remind myself, thinking he’s probably just worried for his daughter when their every move is being scrutinised by the king.
Looking back at the young woman in my arms, I can’t stop myself from asking the question that’s been burning in the back of my mind. “Where’s Wilson? When Grayson told me he didn’t return to the guild after the mages split from the king…”
Aileen’s face twists, a shadow passing over her features as she looks around to make sure none of the king’s men are listening, and then she takes a step closer to me. She glances at the elves at my side and the towering tribesman, an unspoken question on her lips.
“You can trust them,” I promise.
Nodding, she blows out a pent-up breath. “Things have been bad, Clarissa.” Her voice is quiet and harrowed, and I wonder just what’s happened to have changed her from the carefree woman I knew. “The priests are totally out of control.” She glances up at her father, shuddering at some unspoken memory. “They patrol the hallways and the streets, doling out punishments for those they deem ‘unworthy’ of the Great Mother’s love, or for committing crimes against Her.”
Meeting Grayson’s gaze, I feel his anger and horror through our connection and something else…guilt. He feels guilty for pulling the magicians from the city, knowing they were the only ones holding the priests back, and by leaving, it only gave them free rein to terrorise the people.
Lord Bastian huffs at his daughter’s last statement, his voice low as he looks around the room to make sure no one is watching as he speaks. “Most of these crimes are either small infractions or made up. The punishments, however…” He trails off as his eyes land on someone over my shoulder. The sound of footsteps alerts me to someone close by, and my mates stiffen at my side. The steps don’t falter, and as I glance in their direction, I see a priest passing by, his eyes boring into mine with a glare of undisguised hatred. Considering they are supposed to worship the Mother and I am her beloved, you would think they would show at least some respect in public, otherwise, it just makes it look like they disagree with the goddess’ decision, which is a dangerous path to go down.
I impatiently count the seconds, waiting for the priest to leave, my mates close as they react to my anxiety. Finally, once he’s out of earshot, I reach out again and take Aileen’s hand. “Wilson?” I question, unable to keep the worry from my voice any longer. Her eyes fill with tears, and my knees suddenly feel weak as dread fills me. “No…” Worst case scenarios fill my mind, and a part of my heart feels like it’s trying to fracture. Surely I would know if Wilson had died? I would have felt his death, right? The thoughts spin through my mind, one after the other, guilt plaguing me that he could have died alone while I was living in luxury in Galandell. No, he’s not dead. Someone like Wilson couldn’t leave the world without leaving a mark.
A sharp throb in my chest makes me groan and release Aileen, and I grip onto Eldrin. With Vaeril on my other side, my elves hold me up as I take a deep breath. Grayson’s concern and pain are like knives in my chest, even though he’s trying to appear calm on the outside.
“Control yourself, mage,” Vaeril growls, drawing Grayson’s attention. As soon as he realises he was projecting his pain towards me, I feel him pulling away from our bond. The pain subsides, and I can breathe again, so I send a wave of love towards my mage before turning my attention back to Aileen, needing to know for sure what happened to Wilson. “Tell me everything.”
Aileen seems uncertain as she glances between Grayson and me, aware something just occurred, but she’s not sure what. She shakes it off though and takes a deep breath. “Wilson…” Even saying his name seems to cause her pain, but she pushes through. “After everything that transpired with the queen and the slaves…he had been helping people escape from the castle for a long time before all of this, and when he heard what was happening with the mages…he refused to leave.” Her voice is barely a whisper now, but I can see anger flash in her eyes, and I get the impression they must have argued about it. They were close