Chapter 10

" D id you sleep at all?" Vida chides as she runs her gaze over me.

Groaning, I rub the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying in vain to push back the weariness that torments me. The answer is no, or at least it feels that way. After Grayson's revelation, we returned to our respective groups to arrange a meeting. The tribes agreed to a conference almost immediately. The wood elves and sea elves were wary but decided to trust my judgement. If I thought they would be safe, they would go and hear what the magicians had to say. As I suspected, it was the high elves who were causing problems.

It was already late when I returned, and Eldrin had been pacing the treeline. As soon as he saw me, he was at my side, running his eyes over me, and I saw the moment he smelled Grayson on me with his enhanced fae senses. It was a good thing Grayson didn't come back with me, because I think Eldrin would have tried to kill him, if his snarls were anything to go by. After that, he wouldn't let me out of his sight, fighting me at every turn as I tried to organise the meeting with the high mages. Thankfully, Vaeril and Naril helped calm him down, taking him into the woods, and I was eventually able to crawl into my tent with Tor. It was a fitful sleep, and what sleep I did get was plagued with dreams of forsaken and the King of Arhaven, who laughed as he watched me crawling through puddles of blood to get to my dying mother.

"I'm fine," I reply with a tight smile. Looking around at the group, I can't help but feel a wave of anxiety.

The only way the mages would agree to meet with the elves was if one elf from each group attended the meeting. Speaker Hawthorn from the wood elves and Speaker Beck from the sea elves stand together, speaking in quiet voices. Beck is tall, broad shouldered, and blue skinned like all sea elves, with webbed fingers and toes, but he's adorned with shells on his pointed ears and around his neck. His simple shift-like clothing is beaded and also covered in shells. I met him briefly before, and like the sea elves I've encountered previously, he seemed soft spoken and kind. Vaeril stands near them, but instead of taking part in the conversation, he's watching me. It was agreed that, as my mate, he was the best option for the high elf representative. My aunt, as high chief, and the other eleven chiefs are here, and it was agreed that Vida, as one of the tribes' religious advisers, could attend. There is much the magicians don't know about the tribes, so this meeting is important if we are all to work together.

"Do you think this is going to work?" I keep my voice low, not wanting the others to overhear. We're just waiting for the mages to arrive now, and I find the steady, no-nonsense attitude of Vida calming, so I've been waiting with her.

Laughing under her breath, she looks at me from the corner of her eye. "Yes, have faith, beloved."

I groan at her use of the endearment. She's obviously heard the elves call me that and decided to adopt the term. "You too?" She grins at me and shrugs, but I can't help but smile, my mood lifting slightly.

The atmosphere shifts, and as I look up, I see four high mages have entered the clearing. Logs have been put out in a circular formation for us to use as benches, yet I get the feeling no one will sit. Entering the space, the mages come to a stop with Grayson in the center, his eyes immediately seeking me out.

"Greetings. Thank you for agreeing to meet with us," Grayson calls, pulling his gaze from me and making an effort to look at each of the representatives as he speaks. "My name is High Mage Grayson." He turns and gestures to the three mages behind him. Merrin, the oldest of the three, is standing the closest to him and has aged a lot since I last saw him. His hair is almost completely white now. His face still looks kind, and of the three, he's the only one who smiles at me. It's a small, tentative smile, but a smile all the same. Gifted with truth, Merrin would be a good ally to have on our side. Beside him is Ellis, the second youngest high mage ever to be gifted with magic. His messy, dirty blond hair and days old scruff are a far cry from the tidy mage I first met in Arhaven. His hazel eyes flit around the clearing, never staying on one person for long. The last of the high mages is Pierre, who is scowling at the elves and not bothering to hide his scorn.

I guess I know where the opposition to working with the elves came from , I muse to myself as I run my eyes over the mage. When I first met him, I likened him to a viper, and seeing him now, I think I was right. He seems coiled and ready to strike. His pure blond hair is slicked back, not a strand is out of place, and his blue and gold uniform is perfect, despite travelling miles to get here.

"These are High Mages Merrin, Ellis, and Pierre," Grayson introduces, gesturing to each man in turn. "I'm sure Clarissa has already explained, but we are here to fight against the elf queen."

"Why?" Vaeril's tone is sharp as he glares at the mages. My head snaps around to stare at him, and I see I'm not the only one. My aunt is also frowning at the high elf. What is he doing? Reaching for our connection, I try to soothe the anger I feel vibrating down the bond, but I can't tell if it's anger at the magicians wanting to work with us, or anger specifically at Grayson being here. Feeling my touch on the bond, he breaks his stare with the magicians and glances at me briefly, that anger stuttering for a moment before he turns his attention back to the mages.

Trying to de-escalate the tension in the clearing, Revna takes a step forward and clears her throat, pulling the focus from Vaeril. "Welcome, High Mages—"

"Who are you?" Pierre sneers with a look of disgust, cutting her off and not letting her finish her greeting. "We didn't come here to speak to you, we came here to speak to her." Pierre points at me, and the atmosphere suddenly darkens.

The chiefs bristle at the disrespect shown to their high chief, their hands going to their weapons and growls filling the air. However, they know better than to try to fight on her behalf. Revna didn't earn the role of high chief through diplomacy alone, and I've been told the stories of the brutal battles she won to get where she is today.

Taking a menacing step forward, she snarls at the high mage. "How dare you?" Her face twists, and I'm reminded of the warnings we were always given in Arhaven—never provoke someone from the tribes unless you want to die. I need to do something now before things get worse.

Stepping forward, I make my way into the center of the circle so I'm between the two groups. "She is the High Chief of the Mountain Tribes and my aunt," I explain, addressing Merrin and Ellis, needing them to understand. "I am just one person. The goddess may have told you to trust and follow me, but I still need guidance." Turning my attention to Pierre, I narrow my eyes. "So you might not want to piss off the only group that was happy to have you here." My speech only seems to excite him, his eyes lighting up and a slight smile twitching at the side of his mouth.

Thankfully, Merrin agrees with me. "Apologies, beloved. Pierre doesn't speak for all of us," the older magician says, our eyes meeting, and I get the feeling I can trust him. I remember the first time I met him and felt his truth magic when trust was something I rarely gave out.

Nodding my head in thanks, I take a deep breath and try to get us back on track. "You said you were here to fight the elf queen, why?" Of course I already know why they're here, but the others need to hear it from the magicians, and if they hear it from Merrin, they will know the truth in his words. Taking a step to the side, I move back so I'm at the edge of the circular clearing but not on any one side, just watching, ready to jump in should I need to.

Humming in agreement, Merrin clears his throat and takes a small step forward. "As you know, the magicians have fought for the humans in the war against the elves for centuries." The elves shift uncomfortably at the reminder of the war and that they are in the presence of elf killers. I can't help but notice Vaeril takes a step closer to the other two elves, automatically going to protect those more vulnerable than him, and I wonder if he even realises he's doing it.

"In the last decade, we have been petitioning with the king to withdraw. Using our magic in this way felt wrong when there were so many other ways to utilise magic for good," Merrin continues, looking over at me, and my heart constricts painfully in my chest. Merrin is too good for this world. Hope blooms inside me. Is what he says possible?

"Why would the goddess have given us the capacity to heal and create if she only wanted us to use our powers to destroy?" I feel like he's talking to me directly, and he speaks with such passion that I can tell this isn't the first time he's said this. Surprise flashes through me, and I realise it's coming from Vaeril's bond. Looking over at the elf, I see he's wearing a blank mask, but he can't hide his feelings from me—the magician has surprised him.

"When Grayson had the vision of Clarissa and came to us, we knew things were changing. I started to do some research. In our travels, we discovered a plague on the lands, a darkness. It reeked of dark magic, and when we traced it back, we believed it was coming from the queen."

As Merrin talks, I watch Grayson, reaching for him through the bond. He's careful not to let it show, but I feel his surprise as I gently tug on our connection. Trying not to look at me, he scans the clearing, and I feel his hopefulness. This meeting was going better than he expected. That was worrying, what had he expected? Returning my attention to Merrin, I nod my head at his explanation and how they tracked the darkness back to the queen.

"Some of us believed it was the elves rallying to attack us." He shoots a quick look at Pierre, then a radiant smile crosses his face. "But the Mother appeared to us and showed us a vision." His expression quickly changes to one of sadness. "To receive a vision is a great honour, but…" He pauses, gazing over at the elves with sympathy in his eyes. "In that vision, we witnessed elves being harmed by the queen." I can see why they chose Merrin to share this part of the story. Had it been anyone else, the elves could have said that the mages were making it up, trying to make the elves seem evil, but his truth magic fills the clearing. Also, the fact he genuinely seems to be struggling with what he witnessed is obvious. "She was harming her own people and turning them into…" He trails off, lacking the word, but I know exactly what he's describing.

"Forsaken," I whisper. The attention of the clearing turns to me, but I keep my eyes on Merrin, who is nodding slowly.

"That is a good name for them." Taking a deep breath, he glances back at his fellow high mages before turning to the elves. "Our king is responsible for numerous atrocities, and it was a shock to realise then that our king was no better than the queen. We thought long and hard about why the goddess would show us that vision. Was she exposing how evil the queen was and saying she needed to be stopped?" He pauses and seems to brace himself, as if he knows what he's about to say next is going to be unpopular. "That's when I had a thought. Perhaps the queen's people were just as innocent as ours were." My eyes grow wide, and there's a loud snort from Pierre, but otherwise, the snakelike mage stays silent. I can't quite believe what I'm hearing. I never thought the magicians would see past their hatred so easily. Having Merrin on our side will help hugely with convincing the rest of the mages, his gift of truth making them look past their prejudice. Perhaps this really can work.

"There are good and bad humans, just as I am sure there are good and bad elves," he continues. "Maybe we were given the vision because the Mother wants us to help the elves."

"Outrageous," Pierre sneers in disgust, striding forward and rounding on his colleague. Grayson moves and stands between them, but the mage doesn't get any closer, merely just turns to look at me. "This is where we disagree." His tone is full of mockery, but without another word, he spins on his heel and strides off into the forest with a flash of his cape. I'm not the only one watching him with narrowed eyes, and I can feel anger coming from both Vaeril and Grayson.

Merrin sighs and rubs a hand across his face. "I apologise for Pierre, his views differ from our own." As I gaze across the clearing, I notice Speaker Hawthorn and Beck watching the older mage with interest, their expressions thoughtful. "Now that we have broken from the king, we can finally make our own decisions, and I think we should make the right decisions."

A familiar presence settles over me, and when I glance down, I see my goddess mark is softly glowing. Smiling, I trace the mark with my fingers, feeling the Mother's happiness, and I know that although this is messy, things are happening as they should. I wonder if she will show herself as she did at the ceremony with the tribespeople, but the moment passes, and I quietly watch as the groups continue to interact.

"We have all come to the agreement that the elf queen needs to die," Ellis announces, speaking up for the first time, shifting uncomfortably under the sudden attention from the elves. "The difficulty will come in working together with the elves."

This catches my attention. Frowning, I step forward, and all eyes fall on me. "I won't let any of them come to harm. If there is any possibility that the elves will be in danger, I won't accept." It may seem rash, but I don't stop to check or get permission. To me, it's that simple. They are my people and they've come to me, so I make the decisions when it comes to their safety. "Can your people be trusted?" I direct the question at Ellis, but I glance at Merrin and Grayson, who nods his head slightly in approval.

My actions, however, are not appreciated by some.

"You cannot make those decisions for all of us!" Ragnar roars in protest, pushing forward from where he stands with the other chiefs. His face twists with anger, the tattooed streak of red across his face only making him look fiercer, but he doesn't scare me. "You are not the leader of me, girl ," he spits, jabbing his finger in my direction. "You cannot reject their offer!"

Fury radiates in my chest, and it takes me a second to work out that it belongs to Vaeril. Glancing at the elf, I see he's narrowing his eyes at the painted chief, his upper lip pulled back in a snarl, but he's not moved from his position. He knows how important this meeting is, and any wrong move could ruin any potential alliance with the magicians. So although he wants to jump forward and tear into Ragnar for disrespecting me and obviously not caring about any risk to the elves, he reins it in. Reaching for the bond, I send him soothing thoughts, and I know it's worked when I see him straighten, his fury abating. Pulling my eyes from Vaeril, I flick them over to the painted chief.

"Are you saying you would sacrifice the elves for numbers?" He stays silent as I stalk towards him. "They came to me. They put their trust in me ." Putting emphasis on the word, I tap my chest. "I'm the one who has to carry the responsibility of their safety, which is something I take seriously." I glance over and see Speaker Hawthorn and Beck observing me with solemn expressions. As I meet their gazes, they dip their heads in a sign of respect. The action shakes me a little, but I can't let that show while so many people are watching. Taking a deep breath, I turn back to Chief Ragnar. "Without me, they wouldn't be here, remember that." I know I brought the war to their door, but we both know the queen wouldn't spare them in all this. Once the elves fell, they would be next, sooner or later, so they are better off with me on their side, and he knows that.

"She's right, Ragnar," my aunt interjects, stepping forward and placing a restraining hand on the painted chief's shoulder. "The elves are hers to protect, we don't get a say in their safety." Relief fills me at her support, but I'm sure I'll hear from her later about making decisions that involve the tribe without checking with her first.

"Clarissa, my men can be trusted," Merrin assures me, calling out now that Ragnar has returned to his place amongst the chiefs.

"If you could show some of your power to the magicians, that would help. They are all completely loyal to the Mother," Ellis suggests, a haunted look flashing through his eyes, and I remember how we first met.

Ellis has the ability to push his will into his power. Grayson brought in the other high mages to rescue me from Arhaven, but when they arrived at the forge where Vaeril and I were being kept, they thought the elf was harming me. Ellis attacked, pushing his will to kill into the magic. I threw myself into the path of the magic, absorbing the blow. My body had unwritten the spell, but not before Ellis thought he killed me.

The idea of parading around in front of a group of mages and proving myself doesn't sit well, but if that's what I need to do, then I will. Judging by his stormy expression and the anger rolling down our connection, Grayson doesn't like the idea either, but Merrin is looking at him with sympathy.

"I know you are not keen on the idea, Grayson, but you have to admit that if they could see the Great Mother working through Clarissa as we have, it would help to foster better relations with the elves," Merrin proposes gently.

"If their faith is as strong as you claim, they shouldn't need to see Clarissa's gifts. It is not faith if you need to have proof," Vaeril argues, and I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from groaning aloud. Not because I disagree, but because he chose now to speak up.

I can tell Grayson agrees from the jolt of surprise and annoyance down the bond. Not that he would ever let the elf know, but I get the impression Grayson has been saying something similar to his fellow high mages. However, hearing it from an elf only seems to make the tension in the clearing ramp up.

"How dare you?" Pierre shouts, marching back to his position with the other mages, but I cut him off before things can escalate.

"I will meet with them," I agree, holding up my hand to try and calm the situation. I can't guarantee what will actually happen when I meet the magicians—that will be up to the Mother.

We need to try and wrap things up while they are still relatively peaceful. Glancing over at Vida, I decide now is probably the best time to introduce her. I gesture for her to come forward, and she joins me at my side, dipping her head in a gesture of respect.

"High Mages, this is Vida. She is a keeper of the sacred stones for the tribespeople and one of their religious experts," I announce, and notice they watch her with interest, particularly Ellis. "We asked her to attend so she can explain some of our shared history to you, if you are prepared to hear it?"

The four mages seem surprised, and although suspicion appears on Pierre's face, the others seem willing. "We are interested to hear what you have to tell us," Merrin answers with a small smile, and I see Vida's shoulders relax a little, put at ease by the older magician.

"Thank you, beloved." She nods at me before turning her gaze back to the mages. "Greetings. I am going to tell you the story of the gods and goddesses that ruled over us all, although it might be different than how you have heard it," she begins with a wry smile as Merrin raises his eyebrow. Grayson struggles to hide a grin as he folds his arms over his chest. "There were seven gods and goddesses, brothers and sisters who created Morrowmer—Holume, Macca, Jos, Nathius, Tia, Sabine, and Shea," she begins, and I remember someone mentioning Shea before and now realise who they were referring to. "Shea was the youngest and had many names, you know her as the Great Mother, the elves know her as Menishea , and she is also known as Mother Nature."

Vida continues to tell the story of how humans and elves were created, but war broke out and Tia convinced the Great Mother to team up with her against the other gods. Sacrificing a huge part of her power, she created the magicians to even the fight between the powerful elves and the weak humans. Eventually, Tia was killed, but they spared their youngest sister, seeing only good in her and knowing she was led astray. The gods became bored with the humans and elves, so they left Morrowmer and their creations behind. Except, the youngest goddess stayed. The Great Mother was weak after creating the mages, so she had to withdraw, only able to watch as the world fell into chaos. She would rebuild her strength, and one day, she would return to unite her creations.

"So, you see, we all worship the same goddess, we just know her under different names," Vida concludes, gesturing around the clearing. "Are we really all that different?"

Pierre snorts and scowls, striding forward and leering down at Vida with such menace that I step back. Vida, however, only narrows her eyes and stands her ground. "I've never heard such a load of—"

"Enough," Merrin barks, sharply cutting him off, and it's a good thing he does, because Vida's fellow tribespeople don't react well to one of their keepers being threatened, their hands hovering over their weapons. Pierre backs off, skulking to his original spot with many narrowed eyes following him as he goes.

"I have read mentions of some of these other gods before in the old texts, and we all know that the Mother goes by different names. Why else would she be directing us here to work with the elves?" Merrin questions his colleagues, excitement brightening his eyes. Ellis nods, wearing a thoughtful expression on his face as he continues to watch Vida closely. "Try to look past your hatred, my friend." This last comment is aimed solely at Pierre, who has adopted a carefully blank expression. That worries me more than anything. I'm used to seeing scorn and hatred on his face, I don't like not being able to tell what he's thinking. "I would need to do some more research, but thank you for sharing that with us. Absolutely fascinating." Merrin mutters the last part to himself, and I can see the researcher in him. I'm sure he and Master Ardeth would get on well and would be able to see past each other's race. "Would you mind if, at a later date, I ask you more questions?" he asks Vida, and I can't hide my smile, knowing he's dying to learn more but realises it's not the right time or place.

"That would be fine," Vida replies with a tight smile, recognising the same thing about the magician but still on edge from his colleague's verbal attack.

Ellis clears his throat, and when I glance over, I notice he's looking at me with a determined expression on his face. "We still need to talk about the king."

I'd been dreading this, and so far, we managed to get through the whole meeting without this coming up, and I hoped that they would discuss it with me in private. My hope was short-lived. I know I have to appear strong in front of everyone, so I try to keep as still as possible so as not to give away my true feelings. Vaeril must feel my distress through the bond, though, as he appears at my side, placing his hand on the small of my back in a show of support. Glancing over at Grayson, I can see him gritting his teeth. He wants to be the one supporting me, not standing apart as his fellow mages upset me.

"He gave us a message to give to you," Ellis continues, unaware of my internal struggle.

"I know about the message." The words come out sharper than I intended, and from Ellis' arched eyebrow, he hadn't expected my ire. Blowing out a frustrated breath, I try to soften my tone. "How did he get it to you?"

This is something that had been bothering me since Grayson told me the king had given them a message. They split from the king while we were still travelling to the mountains, before we joined with the tribes, which was some time ago now. So how was it that the king has only recently given them a message for me? Unless they had the message for some time?

"He somehow knew we would be coming to you," Merrin informs me, realising the story would probably sound better coming from him. "He sent a messenger to the guild. We were already on the way here, but we have a mage who can communicate mind to mind, whom we left at the guild for such purposes. He immediately contacted me and informed us of the message."

I raise my eyebrows. Being able to communicate mind to mind is a useful skill. Even with my mates, I can't have conversations via our bonds, we can only sense each other's emotions, so I'm amazed by this revelation. "Can you trust the mage?"

"What did the message say?" one of the chiefs, Erik, asks at the same time. I glance over at him, and we share a small nod. I don't blame him for wanting to know. As soon as I broke the news to the chiefs last night that the king had a message for me, they had been trying to guess what he wanted. I'm surprised they had managed to wait this long before asking.

Merrin glances between the two of us, settling his gaze first on me. "I trust him implicitly. I trained him myself," he reassures me with a small smile. Turning to the chiefs, he nods at Erik, but his expression is much more serious as he purses his lips, as if trying to decide how to phrase something. With a sigh, he looks to the youngest mage. "Grayson, why don't you explain what the message said."

There's a quiet muttering around the clearing as the chiefs discuss why Merrin wouldn't want to tell us himself. I even hear Ragnar suggest it's because they are trying to deceive us, but I know the true reason. This message is aimed at me, and the high mage believes it will be best coming from my mate, someone I love and trust. Given the anger and dread emanating from Grayson's end of the bond, I'm not looking forward to hearing what the king has to say.

Stepping away from the other mages, Grayson closes the gap between us, his eyes locking on my face. He stops a couple of steps away, aware of the elf at my side and the many sets of eyes keenly watching our every move. "The king has formally invited you and your…escorts to attend a ball in Arhaven."

Whatever I had been expecting from the King of Arhaven, that had not been it. He wants me to attend a ball? My brain tries to make sense of the logic behind not only inviting me back, but as a guest to a ball. I'd been expecting an execution warrant or an order to return to face my ‘crimes,' but once again, he was dressing me in satin and parading me around. The king, it seems, loves to play his games.

"It's a trap, it has to be," Vaeril bites out, a slight growl in his voice, his anger barely contained. He knows what returning to Arhaven would do to me, what the thought of returning is already doing to me. A steadying purr reaches me through the bond, and I know he's trying to calm me, to stop the fine tremble that has taken over my hands. Trying to even my breathing, I ball my hands into fists and blow out a slow breath. I hadn't even realised I was shaking, and hopefully, no one else had either.

"That's what we thought at first," Ellis interjects, shaking his head. "But that's not all."

I hadn't taken my gaze off Grayson, who is looking resigned now as his eyes flick briefly to Vaeril before settling back onto me. "He wants to ally himself with you."

Vaeril curses loudly in elvish and starts to turn as if to storm away, but he snarls as if remembering where we are and returns to my side. The mages watch him warily, Pierre's hand glowing softly at his side, but none of them make a move to attack him. Reaching out, I take Vaeril's hand in mine and send him a single thought down the bond. It seems to break through his anger as he turns to look at me, his feline eyes still narrowed, but he jerks his head in agreement. Whatever happens, we do this together.

Knowing I need more answers, I look back up at Grayson, who is watching us with an odd expression.

"Why? I don't understand why the king would do that." I know the queen will eventually turn her forces on the humans, but for the time being, we are her target. Which is why it makes no sense for him to become allies with his enemy.

Merrin sighs and speaks up. "He wants protection from the elf queen, and in return, he will lend his forces in the battle," he answers, looking sympathetically towards me. "You are the better of two evils."

"We don't need them," I reply automatically, fear driving me. My aunt frowns, taking a step towards me, while chief Ragnar cries out in outrage. I haven't consulted them, I know I should have, but it's not them the king is playing with. I turn to face my aunt, and I don't know what she sees in my expression, but she stops in her tracks, her eyes hard as they flick over my face. "I'm not going back there." My voice cracks with emotion, and I feel Vaeril fighting against his feral fae nature. Tor's bond is pulsing with concern and frustration, hating that he can't be here with me and that he's left out of the conversation.

"Clarissa, there's more," Grayson calls softly, and when I look at him, I know whatever he's going to say next is going to hurt. He doesn't want to tell me, I can feel his regret. "I only just found out about this before this meeting took place," he urges in a low voice, needing me to know he hadn't been keeping this information from me last night.

True fear pulses through me now. What has Grayson so worried that he's justifying himself to me? My mind plays over all of the terrible things that could have happened, all of the awful things the king might have done or demanded, each one worse than the last. The longer the silence stretches, the more my nausea grows. Glancing at Vaeril with wide eyes, I turn back to the mage, reaching out and taking his hand, unable to wait any longer. "Grayson, what is it?"

"The king is threatening to kill Jacob if you don't attend." Although he says it as softly as possible, it still feels like I've been hit with a physical blow.

It takes me a few seconds before I can put my thoughts into words, my complex feelings for Jacob, the king, and returning to Arhaven making it difficult. But ultimately, I know I couldn't live with myself if I allowed anything to happen to Jacob. My gaze has fallen to my goddess mark, which is glowing softly, as if the Mother herself is reassuring she is with me. Lifting my eyes, I look first at Grayson and then to Vaeril. "I can't let that happen." My words are a whisper. The journey will be hard for me, but it would be worse for him. I can't, and won't, expect him to come with me, not after he was a captive there for over a hundred years, it wouldn't be fair of me to ask him.

"I know," he replies, cupping my cheek as he sifts through my emotions down the bond. Taking a deep breath, he drops his hand and tangles it with mine, squeezing it tightly. "When do we leave?"