gotten away with it when he strides back to the open door with a bedraggled Jayne. A fear like none other takes over me, an icy feeling of dread trickling down my spine. I'm not sure when Jayne became a person I care about, a person I would sacrifice myself for, but I do and she is.

"Come out or I'll kill the maid," he growls, and as if to prove his point he lifts one of his meaty hands up to her throat. To her credit, Jayne struggles against him, kicking, biting, and refusing to go down without a fight. All the while I have to just watch. He finally manages to grip her throat and I take a juddering step forward, my hand out in a stop gesture.

"Don't, Clarissa, you're safe in ther—"

Jayne's shout is quickly cut off when the guard's hand tightens around her neck. She starts to go red as her air supply is cut off, her arms flailing as she attempts to claw at his hands. I can't let her die. Stepping right up to the threshold of the door, I try not to let my panic show.

"Okay, I'll come with you, but you have to let her go." The guard turns to face me, gripping Jayne for another agonising couple of seconds with a look of satisfaction in his eyes. He's won. He releases her and she falls to the ground, coughing and gasping for air, clutching at her abused throat.

"Go inside my room and wait until Grayson comes back, you'll be safe in there." I hurry out of the room and grasp her, pushing her into my bedroom. A hand clutches my arm, but I don't bother turning to look at the guard as he starts to pull me down the corridor. "Remember no one can enter unless I say so, and only you and Grayson have that permission," I shout to her. She's now safely ensconced in my room, panting as she leans against the doorframe with a look of devastation on her face as I'm led away.

"Hurry up, filth," the guard growls, half dragging me as I try to catch my footing.

I want to ask where he's taking me, but I know I won't get an answer, and as he leads me through the rooms, I see there are two more guards waiting by the exterior door, their swords hanging at their waists, hands ready to grab them if needed. Staying silent, they fall into position behind us as the guard tugs me through the main doors and out into the corridor. I'm in my nightgown, the scars on my ankles on show for all to see, not to mention my slave marks, and my hair is in its natural state.

Everything is about to change.

Strangely enough, although I'm pretty sure I'm going to lose my life, I'm not sad. In these last few weeks, I have been able to experience what it's like to actually live for the first time. I will be upset to leave behind my friends—Wilson, Jayne, even Aileen—and I'll miss what could have been with Prince Jacob. I wish I had gotten time to get to know Tor and his people better. Then there's Vaeril and the strange connection between us. He might be my enemy, except there's something about him... And no one should be a slave, forced to work against their own people. But I'll miss Grayson the most, my saviour.

As I'm marched through the castle, I realise where we are going as we reach the large central courtyard that leads to the church. I can hear lots of high-pitched, confused, and scared voices, and as we enter the courtyard, I see that no one has been spared, everyone has been gathered here. The cold wind bites at my skin, the freezing, snow covered ground penetrating my bare feet.

Guards stand at all the doorways, stopping anyone from leaving

"Don't you know who I am?" an elderly man, obviously some sort of lord as his pyjamas are made from the finest quality silk, protests as he tries to push past the guards. One of them steps forward and backhands him across his face, the crowd around him gasping in horror before falling into an uneasy silence.

"I don't care who you are. King's orders," the guard spits, before returning to his spot.

As the guard continues to drag me, I can see the justice pillars gleaming like a beacon. My fear ramps up. I really don't want to be strapped to those pillars, I don't want to die. However, as we reach the front of the crowd, we stop, the other guard stepping up to my other side and grabbing my free arm so I can't move.

What's happening? If they were going to kill me, I'd be strapped to one of those pillars. I look around desperately for a clue as to what's going on and spot Wilson on the far side of the crowd with a scared-looking Aileen at his side. I can see Tor and his kinsmen in a group near the front, but thankfully he hasn't seen me.

A hush falls over the crowd as the king and Prince Rhydian step up onto the plinth by the pillars. The head priest and Priest Rodrick are standing just behind them, attempting to look serene and calm but they can't keep the cruel gleam out of their eyes.

"You're probably wondering why I dragged you all out here." The King's voice echoes around the courtyard, the whistling of the wind the only other sound to be heard. "There is a poison in this castle, a dark evil that is infecting my people, and I've come to a difficult decision. I have to eradicate this evil so the rest of my people will be safe."

There are some murmurs of agreement, but I have a sinking feeling about what's going to happen. The king gestures and two guards come forward, dragging a bound woman behind them. Her hair has been shaved off, but you can tell who she is by the way she holds herself—the queen.

"This is going to be a difficult time for us all, but we must be strong." As he speaks, she is dragged to the middle pillar and strapped to it, her hands behind her back as she faces the crowd. Her face is tear stained, but she doesn't cry now, no, she stares out, her eyes landing on the leader of the mountain tribesmen. "The queen, my wife, has been conspiring against us and has been tainted."

The king's voice continues to ring out. The crowd is starting to realise what's about to happen and shuffles nervously, half-hearted protests rising. The tribesmen look furious, but they stand stock-still.

"This evil can't be tolerated," the king shouts, as he palms a knife in his hand and spins, slicing the queen's exposed throat in one quick movement.

"No!" The word is ripped from my throat before I even realise it, watching as her body slumps, blood gushing from her and covering the platform. People in the crowd are shouting, a couple turn away to vomit.

"Liv!" I'm not sure how I heard the shout over all the other noise as people panic, but the pure shock in the voice has me searching for the owner. Tor's eyes are wide as he stares at me, his gaze running over me and then back to my hair. He shouts the name again and I think he's addressing me. The guards holding me tighten their grips and start to drag me away as if by some unspoken signal. The expression on Tor's face darkens as he starts to push his way to me, that strange feeling in my chest going taut. A fight breaks out in the crowd and he gets dragged back, his gaze staying on me as I'm roughly pulled toward the chapel.

"The evil has infected some of our slaves, so we need to wipe the slate clean to make sure it doesn't spread any further," the king continues. Half of the citizens are frozen in fear and the other half are fighting the tribesmen.

My eyes are ripped from Tor as I see a line of slaves being led up onto the stage and then strapped to the three pillars. A guard stands by each one, and as one, they swipe their swords across the slaves' necks. A raw cry is ripped from me as their still bleeding bodies are unshackled and thrown off the side of the platform, and the next three are marched up onto the platform for the same treatment.

Disgust, anger, hate, and rage run through my veins like a fire, and as I turn my gaze to the king, I see he's watching me and has the decency to look disturbed before he looks away.

"Father! What are you doing?" Jacob's voice reaches me, and I see him run into the courtyard, looking up at his father in horror. "Where is Clarissa?" he asks, looking around the crowd, but he doesn't even look at me as I'm dragged away, not recognising me with black hair. I see the moment Jacob spots the body of his mother, and the rage that overcomes him as he rushes at his father. Two guards jump in front of him and tackle him to the ground.

Fighting against the guards' hold, I try to break free. I don't know what I'll do if I manage to get loose, but that part of me that has been hidden for the last twelve years is trying to take control. But I'm not strong enough to escape, and as we reach the chapel and yet more slaves are killed, I meet Tor's eyes once more.

"Liv!" he shouts again, but I lose sight of him as I'm hauled back into the darkness of the sanctuary.

The doors shut behind us and I get a second in the dark to pretend this is all just a terrible nightmare. Just a dream that my brain has come up with based on all my insecurities.

I can't do this. This isn't happening. All those slaves—the queen—just slaughtered like they were nothing. My thoughts whirl and spin in a tangled web and I have to fight back a sob. People had been attacking the tribesmen. Tor called me Liv. Why? He'd looked like he'd seen a ghost. I hope Jacob will be okay, he might be related to the king, but he's been nothing but kind to me. A deep disappointment falls over me. I don't know why I expected Grayson to turn up and save us all, but it didn't happen. Where is he? Why didn't he come?

I know where the guards are taking me, and as Rodrick appears, his smile wide, I know I haven't escaped their purge of "evil." The only evil person I can see right now, though, is the priest, the person who is supposed to guide us and teach us the love of the Great Mother.

"The time has finally come, 625, for you and that elf ," he crows gleefully, his eyes running over me as we reach the hidden stairway. Turning, I spit at him, unable to hold back my disgust. I should have expected his sharp backhand, the pain and force behind it making me stumble, and since the guards had let go of me so I could walk down the stairs in front of them, I fell. Down I go, the sharp corners of the stone steps breaking and bruising my body. I don't know how many steps I fall down, but the priest's cruel laughter echoes off the walls and seems to follow me.

When I eventually come to a stop, I stay in place, panting and trying to focus through the pain, adrenaline running through my system.

"Get up," the priest demands as he reaches me. Biting back the agony, I pull myself up and walk down the rest of the twisting stairs. My thoughts are quiet as I use all of my energy to focus on walking and not falling down. When we reach the bottom of the staircase, the priest gestures toward the door, which the guards start to open. "Make yourself useful until we come to finish you."

"Why don't you just do it now?" It would be a mercy for him to kill me straight away, to stop this pain, both physically and mentally.

"I have orders." I can tell from his frown and clipped tone that that's exactly what he wants to do.

I stumble forward into the underground room, wanting to put as much space between the priest and myself. The door closes behind me and I take a few unsteady steps so I'm farther into the chamber. The constant sound of hammering stops for a second and I sway on my feet as I meet Vaeril's piercing eyes. The sob I've been holding back finally breaks free and I fall to my knees, pain racking my body. Curling in on myself, I try to focus on breathing, pushing away the images of all those slaves who were just blindly killed, their blood covering the ground as it poured off the platform.

"Clarissa."

I jerk back in surprise at how close the voice is to me, and as I look up, eyes wide with fear, I see it's Vaeril, his gaze scanning my body. Holding up his hands in a gesture of peace, he kneels down, the chain on his ankle keeping him from coming all the way to me.

"I need to see your wounds," he tells me, but I don't move, the horror of what I've just seen playing over and over in my head. "What happened?" His voice is soft, realising that my physical wounds aren't the only thing upsetting me.

"They killed the queen and they are killing the slaves, every single one," I gasp out, his cursing filling the space between us. The screeching sound of metal has me looking over at him again, and I watch as he reaches down and breaks the chain around his ankles with a flex of his arm. Walking slowly, cautiously, towards me, he crouches down again, taking a seat next to me.

Reaching out unhurriedly, he gently runs his hand over my arm, carefully prodding the skin and checking for breaks and cuts. I numbly let him, watching as he flicks me concerned looks. I probably shouldn't feel so comfortable sitting this close to him, but right now, I need him, need his support.

Lifting my head, I lean back slightly and he pauses, meeting my eyes.

"We're next. They're going to kill us," I say softly, and he simply nods.

"I know."

He continues to examine my bruised body, his limbs starting to shake as he keeps himself away from his work, the magical cuffs punishing him for deviating from his task.

Is this how it's going to end? In a forgotten underground room with my enemy at my side?

"What's that?" Vaeril questions wearily, backing away slightly from my glowing mark. A warm, gentle tingling feeling encompasses me, like a warm embrace, and I recognise the Mother's presence. Closing my eyes, I fall into that hug, feeling her love surround me.

" You need to be strong, my beloved. I didn't bless you without reason. Remember, I am with you, always. " Her voice reaches me, not something I can hear, but I can feel it deep within. I feel her pulling away and I blindly reach out, grasping for her, not ready for her to leave me just yet despite what she just said.

"I don't understand. Why me? What am I supposed to do?" My insecurities rise to the surface and I feel the weight of responsibility fall on me.

" You know, my beloved. You are stronger than you think. "

She leaves me with a final wave of power that floods through my body, so intense it's almost painful. Her presence fades and I open my eyes with a gasp, looking down at my now healed body.

"What just happened?" Vaeril inquires, frowning as he looks over my body. "You have magic?" He shakes his head as if he's not actually talking to me, but himself. "No, I felt another presence, like someone else was here."

"It was the Great Mother. My Goddess," I explain as he continues to frown, but I ignore him and think back on what she said.

I know what I need to do.

Taking a deep breath, I push to my feet, blessedly pain free. Looking around the chamber, I search—for what, I'm not quite sure. A hand circles my wrist and I spin to see Vaeril has followed me, his limbs shaking more violently now.

"What are you doing?" Confusion, frustration, and anger line his words, but I ignore him. The Great Mother wouldn't have come to me if it wasn't possible, right?

"We need to escape."

He laughs, waiting as if I'm going to deliver a punch line to my joke, but his face drops when he realises I'm being serious. Anger takes over and he grabs my other wrist and shakes me slightly.

"How are we going to do that? I have these, remember?" Roughly releasing my wrists, he shoves the stone cuffs into my face. I know the disgust in his voice is not aimed at me but at the cuffs, yet the words still sting.

Instinctively, I reach up to grab his wrist to stop him from hitting me, and a shock wave runs through me the moment my fingers graze the stone. My mark starts to glow again, flaring so brightly I have to close my eyes. I want to let go, but I can't, a wave of power rolling through my body.

"What are you doing?" Vaeril asks in awe as he watches. Opening my eyes, I see his cuff glowing, more so than the usual gentle light they usually give off. A draining feeling comes over me, and as I watch the light in his cuff simply disappears.

Falling back, I stumble to keep my footing before sinking down onto the ground, my body weak and shaky all of a sudden. My brain takes a moment to catch up and I stare dumbly at the now magic-less cuff.

"How did you do that?" Vaeril questions, suddenly in my face as his expression turns to distrust. "You have magic?"

"No! Why does everyone keep asking me that? I can sense and amplify magic, it was a gift from the Mother," I explain, exhausted. The cuff is still attached to his wrist, but the symbol is gone, leaving behind a simple stone band.

"Can you do it again?" he demands, holding out his other arm, the urgency in his voice scaring me. Holding my hands up in front of me, as if I can fend him off, I shake my head weakly.

"I don't even know what I did the first time!" I protest, and he seems to pause, his eyes taking in my exhausted expression and my slumped position on the ground.

"You don't just sense and amplify, you can break spells too," he explains, but I don't understand what he's saying. Break a spell? Like, unwrite it? "I can feel it, the pull to work has lessened, and I can already feel some of my strength and power coming back."

We both look down at his now plain stone cuff. The implication of what he's saying suddenly hits me. I can free him. He could help me escape— I could be free. But can I release my enemy? Is he really still my enemy, though, after everything that's happened today? I can't think, my thoughts are too tangled.

"I—"

He cuts me off, placing both hands on my shoulders, and he leans in to press a kiss against my forehead, whispering something against my skin. That strange pull between us flares to life and I know I can't just let him die, even if freeing him would condemn me in the eyes of my people. I'm not even sure if I have the strength to break the spell on the second cuff right now.

I wish I could ask Grayson about this.

Grayson. Can I really leave without saying anything to him? Can I run away without saying anything to any of them?

They would understand. If it's your life on the line, then they will understand that you did what you had to. I repeat those words over and over in my head. Who am I kidding, I can't leave until I know my friends are okay. It was a massacre in that courtyard, what kind of person would I be if I didn't check? That tingle I'm starting to associate with the Great Mother runs through me, and I know that whatever I'm doing, it's what she wants me to do.

Staring at the elf, I go through my plan in my head. He's still kneeling in front of me, his hands on my shoulders, waiting for my answer.

"Okay, I'll help you."

"You can get us out of here." His voice is full of awe, a smile gracing his face, and I realise how beautiful he is when he smiles. " Alina ," he whispers, the word sounding beautiful with his lilting accent, and I feel something settle over me. "In my culture, that means ‘my salvation.' The name is fitting, for that's exactly what you will be."

I feel overwhelmed. I've gone from having no name to having more than I can count. The pressure of what he's implying threatens to break me, but I can't let it. Taking a deep breath, I lean back a little, needing some space.

"I will help you, but we can't leave. Not yet." His face darkens and his hands drop from me as I continue, "There's something I need to deal with first, and I'm going to need your help." I hope he can feel how earnest I am, feel the truth in my words. "Do you trust me?"

There's a long pause and I can't tell what he's thinking, his expression a blank mask. Trust is not something either of us do easily, so I know what I'm asking of him. When he leans forward again, it's with an expression of steely determination.

"What do you need me to do?"

This is only just the beginning.

In the games of war and deceit, will Clarissa and Vaeril survive, or will they get caught up in the Fires of Treason?

Fires of Treason, coming soon.