Chapter 15

I hate travelling, it's official. As a slave, I'd spent most of my time working in the castle in the capital, except for my first year where I worked in the farms. So other than when I'd been manacled, blindfolded, and thrown into a carriage, I'd never travelled much in my life before I was freed. It's boring, and I hadn't quite realised how big the continent was.

I end up thinking about that phase of my life a lot. I have plenty of time to do so, after all. I think about the hours we spent labouring in the fields, burning and dehydrated in the summer sun and freezing in the winter. The weather in the north of Morrowmer is harsh, and the farms, which are situated just outside of Arhaven, have very little shelter. The farms were worse than the city, the beatings and the way female slaves were treated was awful. I'm not sure why I was moved to the city. The official reason was that I was too young, but at nine, I certainly wasn't the youngest slave there.

"Are you okay?" Vaeril asks quietly from my side, his leg brushing mine as he brings his horse closer.

It's been two days since we left the wood elves and had the encounter with the forest witch. Ever since, I've felt their eyes on me, as if they're expecting me to fall apart or spontaneously start producing magic. I surprised them when I managed to break all of the witch's spells. I'm stronger than they thought. The witch's words scared me because I know they're true, or at least they could be.

"I'm fine," I insist, just like the other five hundred times they've asked me since the other day. He can feel my confusion down the bond, and me reliving my past probably isn't helping. Feeling bad, I glance across at him and take in his frowning countenance. "Sorry."

His face softens, and he reaches over, squeezing my leg. "We will figure everything out." Ever since we sealed our bond, he's been much more touchy-feely, and surprisingly, I like it. At least, I like it when he touches me.

Nodding my head in acknowledgement, I try to smile, wishing I could agree with him. "I just get the feeling something's about to happen." I see the others stiffen and turn on their horses to look at me as I speak, obviously eavesdropping on our conversation.

"Like what? Is the goddess trying to tell you something?" Vaeril asks, trying to pull my attention back to him. His voice is calm, but I felt his flash of alarm through the bond. That's one of the downsides of having this connection, I can feel everything he feels, and I have no idea how I'm going to cope with having three connections.

What about Eldrin? my traitorous mind points out, and I quickly try to shove those thoughts as far away as possible, but they drag up unwelcome feelings. I worry about Eldrin. The queen sent him away before we left to visit the wood elves, and then the attack happened and we were branded traitors, having to go into hiding. Even if Eldrin managed to escape the battle, how would he find us? Would he even want to? Plus, he has a complex relationship with the queen. Would he betray her and join us? Although she hates him, he's been desperately trying to gain her approval for years, something she exploits. Even just thinking about her and the way she treats him makes anger bubble in my stomach.

Vaeril watches me with an unreadable expression as I think of his friend. I know he's worried about Eldrin, and Naril has been almost unbearable since we left the wood elves, but there's an unspoken question there. Why do I care? Do I care because he became my friend when he was teaching me to defend myself, or is there something more? Not that there could ever be anything more. I am bonded, I have a mate, and I have connections with two other men. Eldrin and I have no fated connection, we could never be anything more than friends.

"Clarissa?" Tor calls, and I snap out of my thoughts, pulling my gaze from Vaeril to glance over at the tribesman. We've not spoken much since he appeared the other morning and he discovered that Vaeril and I have sealed our bond. He once told me that he knows about my connections and he wouldn't make me choose, but actually seeing it first hand is very different. Slowing his horse, he drops back so we can talk easier. "You have a feeling?" he prompts, reminding me of the original question.

Nodding, I sit back in the saddle as much as it will allow. "Yes, I can't shake it." The nagging feeling in my gut that something is coming is growing with each second that passes, but I can't determine what it could be. Usually, I would feel a sense of dread or fear, but instead I just get the impression that whatever it is, it will be important.

Naril snorts ahead of us, his back to me as he rides. "Brilliant, some other disaster for us to deal with." His tone is scathing, and Vaeril lets out a long-suffering sigh beside me.

Frowning, I reach forward and absentmindedly stroke my horse's mane. "I'm not convinced it's a bad thing… Just something…big."

Snorting one again, Naril stops his horse and turns around to face me. "Well, that's mysterious." His face is set in a scowl. "I betrayed my race to follow you, and that's all you can tell me? That something is going to happen? But you don't know what, when, or why?"

His words make me flinch like he's hit me. His expression changes as soon as he sees my reaction, like he wants to apologise, but he steels his features, faces forward, and encourages his horse to start walking once more.

Vaeril's angry that Naril has upset me, but he's also concerned at the change in his friend's behaviour. Ever since the witch, he's been distant, moody, and avoids spending any time alone with me. "Ignore him," Vaeril suggests. "He's worried about Eldrin. I'll go talk to him." Squeezing my leg again, he steers his horse over to his friend, and the two of them ride side by side.

Tor stays where he is, riding just ahead of me, but I'm still in his peripheral vision, enough that I have space to be on my own but still feel safe. It feels like we've been in this forest forever, and I fear we're just walking in circles, but Tor seems to know where he's going. Everything looks the same here, the trees all blending into one, and before long, I'm bored again.

"How far away are we?" I call to Tor, who glances at me over his shoulder, flashing me a smile. My stomach flips as I'm reminded why I like Tor. He's not classically handsome like Grayson, or beautiful like Vaeril, but his grin and the way he makes me feel is way more attractive to me.

"We'll be leaving the forest soon, and then we will be entering the mountains," he answers, and pulls a piece of parchment from his pocket. Slowing his horse so we're riding side by side, he unrolls the parchment and shows it to me. It's a picture, and it takes me a couple of moments to realise what it is. "This is a map," he says, confirming my thoughts. "We're here." He points to a dense patch of little triangles and lines that I realise are supposed to represent trees. The area is huge. "This is the forest. To the west is Galandell." His finger moves across the map, and he points to a miniature sketch of the elf palace. "See this?" He points to a large swath of jagged lines that go across the right edge of the map from top to bottom. On that section are little triangles that look like crudely drawn tents. "These are the mountains, my home." He smiles proudly as he gestures to the huge area of the map.

"They are massive!" I exclaim, my eyes wide as I try to contemplate how anything could be so big.

"Yes, they stretch the width of the continent." He gestures again, and I glance from our location to the huge stretch of mountains, hoping his tribe is close by. "The tribes move around, but my clan will be around here." He indicates a patch about halfway up the mountain range. My heart sinks as I realise how far away it is.

"That's a long journey." I can't keep my disappointment out of my voice, but Tor just laughs.

"It will be worth it, I promise."

Glancing at the map again, I see something written on the other side of the mountain range, but it's been scribbled on and there doesn't seem to be anything else on that side. Frowning, I point to it. "What's on the other side of the mountains?"

An uncharacteristic frown crosses Tor's face as he sees where I've pointed, which only serves to make me more curious. "That's the Fae Lands. We've sent a couple of search parties out there, but no one has ever returned."

Fae Lands? Like elves and such? Looking over at my elvish companions who are talking quietly ahead of us, I wonder if they know anything about these Fae Lands, and why Tor looks so uncomfortable talking about them.

"Why? Is it dangerous?"

"Very." Tor nods, his voice grave. "There's a tribe who travels right along the border. They are a strange and superstitious bunch, but they are superb fighters. Anyone or anything that could take one of them, let alone a whole hunting party down, is dangerous." He shakes his head, and I can tell he's lost in his story. "At our meets, they've reported seeing strange creatures out in the fog, but as long as they stay in the mountains, they're safe."

He falls silent, rolling up his map and placing it back in his pocket, and I know that's all he's going to say about the Fae Lands for now. That's when I remember my gift from the sea elves. Turning on my horse, I lean back and search through my bag until I find my wayfinder. I still haven't worked out how to use it, but I'm sure I'll have plenty of time on this trip to figure it out. Naril and Vaeril had seen them before and were there when we found the gift at my door, but they had no idea how they worked. Tor, however, hasn't seen me with this before, and is watching with interest. Gently pulling it from its wrappings, I place it into the center of my palm and examine the beautifully carved symbols, wishing I knew what they meant. The little dial instantly starts to spin, circling the device a couple of times.

"That's the most unusual compass I've ever seen," Tor remarks, breaking my stare. Glancing up, I see he's looking at the wayfinder with a raised eyebrow and a quirked lip.

"Compass?" I ask, the word sounding familiar, but I can't think where I've heard it before.

Nodding, Tor reaches into his pelt and pulls out a small metal disk. When he opens it, I see it has a dial that admittedly does look similar to the wayfinder, just much less embellished and it doesn't move or spin like mine does. "It's a device that helps tell which direction you're going in," he explains before putting it away. "May I see that?"

"Of course." Leaning over, I gently pass him the device, smiling at how small it looks in his huge hands as he cradles it. As before when Naril looked at it, the dial instantly stops spinning as soon as it leaves my hands. "It was a gift from the sea elves. They call it a wayfinder," I inform him, watching as he raises it up to examine it further, one of his fingers tracing over the engravings. "Apparently, it's spelled with magic and will only work for the person it's keyed to, except I have no idea how it works."

Tor looks up at me, surprise etched onto his face. "The sea elves gave this to you?" he asks, and as I nod, I can't work out why he's so surprised. He carefully hands it back to me. "Can I see how it works?"

I place it in the palm of my hand, the dial spinning as soon as I touch it. Making a steady, anticlockwise circuit around the face of the wayfinder, it bounces twice against a symbol that looks like a heart with a dagger through it, before reversing and making several clockwise circuits.

A strange feeling washes over me, telling me that whatever the wayfinder is trying to show me is important. Could all this be related? I theorise, remembering my earlier feeling that something big is going to happen soon. I look at the symbol the needle stopped on, and a jolt of fear runs through me. A bleeding heart rests in a palm with a gleaming dagger pierced through it. That can't be good, right?

Tor is humming beside me, still watching the wayfinder, the needle of which is now moving around erratically. It's pointing behind me, jumping around, not pausing on any one symbol, and then it jumps and seems to be pointing between two symbols. I look up and see it's exactly where Vaeril is riding ahead of me. I open my mouth to say something, but the needle spins away, this time seemingly pointing at Tor. Glancing up, I see Tor frowning down at the wayfinder, his eyes meeting mine as the needle spins away again, bouncing behind me. I turn to look behind me, but there's nothing there. Shuddering, I wrap the wayfinder up and put it away, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden, especially with the way Tor's looking at me right now.

"So, the queen seemed to like you." My bitterness is obvious, and I wince internally, but it's too late to take it back now. I needed to change the topic and make Tor think of something else other than the wayfinder, but I don't know why I picked that topic.

Tor groans and tilts his head back to look up at the tree canopy. "Do we really have to talk about this?" he queries, still looking up at the leaves.

Something twists inside me, something I'm not used to feeling—jealousy. Why doesn't he want to talk about it? my inner voice asks, spinning ridiculous scenarios. I know Tor wouldn't do these things, but it doesn't matter. Now that the doubt is there, it's like a disease, infecting me with its tight grip. "Why not? Do you have something to hide?" My anger rises to the surface like a volcano, erupting out of nowhere. Naril and Vaeril stop their horses and turn around to see what's happening, their supernatural hearing picking up my outburst.

"No!" Tor exclaims, his expression twisting into one of confusion and frustration at my accusation. Pulling his horse to a stop, he turns to look at me. "Clarissa, why would you think that?" Hurt laces his tone, and that just makes me more angry, but at myself. Where are these feelings coming from? I don't want to feel this way.

I pull back on the reins, stopping my horse, and shrug my shoulders before scrubbing my hands down my face. The stress of the last few days is finally hitting me. "I don't know, I hardly know you, Tor!" My voice breaks as I speak, and I watch as his expression changes from frustration to realisation. "You turned up in Arhaven, then vanished, and then you reappeared to help children flee and cause a distraction for Vaeril and me to escape. The next thing I know, you managed to disappear and arrive at Galandell, best of friends with the queen and ambassador for the mountain tribes!" I'm rambling, my hands uselessly gesturing around me. Tor watches with an expression I can't place as he dismounts his horse and slowly walks towards me. "Then there's another attack, and you manage to escape again and magically turn up here!" I exclaim, my voice breaking again, and it finally hits me how close he was to getting hurt in the skirmish. He reaches my side and looks up at me, letting me continue my tirade.

Thank the Mother I didn't know about the attack before he turned up at the wood elves and told us about it , I think, taking a deep breath to stop myself from sobbing. "You always seem to be at the right place at the right time. You know all this stuff about me, but you won't, or can't, tell me any of it, and it's infuriating ," I say, emphasising the last word so he knows how much it's been bugging me that he has information about my past but can't share it. "I know nothing about you," I repeat, quieter this time, exhausted now that my anger is spent.

He waits for a few moments to ensure I've finished what I needed to say before raising his arms and placing them on my waist. Knowing what he wants to do, I swing my leg over the saddle so I'm sitting side saddle, and he gently lowers me to the ground. With him standing in front of me like this, he blocks out what little sun filters through the canopy, his body huge in comparison to mine. I remember the first time I saw him. He was among a group of his kinsmen, and there was nothing in particular that made him stand out until our eyes met. He looked intimidating with his large build, braided hair, and tattoos, but I've never been afraid of him.

"My name is Torsten. I am an ambassador for the mountain tribes, but I belong to the Eternal Brothers Tribe," he begins, his deep, slightly accented voice hypnotic. "I have a younger sister, Hilde, who has the heart of a lion. Our parents died when Hilde was young, so I have raised her for most of her life." My heart constricts painfully as he speaks of his parents' death, knowing it must have been hard having to try and raise his sister and deal with his grief. He looks older as he speaks of it, his tone heavier, but he doesn't stop. "My tribe believes women are born only to serve men." He pauses to shake his head, and although this isn't an uncommon belief in Arhaven, it still makes my blood boil.

"It is not a safe place for a woman such as Hilde. Some other men and I believe differently, and we have been gradually trying to change how they see women." Watching Tor as he speaks, I realise I'm not at all surprised with what he's telling me. If anyone was going to make a change, it would be him, and the fact that he's doing it to try and give his sister a better life…it makes me see him in a new light.

"Things are changing slowly," he continues, a small smile appearing as he talks. "As a people, we live in small tribes but have one overall elected leader. Our current leader is a woman." I nod, remembering him telling me this before. "I've been working with her to change things in the more…resistant tribes. She sent me, along with a group of others from different tribes, to Arhaven to try and make a deal with the king, but also…" He trails off, looking frustrated as he opens and closes his mouth, stumbling over his words. Finally, he sighs, and I know it has something to do with the magical oath he took. "I can't say any more, but she will explain that when we get there," he says, his expression apologetic. "But when I arrived at the human city, I was disgusted by what I saw. I was determined to get home as soon as possible. That's when I saw you." He shifts his weight now, and something in his eyes changes as he moves one of his hands from my waist to my shoulder. " Ematus , the connection, locked into place, and I knew I had to get to know you," he explains, and I remember the moment exactly as he recalls it. How his eyes had met mine, and how I felt like I knew him, even though I knew I'd never met him before. He hadn't been able to keep his eyes off me after that.

"I also saw how that magician looked at you, so I knew it wouldn't be easy, and I knew you were more than the lady you pretended to be." Taking a step closer, he presses his body against mine, and my breath catches in my throat at his proximity. Placing his hand on my cheek, he lowers his forehead to mine. "You know me, Clarissa. You can feel it through our connection, you know I speak the truth," he whispers, his voice low.

Closing my eyes, I reach for the connection between us. It's nothing like the bright, shining bond between Vaeril and I, but I know it has the potential to be, I can feel it. Tor shivers beneath my touch as I examine our bond, and although I already knew it, I get the sense he's telling me the truth. Pulling away from the bond, I slowly open my eyes. "I'm sorry."

I don't give him the chance to respond. I simply tilt up my chin so our mouths meet, and with a deep groan, he kisses me back. I'm aware of Vaeril and Naril standing nearby, but right now, I don't care. The kiss doesn't last long, but it's passionate and full of pent-up emotions. We had been in such a hurry to leave the wood elves and shocked with the news Tor had brought with him that I hadn't had the chance to greet him like I should have.

I pull away from the kiss, unable to hide my smile, and go to step away, except Tor is blocking my path with a cocky expression still on his face. "If you're going to kiss me like that, I'll let you shout at me any day," he teases, and I roll my eyes at him, pushing at his chest to make him to move, which he does. Stepping past him, I glance over at Vaeril and Naril, finding them standing by their horses not too far away, chatting with their backs to us. Vaeril looks calm, but I can see the tension in his shoulders and feel his unhappiness down the bond. Taking a deep breath, I go to walk over to him when a strange feeling flows over me.

"Clarissa?" Vaeril calls, turning towards me, obviously feeling something through the bond.

"Something is coming," I whisper, dread lining my stomach. Tor's face changes instantly as he starts to head in my direction. Vaeril and Naril are already moving with their superhuman speed as a massive surge of magic rolls over us.

Like a tidal wave, the three of them are washed away from me by an invisible force, being pushed back. As they try to rush forward, they crash into a barrier that's separating them from me.

"Clarissa!" Tor shouts, banging his fists against the invisible wall, his face twisting with rage. Vaeril looks pale as his hands glow green, his own magic trying to counter whatever is keeping us apart.

Another wave of magic makes its way towards me, so I turn from my friends to face it. I won't let it take me down while my back is turned. I want to see my enemy. Except the magic doesn't overwhelm me or take me down, it embraces me and feels…familiar.

A set of footsteps sounds through the woods, and I lift my head to see who's approaching. My eyes widen when I see the familiar figure.

"Grayson?"