“Fine. I was walking back and two priests asked me what I was doing. I told them I was returning to my rooms and they decided I wasn’t paying them enough respect, so one of them punched me in the stomach. I fell to the ground, shocked, and that’s when Wilson found me.” I keep my explanation simple and as brief as possible, wanting to get this over with. Glancing around the room, I see the other magicians are just as furious as Grayson appears to be, and I take a small step back. None of them seem to notice, too caught up in their rage.
“You should’ve seen the looks on their faces, they were getting off on her pain. It was disgusting,” Wilson spits, and I re-evaluate my friend. I thought he was softer than the ‘regular’ magician, but I’m starting to realise he’s powerful in a different way that has nothing to do with the strength of his magic. He is fiercely protective of his friends. “They’re lucky I just knocked them off their feet and didn’t put any more power behind my attack.”
“Wilson,” Merrin interjects, placing his hand on my friend’s shoulder. “We need to speak with Clarissa. Thank you for escorting her back, would you mind leaving us?” he asks politely. His signature, soft smile is in place, but I get the impression Wilson doesn’t have a choice in this.
Wilson looks quickly at me, his expression uncharacteristically serious, but when I give him a small smile and he sees I’m okay, he bows his head to the higher magician. “Of course, High Mage.” As he leaves, I swear I hear Merrin whisper, “Good job,” to the younger magician, but when I glance over in surprise, his face gives nothing away.
Once he’s left, the room is silent. Grayson is by the windows, leaning against the little alcove with a sullen look on his face. The older magician, and leader of the group, apparently, takes a step towards me, smiling kindly.
“Clarissa, how are you feeling after this morning?”
“I’m fine,” I answer instinctively, but at a look from Merrin, I realise that’s not going to cut it. He wants a more detailed answer than that, and I see the other two are listening closely as well. “It was a bit of a shock. All those poor children…” I trail off and look away. I’m about to tell them about Tor and the plan we came up with, but I realise I don’t know these two that well and I don’t want to risk Tor.
I’ll tell Grayson later, I tell myself, feeling a bit better about holding onto the secret. It had been eating at me. I want, need, Grayson to know, otherwise it feels like going behind his back.
“It’s unforgivable,” Ellis snaps, and for a moment I think he’s reading my thoughts. “We’ve always discouraged the use of slaves, but the numbers had grown five times the size since the last time I visited the castle,” he remarks, and I take a deep, relieved breath. There’s a pause and they seem to be waiting for me to say or do something, but I simply wait, not sure what the point of this line of questioning is.
“We’ve all spoken and decided this has to be stopped. Would you agree?” Merrin asks me, his expression making me think that my answer is really important to him.
“Of course!” Frowning, I look around the room. Why would he be asking me this? Surely he doesn’t believe I agree with the slavery of innocent children? He nods as if expecting my reaction and takes another step towards me.
“We need to speak with the other high mages, but we will have to travel there and Grayson needs to come with us.” His voice lowers as he speaks, and I feel like he’s waiting for my response.
Why would my answer, agreement or otherwise, be so important?
I remember what they’d been saying earlier and nod my agreement. I don’t want him to go, but this is so much bigger than me. Grayson is watching me, his expression intense, so much so I have to look away.
“He’s refusing to go,” Ellis tells me, and I snap my head around to my friend.
“What? Why?” I demand, but when I see his eyes roaming over me, I suddenly realise why. The conversation I overheard when Wilson and I first got back to the room plays out in my head. Grayson is refusing to go.