Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cormal
Cormal hadn’t really known what would happen when he showed up to ask Brannal and Perian for forgiveness, but he could say without hesitation that he hadn’t expected any of this.
There had been so many surprise revelations that his brain was still reeling—and yet it also made a lot of sense, like an image that had been slightly out of focus was suddenly sharply visible.
He really wished they’d come up with a definite plan for Kinan, though. If Yannoma didn’t know more, he feared that no other carnalion would have a better idea. But it still felt as though they’d learned a lot.
As Cormal got dressed, he marveled, “Life Magic.”
The Prince was nodding. “It feels like a fairy tale.”
“I think a lot of work must have gone into suppressing it,” Cormal agreed.
Even with all the evidence staring him in the face, he still hadn’t figured out that Perian and Trill were Life Mages until Yannoma had explicitly said it.
It was their most revered type of magic, lamented and lost for centuries, and it existed only because of people who were half-human and half-demon.
The Great Betrayal, Yannoma had called it. He wondered just how many people were silenced to ensure the secret died there.
He’d been raised to hate demons and believe that they were always out to kill humans. He’d spent his entire life taking this as an inviolable truth. But even he, when faced with what Perian and Trill could do, had hesitated. How could someone have decided that it was worth it to destroy Life Magic?
Kinan nodded slowly, his expression sad. “Think of all the good they could have done all this time if we hadn’t hunted them down.”
Oh, Cormal was definitely thinking about that. He was thinking that the King might not be dead. For that matter, he wondered if his father and all the people in the wraith attack would be dead.
Before he could think about whether it was something he should bring up with Kinan, he blurted out, “I wonder if that’s what my father was doing with the wraiths.”
Kinan frowned. “What?”
“It just… it never made sense,” Cormal said a bit desperately.
“He said it was something for the King when he told me to be quiet about it. I never understood it. But what if he found some mention of Life Magic and demons? What if he thought there was a connection between the two, and he was trying to figure out what it was?”
An expression of understanding dawned on Kinan’s face. “Since it wouldn’t have occurred to him that someone could be half-demon, he thought he had to do something to the wraiths?”
“Exactly,” Cormal said. “We’ll never know for sure. But they’re generally considered the most dangerous and powerful. If he thought he could harness that power somehow? And... I don’t know, use them to transfer energy to the King?”
Kinan made a face. “By sucking it out of someone else?” His expression twisted further. “I mean, I know that’s sort of what Perian does, but I don’t think the wraiths are like that.”
“They’re definitely not like that,” Cormal agreed, shivering. “But in his arrogance, I’m sure my father thought he could control them, that he could be the one to crack the code. Can you imagine being the Summus who brought back Life Magic?”
Sighing, Kinan admitted, “That does sound like your father.” He hesitated for a moment. “Is it all right that I didn’t like him that much?” Then he looked horrified. “Wait, is that terrible to say? Never mind!”
Cormal huffed a laugh. “No, I’m not offended. If I’m being perfectly honest, I didn’t always like him that much either.” He let out an unsteady breath. “But he was my father, and I did respect him, once upon a time.”
Kinan tried to pat him on the arm. “Don’t feel bad. I get it. My mother banished Perian, after all, and I know that she’s our biggest impediment to the future that I want to achieve. But she’s still my mother, and I love her.”
But unlike Cormal, Kinan was willing to stand up to her.
“You’re braver than I am,” Cormal acknowledged.
Kinan shrugged. “Don’t make it more than it is.
I can’t say for sure that I’d have turned out anything like this if everything hadn’t happened like it did.
Six years of no one being able to see me or hear me or touch me—except my sister—definitely changed me.
And now I know that I’m in danger from demons, so…
” He struggled for a moment, like he couldn’t find the words.
“I don’t want to waste any time, you know?
And it’s hard to imagine my mother being able to do anything worse to me than what’s already happened. ”
He huffed a laugh and added, “Which is maybe just naive of me. But I know what it’s like to be hidden and lost and different.
I’m still some of those things now. And so it’s partly about me, the fact that this might not have happened at all if we had Life Mages, but it’s also about them, all the lives lost and the people in hiding right now, constantly fearful. I can’t imagine not acting.”
Cormal swallowed the lump in his throat and said with feeling, “You’re going to make a magnificent king one day.”
Kinan blinked at him, and then a shy smile lit up his face. “You think so?”
“Oh, Kinan, absolutely,” Cormal assured him, smiling at this hopeful, beautiful man.
“Even if we can’t get you solid again—though we definitely haven’t given up.
It’s this,” he said emphatically. “This fierceness, this belief. That’s what will make you a wonderful king.
We can figure everything else out. I will sign documents for you all day long. ”
Tears spilled onto Kinan’s cheeks, but he was still smiling.
“Your spirit’s all here,” Cormal assured him, his own eyes prickling with tears. “Everything essential about you. That’s what’s going to lead us.”
“I’ll try,” Kinan whispered. “Thank you.”
Cormal had enough trouble being Summus sometimes; he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lead the entire country.
Hopefully that was still years—decades—away.
But one day, Kinan would rule. Cormal would support him in every way possible, but he had to admit that he’d prefer if Brannal were Summus.
But to have any hope of bringing that reality to fruition, they had to figure out what to do next. Yannoma hadn’t offered a simple fix for Kinan, and there seemed to be a very real danger that he would be attacked by demons if they weren’t extremely careful.
Not to mention the fact that what Perian had done might not be permanent. Perian and Trill were both willing to help—but how exactly would that work? Perian was banished to this estate, and as things stood now, Trill couldn’t reveal what he could do without suffering the same fate or worse.
And that left them no further ahead than they’d been before. Cormal was sure that Delana could handle any issues they faced at the castle, but they couldn’t let that go on indefinitely.
At what point did they admit defeat?
Still, the visit wasn’t without its benefits.
He cherished all the time with Kinan, and it was clear that Molun, Arvus, Perian, and Brannal were delighted by their reunion.
Trill and Perian were excited to have found another of their kind—and Perian had been reunited with his mother.
(Cormal wasn’t totally sure they’d intended to tell him, and he was just going to keep his mouth shut and let Perian and Yannoma be in charge of any revelations.
He was definitely done with revealing anything about Perian without his consent.
The fact that Cormal had kind of inadvertently made out with Perian’s mother in front of him was something he was doing his best not to ever think about.)
Cormal had received more forgiveness than he’d ever expected, and he and Brannal even talked a little more about what had happened.
Cormal knew the real sticking point was how much Perian had been hurt—the attack Cormal had inadvertently set in motion and then that nightmare ride back for Brannal, when he’d feared the worst and Perian had been left thinking no one cared about him.
Cormal could empathize so much more now, because he could envision what a mess he’d be if Kinan were put in Perian’s place.
Cormal would probably have set the country on fire, to be honest.
No one looked too worried anymore when he and Brannal spent a bit of time together, and one afternoon they actually sat in the study and Brannal voluntarily brought up the subject.
Brannal sighed. “I don’t think the parallels with your father exact, but it is true that I hid the truth from you—although I wasn’t always certain myself, for reasons that have now become clear.
I thought of everything with Perian as personal, and I didn’t consider the broader implications.
Regardless, you were operating on incomplete information, and I kept what I knew from you.
I put you in a difficult position—I put Perian in a difficult position.
I wanted to keep him, and I didn’t think very much about possible consequences. I apologize for that.”
“Thank you,” Cormal said, surprised. “In the spirit of honesty, I think if you’d told me the truth then, I probably would have just messed everything up sooner, but thank you.”
Brannal huffed a half-laugh. “It’s all second-guessing and uncertainty, isn’t it?
We can imagine that we could go back and fix everything, imagine reacting with all the knowledge we have now, but the truth of the matter is that one tweak might have changed everything for everyone, and not necessarily in a good way. ”
Cormal was nodding. “I’d undo everything that happened to Perian if I could, but—”
He cut himself off as he realized Brannal might not like any conditions on that statement, but the man’s expression was thankfully not angry.