Chapter Thirty-Five
Cormal
It couldn’t possibly be true to say that Cormal had never been more worried in his life. He’d lived through a lot of extremely stressful points, and his fear about what Perian was had led to this whole chain of events.
But it felt like he’d never been more worried. He was more invested, anyway. He’d never cared quite so much about one individual person, and they’d never been in quite so much danger before.
There was still part of Cormal that wanted to refuse to do this, but he knew it wasn’t his right. Kinan wanted this, needed this.
But it didn’t mean Cormal wasn’t scared.
The journal had been invaluable, even if it hadn’t been a precise guide to what to do in this situation. It had laid out the steps that Lokinna and her husband had used in order to rebuild limbs, and from that, they’d been able to extrapolate.
Onadal had found them a former Warrior who’d retired when they’d lost the lower part of their leg in a fight with a lesser demon. Even knowing that this magic was new and unknown, Sopellan had volunteered to be experimented upon, and the Life Mages and Elemental Mages had… recreated the leg.
They tried first with just Cormal and confirmed what Lokinna had written in her journal; all four elements were needed in conjunction with the Life Magic to have an effect.
Brannal formed a shield like a tunnel around where the leg should go.
When Perian and Trill had begun pushing Life Magic through it, it had gone opaque and more closely formed the shape of the missing limb.
“It’s not like any attack on a shield that I’ve experienced before,” Brannal had explained.
“It didn’t feel hostile. More like I was constantly rebuilding the shield, but in an organic way?
” He made a frustrated noise. “I don’t know how to describe it.
It was a constant effort to maintain the shield. ”
When that energy drain had dropped off, Brannal had let the shield fall—and a leg had been there where no leg had been before. Sopellan had two full legs, looking entirely identical, and two feet—thankfully, one right and one left—and they… looked whole.
Sopellan had wept, hugged everyone, and easily agreed to stay here in the castle and keep quiet until the attempt with Kinan.
If it went wrong—not that it was allowed to go wrong—then there was still an amazing example of Life Magic to demonstrate.
When it went right—Cormal was accepting no other outcome—it just meant there’d be more examples, and not all of the attention would be on Kinan.
They learned that it did indeed take a lot of energy. Perian, Trill, and Brannal had all been exhausted afterwards. Molun and Arvus had dragged them off, and Cormal hadn’t asked for any details. This meant they’d need a lot of energy, so rumors were running rife through the castle.
“We need to make sure the source is virtually inexhaustible,” Perian insisted. “Or what happens if we get half done and can’t continue?” He looked a little green. “Can half a body survive? We have to work this out!”
They would hear no complaints from Cormal. He apologized to Perian about all the grief he’d given him for the energy-gathering last time.
It was a sign of how much things had changed that Perian just patted him on the shoulder and assured him that Kinan would be fine.
Poor Kinan was a bundle of nerves trying not to get his hopes up—but obviously getting his hopes up, because how could he not?
They were taking no chances. In addition to Brannal, they had more Mage Warriors: Cormal, Molun, and Arvus were there, and they’d practiced overlaying a shield together.
All of them had back-ups, too, just in case, although Livala was a bit of a risk.
There was no way she could sustain a fire shield on her own yet, but she’d been able to work with the others, where the structure was mostly theirs but she was essentially sharing her magic.
(They hadn’t even known they could do that; they never taught shields so early because novices couldn’t sustain them on their own. So that would spawn a whole bunch more training. Later.)
They had back-ups upon back-ups for Brannal, and Perian and Trill had been…
energized extremely well. Truly, an absurdly large number of friends, colleagues, and kind citizens had agreed to stand by and be ready to generate more lust should it prove necessary.
Yannoma had promised to help people stay in the mood and keep the recovery quick.
“What?” Kinan wanted to know, apparently catching Cormal’s mood.
Instead of saying it was nothing—he’d learned the hard way that when they were all keyed up like this, that only made Kinan way more anxious—Cormal confessed: “I’ve never been less in the mood for sex.”
This surprised a faint laugh out of Kinan, who looked a little surprised at the sound coming out of his mouth. It had been hard not to get somber knowing what was at stake.
Kinan nudged through his ribs. “Good thing you’ve got another role to play here, then.”
Cormal nodded and tried not to get nervous. He’d been able to make a shield for a decade. He’d been practicing incessantly with Molun and Arvus. Delana, Tinnadal, and Rollanor had been practicing constantly with Livala.
Their, uh, sex energy volunteers were gathered in the throne room, behind a variety of screens if they wanted privacy. Kinan was in one of the antechambers. It should be close enough for the energy, and it gave them a little more privacy.
The Queen and the doctor were observing, as was Kinan’s sister.
Perian’s attempt to talk her out of it in case something went wrong had been completely unsuccessful.
She’d argued that she would never be able to accept the outcome if she wasn’t there, and the Queen had reluctantly conceded the point.
Cormal might find Princess Larenia endlessly frustrating, but he also admired her bravery and stubbornness—more so when it wasn’t directed at him.
Thankfully, since he’d returned with Perian and Brannal, the hostility had diminished.
She certainly hadn’t forgiven him, and she still mostly ignored him, but she no longer left every room that he was in.
They were all anxious, but they were committed to making this work.
It seemed a lot scarier to rebuild a whole body than just part of a leg. Especially because it suggested that Kinan would be entirely encased in a shield they couldn’t see through. Which meant that if something happened, if Kinan began to flicker and weaken, they wouldn’t necessarily see it…
Cormal kind of hated everything about this plan.
He reminded himself that Perian and Trill would be feeding him Life Energy, just as they had Sopellan. They’d promised to send a steady stream, and Cormal knew they’d be doing everything they could to protect Kinan, he just… he wanted desperately for the man to be safe.
It had taken just over twenty minutes for the leg, so they guessed it would take a dozen or more times longer for Kinan—not that they knew for sure that it worked like that. He’d be lying down directly on the floor because it would keep him stable and make it easy to maintain the shield.
Trill had been practicing endlessly, too, and he could send energy to Kinan every time now. Perian had basically been doing it in his sleep for months.
Cormal and the others had practiced layering their shields with Brannal’s so that he could remove his and theirs would remain with no gaps or delays, and vice versa.
Cormal knew they were as ready as they were going to get—without doing this the other way around, declaring that Life Mages were back and good, then trying to practice on everyone who wanted healing before they moved on to Kinan.
Why weren’t they doing that again?
“Ready,” Kinan was saying, and Cormal’s attention snapped back to the present, where Kinan was laid out on a blanket on the floor.
They’d gone back and forth about cushions, but Kinan had pointed out that he couldn’t feel them anyway.
“Ready,” Perian and Trill confirmed next.
The doctor was sitting next to Kinan, calmly ensuring that he recalled all of the effects and sensations that Sopellan had described.
“You can tell us to stop at any time,” the doctor reminded him.
Kinan nodded, but Cormal already knew that Kinan wasn’t going to ask them to stop. And since they didn’t know what would happen if they tried, it was probably just as well.
Last night, they’d stroked themselves slowly and languorously. Although Cormal had utterly refused to call it a goodbye, he’d been aware that the edge of desperation had turned it into more of a just in case than he wanted.
Kinan smiled at Cormal. “I love you.”
Cormal had to smooth out his fists and not snarl. It wasn’t Kinan’s fault that sounded a bit like goodbye.
“Love you, too,” Cormal told him.
Those gray eyes were nervous but bright.
Perian said, “See you soon, Kee,” which seemed flippant and ridiculous, and Cormal wanted to snap, but he saw the way it made Kinan’s eyes soften, and so he bit back his retort.
“See you soon, Perian. I owe you a really big hug.”
Brannal said, “On three. One, two, three.”
The shield formed almost instantly, translucent and shimmering, still one of the strongest and most beautiful shields Cormal had ever seen.
The other back-ups were standing at the back of the room, anxiously waiting to see if they’d be needed.
Cormal couldn’t make himself move more than a foot or so away from Kinan.
Cormal made himself smirk at Kinan. “Time to get naked.”
An answering smile lit Kinan’s face, though he looked embarrassed, too.
He was made of energy, and so his clothes were probably just energy too and wouldn’t get in the way.
But Lokinna’s notes had mentioned nothing between the shield and the patient, and they’d decided they better not take the risk.