Chapter 18

T he forest is not happy. Even without spreading my awareness, I can feel its displeasure at having so many denizens traipsing through it, but unfortunately, it's the only way the army can get to Galandell.

The elves are light on their feet, and even the sea and high elves seem to have a deep respect for nature. That respect, it seems, is not shared by the humans or tribesmen. I don't believe they mean to be disrespectful as they tramp loudly through the undergrowth and crush the delicate wildflowers under their boots, they just seem to be oblivious, unaware of the beauty and life around them.

The other fae are travelling with us but at a distance, disturbed by the presence of the wagons and so many humans and tribespeople. Over the last several weeks, more people have joined us. Most were magicians sent by Pierre, but some were humans who had heard about my standoff with the king, guards who had worked in the castle. When I spoke with them, they said Wilson told them where they could find me. I don't know how they managed the long journey, and I worry for those who will arrive after we've already left, but I have to trust that Wilson won't send anyone who can't handle the travel.

So far, the humans who have joined us have been wary but tolerant of the elves. The two groups have mostly kept to themselves, but I haven't had to step in and break up any fights like I previously feared.

I've been spending more time with the sea elves. Their quiet and gentle nature appeals to me, however, I've watched them in training—they are lethal. The spears and fishhooks they use are wickedly sharp, and their aim is deadly. Combine that with being quick on their feet and having incredibly strong upper bodies, and they are not a foe to be trifled with. Eldrin learned this the hard way one morning in camp before we marched, thinking them an easy target. He earned himself a thwack on the head and a bruised ego. Since then, he's trained with them daily, enjoying the challenge, even learning to wield their fishhooks.

"Beloved." Blinking from my deep thoughts, I turn to the voice, finding one of the young mages leading his horse towards me, and I have to fight my groan.

"Five," Naril whispers conspiratorially, smiling smugly at me. Tor and Vaeril chuckle, Eldrin snorts, shaking his head, and even Grayson cracks a smile. Shooting the males a look, I turn back to the mage.

"Yes?" I try to sound polite, but it comes out more like a bark, stopping the mage in his tracks. A look of uncertainty crosses his face. Wincing and feeling like an awful person, I take a step forward, making an effort to soften my expression. "Sorry, how can I help?"

Glancing at my mates behind me, he seems to take reassurance from Grayson's presence, so the high mage steps up to my side, nodding in encouragement. Taking a deep breath, he smiles slightly and gestures to his horse. "Please, beloved, it would honour me if you would use my horse for the journey."

Hearing a snigger behind me, I have to fight the urge to glare at the elf who made the noise. Ever since we left camp this morning, I've had people see me walking and try to get me to ride their horse. I have my own horse, but I donated it to someone who needed it more than I did, yet as soon as anyone notices me walking, they feel the need to offer me their steed. Naril has turned it into a game, guessing how many propositions I will get before the end of the day. At first, I was humbled, but constantly explaining myself is beginning to become tiring.

"That is most kind of you, Mage…" Trailing off, I search for his name in my memories.

"Becket," Grayson helpfully supplies, and I realise guiltily he was one of the mages who accompanied me to Arhaven. I should have recognised him before now. He risked his life for me, and I let my frustration get in the way.

"Mage Becket, you were in Arhaven with me, weren't you?" He nods, his face flushing with pride, which only makes me feel more guilty. They deserve better from me. Closing the distance between us, I stop just before him and bow my head in a gesture of respect. "I want to thank you personally for protecting me then, and in advance for protecting me when we arrive in Galandell." Staring at me in surprise, he looks at Grayson and then back to me, as if he doesn't quite believe what's happening.

"I'm not going to accept your horse." Frowning at my words, he goes to argue, but I hold up my hand and continue. "And that is because there are others who need it more than I do. There are not enough horses to go around, and I am perfectly capable of walking," I explain softly, gesturing to the others around us. The tribesmen are used to travelling long distances over harsh mountain terrain, and they would never admit it, but eventually they would tire. However, it's the mages and human guards I'm worried about. They are used to fighting, but not travelling long distances, especially having only recently arrived at camp.

He follows my gaze, his eyes landing on the group of human guards who are walking behind Jacob's horse. They appear exhausted, but none of them grumble. In fact, they are talking to the prince, all of them in high spirits. Returning his gaze to me, he smiles slightly and bows at the waist. "I understand, beloved."

Smiling, I watch as he walks over to the group of guards and starts up a conversation. I begin to walk again, falling into step amongst my mates, with Naril a few steps ahead of us.

"How very noble," Naril calls back in a singsong voice.

Rolling my eyes at his comment, I glance at the front of the procession where Revna leads, the other chiefs following on horseback. My stomach feels like it's filled with lead and nerves, and the overwhelming pressure makes me nauseous. A hand on my shoulder brings my attention back, and as I glance around, I see the hand belongs to Tor. His expression is stoic, but the assurance he sends me through our bond tells me he thinks I've done the right thing. Reassured, I smile slightly up at my tribesman and roll back my shoulders.

"What kind of leader would I be if I sat on horseback while I knew others could benefit from it?" My voice is firm, contradicting the casual shrug of my shoulders. "I can walk farther than most of the humans can, they should use the horses. It's only fair."

Vaeril appears at my other side, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my shoulder. His expression is neutral, but his eyes are soft. "Most people don't think that way."

There had been a big argument about the best way for us to arrive at Galandell. It was agreed that we would march this morning as per the Mother's instructions, however, the chiefs wanted to dress me up and have me ride at the front. I objected. I am not a figurehead, I am a warrior the same as everyone else. When there are limited resources, they should go to those who need them most. As part-elf, I am stronger and more resilient. Besides, I want to be among everyone. If I am forced to accept I'm seen as the ‘beloved,' the goddess' chosen, and not as Clarissa, then isn't it better that they can actually see me mingling amongst them?

A flash of regret fills me at the slight rift between my aunt and me, but I'm not going to back away from my morals for the sake of appearances.

Sighing, I finally acknowledge something I've come to realise. "I am not most people." There is something freeing in the admission. All I've ever wanted was to blend in, to have a normal life, and my existence has been anything but. Even once I was freed, my mind seemed to work differently. I don't know if that's due to my past experiences or if I was born this way, but I can't deny it any longer.

Feeling someone's gaze on me, I look around and notice Grayson is watching me, his eyes soft. "You really aren't." His words could sound insulting, but I feel his love and admiration, knowing he wouldn't want me any other way.

"Hmm," Naril hums, breaking my moment with Grayson as he steps into my field of vision with a grin on his face. "I still think you'll get at least two more propositions before we stop for lunch."

Naril was right. I was approached by another mage and a well-meaning tribesman, both offering their mounts, all of which I kindly declined.

Now seated around a hastily made campfire, I sip my broth as I listen to the argument going on around me. Grayson sits on my right, Vaeril is on my left, and Eldrin and Tor stand behind us with their arms crossed. Jacob sits opposite, and when his eyes meet mine, he shakes his head in exasperation. I agree with his frustration.

"With all of us together, we have greater numbers than them." Chief Arne jabs his finger down onto the map that they're all gathered around. "We should simply storm the city, overwhelm them." A chorus of groans meets his words as people talk over each other.

Ragnar clears his throat, his arms crossed. "I agree. Now that we have the magicians, we will have the strength."

I hadn't approved of this plan to start with, and now that I know he's behind it, I agree even less. Burying my sigh, I try to push my pettiness aside. I've looked at that map and memorised the shapes for what feels like a hundred times, getting Tor to read it to me, explaining what the writing says so I'm able to take part in the discussions. However, at the end of the day, in a face-to-face battle with the forsaken, we will lose. There has to be another way, I've just not found it yet.

"The forsaken are too strong," Speaker Beck, the representative from the sea elves, interjects, and Speaker Hawthorn hums in agreement at his side.

High Mage Merrin sighs and stands, brushing down his robes. "Our magic is untested on these forsaken. We don't know how they'll react to it." I know how much it must hurt him to admit this, but with truth as his gift, we would be wise to listen to him. "Rushing in is a poor idea."

Grayson is nodding at my side. I know he's worried about his mages. Fighting elves on a battlefield is one thing, but fighting an enemy you don't know on an unknown battleground is something different entirely. Not to mention the forsaken have the advantage of being in a place they know well, and they know we're coming. There is no way to hide our approach.

"We have the goddess on our side," one of the large chiefs rumbles, his belly as big as his voice. "We defeated them before, we can do it again!"

"You are all fools," Eldrin growls from behind me. Everyone stills before turning their attention to us. Their expressions range from chagrined to outraged, but no one challenges my warrior elf as he steps forward. "Do you not remember the battle before? They do not feel pain. You can bet that the queen will have more up her sleeve than a dozen forsaken."

Ragnar gets over his shock and steps around the table, his eyes flashing with indignation. "How dare—"

Something pushes at my awareness, making me tune the rest of the conversation out. I've heard it all before anyway, but whatever is trying to get my attention is old . Extending my consciousness, I look up and into the distance where I feel the pull. Whoever this is, they want to speak to me.

Without fully realising what I'm doing, I stand, my cup falling to the ground as I follow the pull. Some part of my mind is aware of my mates calling my name and their bonds aching in my chest, but I don't feel any danger or like I'm under any spell like I was with the forest witch last time I was in these woods.

"I'm okay, I'm just concentrating," I assure them, my voice a whisper. I pause as I lose the connection with the being. Reassured, they fall silent and simply follow behind me as I stretch my awareness once more and try to find the creature. It's something of the forest, some sort of fae but more elemental, which is why I can sense it. Like the imps and pixies, it has a mind of its own, so it's harder to read than the forest.

I've ventured far away from everyone now and can hear the sound of a river. As I round a large tree trunk, it comes into view. So does the creature.

She's the most beautiful being I've ever seen, and at first, I think she's an elf, her pointed ears poking through her silky hair. She sits on the bank of the river. Her upper body is completely naked, and her lower body is hidden by the water. Raising her head, she looks my way, locking her startling green eyes with mine. Her pixie-like features and rosy red lips are inviting. Everything about her screams innocence, but my instincts tell me she's dangerous.

Eldrin and Vaeril spot her at the same time, hissing as they jump in front of me, blocking my route to the fae, their eyes wide with alarm as they watch my face for…something. Frowning, I try to push past them, not understanding their reaction. If they feared an attack from her, then they would be in a defensive position, instead, they are blocking my path. Pausing, I cross my arms over my chest and arch an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

"That's a nixie, Clarissa." Vaeril's brow furrows as if he's confused by the way I'm reacting, but he doesn't step aside. Reaching out, he cups my face, drawing my chin up and staring into my eyes as if checking for something. "A type of river mermaid, she will charm you and pull you to your death."

Eldrin bristles, snarling over his shoulder at the nixie as he steps closer to me. "They are dangerous, you must stay away."

Now I understand their behaviour. Jumping in front of me, blocking my path, checking my eyes—they believed I was bewitched when I was following her pull. They were trying to protect me. My love for them grows a little more, and from the gleam in their eyes, they can sense that through our connection. All of this tells me something else though.

Leaning around Vaeril, I address the nixie. "You could have bewitched me, but you didn't." She looks up from where she was examining her nails, her striking green eyes locking with mine again, and I'm momentarily stunned. She tilts her head to one side before dipping it in agreement. Yes, she could have spelled me and pulled me to a watery death, but she chose not to. So I ask her the most important question. "Why?"

She glances at the backs of the two elves separating us before returning her gaze to me. "I wished to talk with you, beloved." Her voice is unlike anything I've ever heard before, lilting and lyrical. I've heard stories of sirens luring people to their death, and I wonder if the nixies are a relation, because I can imagine that voice inspiring people to do things they usually wouldn't.

Her meaning is clear though. Looking at my two elves, I raise my eyebrow, waiting for them to let me pass. She's called me here, so it must be important, and whatever she needs to tell me, she doesn't want to say between a wall of elves. Vaeril and Eldrin share a look, but they know they can't stop me. I'd get past them one way or another, so eventually, they sigh and step aside, letting me pass. All four of my mates spread out, leaving the nixie and I space to chat, but we both know our discussion is not private. I also know they could get to me in a second if I needed them, this is just an illusion of privacy, but it's enough for the nixie.

Approaching slowly, I perch on a large rock near the riverbank, not wanting to get any closer. From here, I can view glimpses of her golden tail flashing below the water, and up close, I see what I thought were elvish ears are actually longer and have two pointed tips, looking more like fins.

"You're searching for a way into the elf city, but it is patrolled with their forsaken." When she says the word ‘forsaken,' she hisses, her face transforming and shattering the innocent illusion as rows of sharp, needle-like teeth glimmer in the sunlight.

Instantly on alert, I lean forward. This suddenly feels much more urgent and important than I anticipated. I can feel the sharp attention of the others on us too. "You know a way in?" Trying to keep my voice even, I wait anxiously for her response.

She shrugs her delicate shoulders, brushing her hair with her fingers. "By fulfilling a bargain, you will have a way to even the odds." Her cryptic words make me freeze, and realisation of what I need to do floods my body with cold dread.

"She wastes our time and speaks in riddles," Eldrin growls from somewhere behind me, misinterpreting my distress for not understanding her words, when it's really the opposite.

Offended by Eldrin's insult, the nixie twists her body around and uses her arms to raise herself up the bank to hiss at the elf. She's terrifying, but thankfully, she drops back into the water, disappearing completely for a moment until only her head resurfaces, glaring at Eldrin.

Turning to my mates, I hold up my hand to stop any more comments. "No, I know what we need to do." My voice is steady, despite the fact I feel like I'm being crushed by the weight of responsibility that's suddenly been placed on me. "The others aren't going to like it." The guys frown, sensing my mixed emotions, but I don't give them a chance to say anything, simply looking back at the nixie.

She's watching me with only her eyes peeping from the water. "Thank you." I bow my head in respect, taking her slight nod as acceptance before she sinks into the river, disappearing from sight.

I return to my mates, and we walk back to where the others are resting. I explain what I've learned and what I must do. Shock, anger, and fear run rampant, fuelling yet more arguments.

"You're leaving us?" Revna says. It's phrased like a question, but I can hear the finality and accusation in her tone. Internally, I wince, but I can't let any of them see that here. They will take it as a sign of weakness, an indication I'm not sure of this plan, and try to talk me out of it. If this was just my aunt and me, this conversation would go very differently. However, in this case, my mates send me their strength, and I use it like armour to ground myself.

"I will join you again before the final battle." I keep my voice steady before meeting the gaze of the other chiefs and leaders. "If this works, we will have the upper hand. It gives us the ground we will need." I've explained all of this several times, going over the same points over and over.

"She's right, it would greatly help us," Merrin chimes in, talking for the first time and making me breathe a sigh of relief. When the high mage speaks, people tend to listen, his words swaying them.

"If," Ragnar growls, emphasising the word with a snarl. " If it works." Stalking towards me, he jabs his finger at my chest, eliciting snarls from my mates, but I don't move, I simply stare him down. He's just a bully. I've met plenty like him before, and I won't rise to it. "You have no idea! How do we know you and your mates are not just abandoning us the eve before the battle?" Stepping right up into my face, he raises his lip, snarling the words as he speaks. "Do you know something we don't and are jumping ship?"

"How dare you?" Jacob leaps up from the log on my right, jumping to my defence. Stepping right up to the painted chief, he draws him away, giving me some space to breathe. "She's willing to risk her life to give you an advantage on the battlefield that might be the difference between winning and losing, and you accuse her of this?"

Now that I don't have the chief in my face, I process what Jacob's just done. He stood up for me. We've not really had much time to discuss that we're half siblings, and to be honest, other than one tearful conversation about our mother, we've avoided it. He's resentful of the years I had with Mother before the king found us. Yet those memories were stolen from me, and truthfully, I'm jealous of the years he had with Mother, even if he didn't know she was his biological mom. He admitted to me that night that he always felt closer to our mother than the old queen, and he viewed her as more of a mother figure. Her death devastated him, even more so once he learned she had been his true mother all along. Things are still awkward between us, but the fact he's standing up for me now gives me hope that we can work things out between us.

"How do we know?" Ragnar shouts at the prince. "We have no assurances!"

"Yes, you do!" Everyone turns to look at me. Taking a deep breath, I pray my voice stays steady as I address the group. I know this part of the plan won't go down well, which is why I haven't said anything about it until now, so I brace myself for the backlash. "I will be going alone. My mates will travel with you." Raised eyebrows and shared looks from the chiefs and speakers meet my declaration, but I can feel the volatile reactions from my mates, so I quickly continue, "There is no way I would leave my mates to fight my battles without me."

"What?"

"No way."

"Clarissa—"

Voices mix as my mates object, but I turn to them with pleading eyes. I need them to support me in this. I know what I'm asking of them and how hard this will be—the idea of them marching into battle without me tears at my heart—but if I can do this, I know this will help us. Meeting their eyes, I can tell they're torn. Grayson seems to be struggling the most, and I know that's because he's needed to lead one of the groups of mages. Eldrin and Tor also have their own groups to lead, but the former doesn't seem to care. I know Eldrin would find a replacement and come with me in a heartbeat, his protective fae instincts not allowing him to let me go alone. Vaeril seems to sense this, his own instincts screaming the same.

"At least take one of us," Vaeril suggests. "I'm not leading a group. Someone needs to protect you in case anything happens. I can also run you back if it doesn't work so we get there in time."

Could that work? Can I deprive the army of a capable fighter to help me in my task? If all goes to plan, you will meet back with the army outside of Galandell before the fighting begins , I remind myself, going over the plan in my mind. His comment does make sense, and I won't deny that knowing he will be there in case anything goes wrong does help ease some of the panic that is wrapped around my chest. Biting my lip with indecision, I glance at the others, sensing their discomfort over the situation. Vaeril coming with me will help soothe all of us. Finally, I nod in agreement, seeing the relief in their expressions before turning to face the chiefs once more.

"You mark my words, she's abandoning us to die," Ragnar snarls before storming off towards his tribe, which is waiting in a huddled group.

Silence follows his prediction, and I sigh in frustration, rubbing a hand over my face, trying to ease some of the tension that's built up there. Hearing footsteps approaching me, I open my eyes and lower my hand to see my aunt wearing a concerned expression.

"I ask this as your relative, not your chief—do you have to do this?" Revna asks, her voice low, keeping the conversation between us. Despite our disagreement and the slight rift between us, she still cares for me. She's already done her job as high chief, but now she's asking out of concern for me as her niece. It means a lot, and I wish I knew how to express that to her.

Instead, I give her a tiny smile and nod my head firmly. Now is not the time for hugs and declarations of love. Sighing as if hoping I might change my mind, she nods sadly and turns back to address the others.

"Are we in agreement?" Reluctantly, the chiefs, high mages, and speakers agree. "Then we continue to Galandell. Clarissa and Vaeril will do what they need to and meet us there."

She immediately walks away, not meeting my gaze as everyone else breaks away into their groups and prepares to move on. Wincing, I rub my chest to rid myself of the sting at her blatant attempt to evade my attention. I know she's disappointed that I'm leaving, but surely she doesn't think I'm abandoning them? Why would she let me do it if she doesn't think I'd come back? Doubt plagues me.

Turning to my mates, I automatically touch my left wrist as I trace my goddess mark, my nervous habit. "Am I doing the right thing?" Vaeril reaches out and pulls me into his chest as the others place their hands on me, grounding me.

"Excuse me, beloved?"

Pulling from Vaeril's arms, I turn to face the voice and find Speaker Beck, the sea elf representative, standing nearby. "Sorry to intrude, but is it true you have a wayfinder?" At my surprised look, he chuckles and takes a step closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "We don't give them to many, so the news travelled quickly within the sea elves. May I see it?"

Smiling at his tone, I dip my head in acknowledgment. "Of course." Honestly, I hadn't thought much about the gift since I got it, and I had only used it once when I was lost in this forest. I hadn't understood it then and had packed it away for safe keeping.

Walking over to one of the wagons where I stored my pack, I fish out the wayfinder and gently unwrap it. As soon as the smooth wood touches my hands, the dials and arrows start to move. Cradling it, I carefully make my way over to the speaker and hold it out for him, but he smiles and shakes his head.

"It's spelled. It will only work when you're holding it, beloved." His explanation makes sense, but that doesn't help if I can't use it.

Looking up from the dials, I raise my eyebrows. "But I don't know how to use it."

Chuckling again, he points at the symbols on the edge of the wayfinder. "We use them to navigate. The symbols all have meanings, but the true magic is behind the intention of the user." He moves to stand just behind me, placing his hands on my arms as he directs me, lifting them up. "You want to know if you're making the right decision. If you should go with the army to Galandell." He gestures to the left, and I notice one of the arrows circles, reaches that point, pauses, and then does another circle of the device. "Or if you should leave to fulfil your bargain." He gestures to the right, the second arrow doing the same. "Ask the wayfinder, and it will show you the way."

He releases my arms and comes to stand in front of me, smiling softly. Awed, I meet his gaze as I realise the value of the gift they've given me. If this can truly do what he says…

With butterflies in my chest, I raise the wayfinder to my lips. "Please, show me what's the right thing to do," I plead in a whisper, and watch as the arrows both do two full circles of the dial. They slow, and both arrows hover over the symbol pointing to the right. For a second, I think they're going to move on, but they merely pulse, then freeze.

I was right.

Hope blooms in my chest now that I know we're doing the right thing, and as I turn to Vaeril, he must see something on my face, because his eyes soften.

He cups my cheek. "When do we leave?"