Chapter 16

P ain wakes me. Sharp, piercing pain that feels like my back is being shredded. My muscles spasm as I arch, anything to try and ease the agony. I gasp, that's all I can do, my breath stolen from me with the strength of the convulsion.

"Shh, try to relax your muscles, it will pass," a familiar voice instructs as something warm is pressed against my spine. The relief is instant, and I feel like I can breathe again, my memories returning.

Slowly, I try to do as I was told and work on relaxing my muscles one by one, sinking into the warmth of the pad behind me. Once more in control of my body, I open my eyes to find I'm lying on some soft matting, facing a plain wall. The gentle sounds of people moving around behind me indicate we're not alone.

"Wilson," I whisper, and the person closest to me freezes. Gingerly, for fear of triggering another spasm, I turn on the mat and see my friend kneeling by my side. My eyes instantly fill with tears, but I refuse to let them fall, instead, I smile tentatively up at him. "Hi."

He seems different. Still Wilson, my friend, but the weathered, harrowed look in his eyes is new. I've seen that look before. I still see it sometimes when I gaze in the mirror before I remind myself that I got away, that my life is different now. He appears older too, but I suppose living rough without the comforts of the castle will force you to grow up pretty quickly.

He lets out a large sigh but leans forward and cups my cheek with his hand. "Hey, Clarissa." His smile is all Wilson, his dimples making me beam all the more. When he pulls his hand away, I scan the modest room we're currently in. About the size of a simple pantry, it has basic white walls and no windows. The only entrance is the door directly opposite of where I'm currently lying, a hanging cloth the only barrier to separate the room from the rest of the city. There's a pile of padded mats around the space, suggesting that several people sleep here at night, but it's quiet and tidy now. Other than Wilson and me, there are two other people in the room, both women who are trying to keep busy, but I notice a few scared looks thrown over at me by the younger of the two. Then I spot the baby at her breast. Blowing out a troubled breath, I look away, realising she's probably terrified.

I use my arms to push myself up into a sitting position, hating how much effort the simple movement took. I brush my hand over my face, pushing my hair back, and I realise the crown my aunt gave me is missing. My eyes widen for a second. I'm distressed I've lost it, not because of what it was, but because of who it was from. Taking a deep breath, I lower my hand, balling it into a fist and resting it in my lap. In the grand scheme of things, a lost crown isn't something to be upset over. I'm still alive, and from the frantic pulling in my chest, so are my mates, and they're trying to find me.

"Where are we?" I keep my voice low so as not to startle the two ladies. I shift uncomfortably on the mat, my muscles aching and protesting. "How long have I been out? And how did you get me away from Rhydian?"

"As soon as your hand left the barrier, it reformed, trapping Rhydian behind it," he replies with a shrug, but his eyes sparkle, and I know he finds it satisfying that the prince was stuck behind his own barrier. "Somewhere safe in the city," Wilson tells me, watching me with careful eyes as he passes me a chipped cup of water. I accept gratefully, sucking down the cool liquid.

"It's better you don't know just in case." His somber words make me pause, and I meet his eyes over the top of the mug. He means just in case things go wrong and I get caught. Just what has my friend been through while I've been gone? As if knowing what I'm thinking, he smiles sadly at me. "You've only been out for about an hour, so we can catch up with your friends. One of your elves is wreaking havoc in the slums."

His reassurance helps me breathe easier. While I can see that it's still dark outside, I have no way of knowing what time it is or if it's even the same day. I do wince slightly at the mention of an elf causing chaos in the slums, knowing exactly who that would be—Eldrin. Without a goddess bond, he will be using his own method of trying to find me, and he's not exactly patient. This has to be killing him. At least my mates with a connection can feel I'm alive and will have a general idea of where I am. I need to get back to them.

Sighing, I nod in agreement and hand the now empty cup back to him. With a groan, I force my body to stand, gritting my teeth against the pain in my back and side, having to pant through the spasm that threatens to cripple me. The older woman glances over in concern at my pained noises and seems to be contemplating something. Determination crosses her features as she nods to herself and reaches up for a small pot on one of her shelves above her stove. Turning, she blanches when she sees me watching her, but at Wilson's gentle smile, she hurries over and pushes the pot into my hand before spinning around and hurrying back to her corner of the room.

Curious, I lift the lid and see what looks like brown dried leaves as a strong herbal smell reaches my nose. Wilson hums when he sees the contents, and I meet his eyes with a questioning look.

"It's cloverleaf," Wilson informs me, lifting one of the leaves and examining it under the dim light in the room. "It doesn't taste great, but it's a natural pain reliever. It might help with your back. Place a couple of leaves under your tongue."

Surprised, I look over at the stranger. Why would she help me? She doesn't know me or owe me anything. In fact, having me here probably puts her in danger. I obviously scare her, yet she's helping me anyway. "Thank you." My voice is soft, but I know she hears me when she looks over in shock, not expecting my gratitude. Meeting my eyes, she pauses, then nods her head in acknowledgment.

Following Wilson's instructions, I place two of the leaves under my tongue, grimacing at the taste, but I do feel some relief almost immediately, so I happily ignore the flavour. I turn back to my friend and gesture towards the two women. "Who are these people?"

Wilson sighs, running his hand over his face and chin, scratching at the stubble. "Good people who have had a difficult life." His eyes run over me, and his expression hardens. "I've been helping them. The atrocities the king has committed… It took me becoming friends with a slave to see it."

For a second, I think the change in his expression is due to me, but his words make me realise he was frowning at himself. Guilt lines his eyes. Wilson has been a castle magician since he graduated from the guild, so there would have been much that has happened in the city while he's been here, but he can't blame himself for every bad deed that's happened in the king's name. However, I suspect he is anyway.

Shaking his head, Wilson looks away, unable to meet my eyes. "I can't believe I was so blind."

I reach out and take his hand in mine. I desperately want to comfort him and tell him not to blame himself, but I don't have time. I have to warn him about what's coming. "Wilson, everyone here is in danger, and from more than the king and Rhydian's dark magic."

As he turns to me with a frown, I explain about the elf queen and the forsaken. That I'm sure it's only a matter of time before she attacks here, or now that I've rejected the king's ‘offer,' they might band together against us.

At some point during my explanation, Wilson sank down onto the padded bedding, horror clear on his face. "I'd heard the rumours." His voice is a hollow whisper as he looks over at the women on the other side of the room. "They don't stand a chance." I know he doesn't mean these two specifically, but all of the poor in the city, and I agree. The slaves, impoverished, and downtrodden will be affected the worst.

I perk up as an idea comes to me. "Send them to the guild." I can see I've caught his attention. "Send anyone who can make the journey and needs shelter." He stands as I speak, opening his mouth to protest, so I hold up my hand, rushing to finish. "The battle will be in the opposite direction, and Pierre will take care of them."

He falls silent, studying me with an intense expression. Nerves twist in my stomach like butterflies as I wait for his response, and slowly, he starts to smile. "It could work."

We talk for a little longer, going over logistics. Unfortunately, I just don't see a way of getting those who are frail and sick out of the city, even though they are the most in need of refuge.

It's getting late, and I can feel one of my mates—Tor, I believe—getting closer, so I know I need to leave soon. I'm just reluctant to end my time with Wilson. I have the feeling I won't see him again for a long time. Having stood in one position for too long, I try to gently stretch, but pain immediately racks my body. It's not as severe as before, but I would have fallen if Wilson hadn't caught me. Leaning against him, I wait for it to pass, my breathing returning to normal as the waves of pain start to ease.

Feeling stronger, I pull away from my friend and gently twist. The dress the king insisted I wear has a low back, so as I crane my neck, I can just see the black tendrils crawling up my side before disappearing under the fabric.

Wilson watches my horrified self-examination with a frown, shaking his head in confusion. "I've never seen magic do anything like that before."

"That's because he's not using normal magic." I stop looking, knowing there's nothing I can do about it now. My mind is trying to put something I just said together with a memory—flashes of dying roses—but I'm too exhausted, so I push the images aside. I have bigger things to worry about right now.

"The elves have healers, I'm sure they can help." My voice is more optimistic than I feel. My bonds tug in my chest, my mates desperately searching for me, and I know I can't make them wait any longer. Without realising it, I've drifted towards the door, their need making me move unconsciously. "I have to go." My tone is apologetic, but he waves me off, reaches behind him, and then passes me a bundle of cloth I thought was a blanket. Shaking it out, I see it's actually a dark cloak. Nodding my thanks, I gingerly drape it over my shoulders, trying not to set off another spasm. Mercifully, I manage it, quickly fastening the clasp and pulling up the hood before glancing down to check all of my dress is covered.

Swiftly and quietly, he takes my hand, and we step out onto the street and leave the ladies' home, and as I turn back to thank them, I see them making the sign of the Mother, the older woman smiling faintly. Gesturing for us to leave, she drops the piece of fabric they use as a door and retreats back inside. Wilson passes me a blindfold, and I quickly tie it around my eyes.

I stick to Wilson's side as he leads me through the lower part of the city, eventually pulling off the blindfold after about ten minutes. We avoid the main road and the patrolling priests and guards, staying on the back roads and passages. I had been shocked at the state of the small, tightly packed housing as we travelled through the city on our arrival, but the conditions are so much worse away from the main road. It feels dangerous out here. I know I'm safe with Wilson, his syrupy magic coating my skin tells me he's using it every second we are together, but for anyone who's not a magician…

Wilson stops me with a hand on my shoulder as we reach a corner. Instantly coming to a halt, I peer up at him through the gloom of our hoods.

"Your tribesman is just around that corner." He gestures with a smile. My heart soars, needing to feel my mate's arms around me, but there's a sadness in Wilson's eyes that stops me.

"Come with us." Gripping his arm, I plead with my eyes. I would beg if he made me, I'm not too proud to do it. I just got him back, and I don't want to lose him again.

Again, he gives me that same sad smile, shaking his head slowly. "I wish I could. There is too much to do here, they need me."

That's where he has me. How can I ask him to leave these people when he's making a difference? When he's helping people survive? I've seen the conditions they're living in, I've even lived in some of the conditions they're living in and worse. He feels this is where he needs to be. Can I really be so selfish as to ask him to leave everyone just to make myself feel better so I know where he is?

Feeling like a part of me is shattering, I stare deeply into his eyes, needing to know he understands the risks he's taking. "Are you sure?" When he nods, my shoulders droop, but I hum my agreement. I won't disagree with him or take away from the good he's doing, but I fear for his safety. With protection on my mind, a thought pops into my head, something I must tell him before I leave. "Aileen and her father are coming with us. She's safe." His whole body seems to sag with relief as I speak, and he unexpectedly pulls me against his chest in a tight hug.

Once he's composed himself, he steps away, but I can see his eyes are gleaming in the dim light of the houses. "Thank you." His voice is rough with emotion, but I don't mention it, knowing how tough it must have been to leave Aileen in the castle. I always suspected that with time, something romantic would happen between the two of them, but now, that might never happen.

Changing the subject, I ask about someone who's been on my mind. "What about Jayne?" Grayson's maid was the closest thing I ever had to a mother. I need to know what happened to her.

A genuine, wide smile fills his face, making a huge weight leave my chest. "She's safe," is all he tells me, and while I want to ask more and have him take me to her, I know it's safer for her that I don't know. Hopefully, she's with her nephews far from here.

Biting back my disappointment at not getting to see her, I settle for running my eyes over my friend one last time. I take his hand in mine and squeeze it tightly. "I miss you."

"I miss you too. I'm so glad you're okay." Wilson pauses, his thumb rubbing over the back of my hand as he frowns and drops his gaze. Whatever he wants to say is causing him some distress. Finally, he sighs, and when he raises his eyes once more, his gaze is timid. "Can you tell Grayson I'm okay and that I'm sorry?"

My heart constricts tightly. Grayson was Wilson's mentor, but also one of his closest friends. I know Grayson has been really worried about his friend since he failed to return to the guild, so he's going to be disappointed when he learns that the young mage chose not to come with us. However, he will understand the reasons behind it, and I'm sure he will be proud of his friend.

Taking a deep breath to push back the tears that threaten to fall, I nod my head, agreeing to pass on his message. I turn to leave but pause with one last request on my lips. "Will you do me one last favour?" He arches an eyebrow as if to say ‘of course,' but I hesitate, almost not wanting to ask. This could put him at risk, yet I can't seem to stop myself from asking anyway. "Help the slaves?"

Concern and frustration cross his features. "Most of the slaves have gone."

What? His statement takes me aback, but now that I think over it, I don't remember seeing any slaves lining the corridors in the castle or walking the courtyards like they did before.

"After the culling, many risked death rather than give up their children," he explains, reminding me of the rule the king put in place after he ordered the deaths of all the previous slaves. Everyone who had a child under the age of twenty had to give that child up into slavery.

"Those they did take went to the castle and haven't been seen since. You didn't see them while you were there?" Wilson inquires, his concern turning into sharp interest. I shake my head, and he hums in consideration. "Hmm, I'll look into it," he promises.

We hug tightly, and following the pull in my chest, I round the corner and hunt down my mates. It doesn't take me long to find Tor—Wilson had practically led me to him—but I am aware of a watchful pair of eyes following me until I'm wrapped in Tor's strong arms.