as I go. As I sink into the armchair, fatigue settles over me and drags me down, and I struggle into an upright position.
Too much. It’s too much. My body seems to be screaming, and I know if I have any more interaction with magic, I will pass out. I don’t know where that knowledge comes from, but I take it as truth.
“Just think, if we had her on the battlefield, we would have the advantage over the elves. They wouldn’t stand a chance with her amplifying our magic.” Pierre sounds gleeful, something dark sparkling in his eyes.
“She would also make a good spy. She’s used to blending in and being unseen from her life as a slave, and with her ability to sense magic…she’s invaluable,” Ellis agrees, his expression thoughtful.
“Yes, she is. But she is meant for something else, remember the vision,” Grayson barks, fury flashing through his eyes, and something that looks a little like fear. “She’s not going anywhere near a battlefield.”
“We still haven’t worked out her purpose yet. The Mother has yet to reveal it to us, we only know she is important,” Merrin chimes in, looking around the room as he speaks, meeting the eyes of each person. “It also doesn’t explain how she survived that much magic. That should have been a killing blow.” I shift uncomfortably as they all look at me thoughtfully once again. “Ellis is capable of pushing his will into his magic, if he shoots to kill, then it will. He can do the same with pain, pleasure... you get the idea.”
I must have unwritten the spell, like I did with the magic in Vaeril’s cuff, I realise with shock, my body going numb with the possibilities. I can’t tell them that I can break spells, they would never let me out of their sight. Although, when they cast magic over me earlier to cloak me from view, and when Grayson used his magic to turn my hair blonde, I didn’t break their magic, nor the light I just touched, so it must only be with certain magic then. Maybe it’s the intent behind the magic that I break? The veil and changing my hair were meant to help me, whereas the magic that was thrown was to kill. Vaeril’s cuffs are to contain and force him to work.
A cough in the room brings me back to the present and I realise they are still staring at me, as if waiting for something.
“I’m not sure.” It’s not a lie, not really, but my eyes flick to Merrin. His expression doesn’t change, his encouraging smile steady. “I guess it’s part of my gift from the Mother,” I reply, my hand raising to touch the mark on my wrist. As if in response, it starts to glow softly. Ellis watches me with a revered expression as he pushes up from his chair and takes the few steps towards me before kneeling. I watch him wearily, quickly looking up at Grayson for comfort, who is frowning but nods.
“Clarissa... When I saw you jump in front of the elf, I thought I’d killed you. I’ve never felt panic like it before, and I want to apologise to you.” Eyes wide at his confession, I watch as he bows his head. What do I say to that? In such a short span of time, I’ve had two of the high mages, one of the most powerful beings in our culture, kneeling before me, an ex-slave. I’m exhausted and overwhelmed, but I need some answers.
“I know you weren’t trying to hurt me, and truthfully, it didn’t really hurt.” He raises his head as I speak, surprise clear on his face as if he wasn’t expecting my forgiveness. If this was Grayson, I would reach out and place a hand on his shoulder, but I don’t really know this person. However, I think the two of us would have got on well in different circumstances. “But you can’t hurt Vae—the elf.” I catch myself before I say his name, knowing they wouldn’t understand. “He is instrumental in what is going to happen here. The Mother told me this.”
Truth.
Ellis stands and moves back to his seat, and they all seem to mull over what I’ve said, and just when they seem like they’re about to agree, Pierre leans forward. “You’re asking us not to kill our enemy.”
“Yes.” I don’t bother to explain any further, he doesn’t deserve it. He looks as if he’s going to protest, but Merrin