Chapter Nine #3
Beluna made sure the group was outfitted with supplies, and they kept watch while Pel huddled with Tor in the cart.
Pel knew it was possible they could travel a little faster if the horse was only pulling one person instead of two, but Pel found it completely impossible to leave Tor rattling around in the back of a cart while he was unconscious. He simply couldn’t do it.
(It didn’t rattle that much. Beluna had been very enterprising, and the back was packed with straw and blankets to make Tor as comfortable as possible.)
There should have been a lot of time to think, but Pel mostly found his brain spinning aimlessly, desperately worried about Tor and filled with too many questions and too few answers about what had happened.
Everybody’s behavior had been weird in some way and why didn’t Pel know more about magical exhaustion?
He cursed himself and wished desperately that they’d brought the healer with them, but Tond only had one healer, and King Forex had insisted he remain at the castle.
There was nothing that Pel could do except try to make sure that Tor was warm—but not too hot!—and check his pulse and breathing an unreasonable number of times. His heart rate and breathing were slow, while his skin was cooler to the touch than normal.
Pel had been inclined to panic, but thankfully, it turned out that Denil knew that was normal in cases of magical exhaustion. It was almost like all functions were suspended while the magic was rebuilt.
“My parents are scholars,” Denil explained. “They’ve researched a wide range of topics.”
Pel didn’t have any reason to think he was lying—and it wasn’t like he had any alternatives.
Beluna made sure Pel ate and drank when they did, and Pel spent the rest of the time clasping Tor’s hand and telling him that he was going to be all right.
They got a little water into Tor in small sips, but Denil assured him that he didn’t need food.
Pel would never, ever have wished for something like this to happen, but it had clarified a few things for him.
He wasn’t going to let anyone take Tor away from him without a fight, and if that meant arguing with the High King, that was exactly what Pel was going to do. He’d fight his own father, too.
It turned out this was a good resolution to have, because when they finally made it back to the castle with a still-unconscious Tor, it was to find an enraged king who was inclined to blame Tor—and Pel—for everything that had happened.
He was so angry, in fact, that he actually found them in the stables as they arrived and immediately began to yell at them.
Pel waited for a moment to see if his father was going to pause, but the diatribe showed no signs of stopping.
The last few days had been incredibly trying for Pel.
From planning a trip to Alossa, he and Tor had instead been plunged into a nightmare that had nearly killed them and hundreds of other people.
Tor had been unconscious for days, and they nearly had access to a healer, only this petty, angry man was in their way.
Pel felt his own frustration rise and rise until, finally, it exploded.
“Shut up!” he roared.
No doubt it was only surprise that actually silenced Forex, but Pel would take it.
“You can continue your rant later, Father,” he said curtly. “Just at the moment, High Prince Torex needs a healer, and I am not about to jeopardize his health because you can’t prioritize.”
His father was still spluttering when Pel walked away. Cavun was carrying Tor again. Tramili met them in the entryway and assured Pel the healer would be sent straight up to Tor’s rooms.
They’d barely gotten him arranged on the bed when the healer arrived.
Cavun, Beluna, and Denil stepped outside, and Pel barely remembered to yell a thank you after them, all his attention on the healer.
Wavilon was a couple of years older than Pel, with warm brown eyes that matched his skin color.
He was calm and matter-of-fact, and Pel had always liked him.
Pel had no idea if the man had realized what sort of a mood King Forex was in, but he attended to Tor as though that was his sole focus, which Pel appreciated more than he could say.
It was hard for Pel to let go of Tor’s hand, but he knew that Wavilon needed to take them in order to do his… magical scan, or whatever it was he did.
Wavilon reached out and clasped Tor’s hands carefully. After a moment, he grimaced, and looked sharply up at Pel.
“What happened?”
Pel guessed the man had heard some sort of rumor, but it made sense to get an accurate accounting before healing Tor.
Pel tried to explain as succinctly as he could: the landslide, the two massive shields that grew steadily pinker—and then the blast of pure white magic at the end that had allowed Tor to get them free.
He didn’t need the expression on the other man’s face to tell him that this was definitely not normal, but he’d sort of been hoping for a prosaic explanation. After all, it wasn’t like Pel was the most magic-savvy person out there.
“I don’t have an explanation for what occurred,” Wavilon admitted, “but this definitely feels like magical exhaustion. A boost from my magic should ensure that High Prince Torex recovers more quickly.”
“Please,” Pel said, throat tightening. “Anything you can do to help would be so appreciated.”
Pel couldn’t express what three days with an unconscious Tor had been like.
Wavilon gripped Tor’s hands more firmly, closed his eyes, and did… well, absolutely nothing, as far as Pel could see, but after several long minutes, his shoulders dropped, and he opened his eyes.
He smiled gently at Pel. “There. The imbalance is not so dangerous now. With my magic in his system bolstering his own, he should make a full recovery within a week or so, just as someone would with a physical ailment. However, he will be weak and continue to need to rest even when he regains consciousness. That should be later today or tomorrow.”
Pel was glad he was sitting on the bed beside Tor, because he felt suddenly like his limbs had turned to jelly, the relief overpowering.
“Thank you so much!”
Wavilon eyed him critically. “What about you, Prince Pelun? How are you feeling?”
Pel waved this aside. “Oh, I’m totally fine. Just sleep-deprived and rattled across the realm in a cart, that’s all. I’m guessing you gave a lot of magic to Tor, and I’m so grateful.”
Wavilon continued to examine him, but finally said, “Please make sure you eat and drink. Once High Prince Torex wakes naturally, he can begin to eat as well. Lots of liquids to start. I’ll have something sent up.”
“Thank you so much, Healer Wavilon,” Pel said earnestly. “This means so much to us.”
Wavilon bowed and retreated.
Pel reached out and clasped Tor’s hand again. If it wasn’t his imagination, Tor already felt a little warmer, like his body was getting closer to a normal state.
Pel was still sitting there when the door opened once more after barely a knock. Pel was totally ready to tell the person off, but it was Bavil. He was limping faintly, and he had a weird look on his face.
“Did you tell Father to shut up?” he asked.
“Tor needed a healer,” Pel said shortly.
Bavil’s lips curled up into a sudden grin. “I’ve wanted to do that for years.”
Pel found himself grinning back helplessly and letting out something that was almost a giggle.
It had been a very trying few days, all right?
Bavil continued, “How’s Torex doing?”
Pel explained about the magical exhaustion and Wavilon’s positive prognosis.
“The rants and rumors are so wild, I knew I needed the real story. What happened?”
“Pull up a chair,” Pel said, waving.
He wasn’t leaving Tor and the bed, and this wasn’t a quick explanation. He still wasn’t entirely certain how he felt about Bavil, but Tor seemed to trust him, and Pel had maybe been seeing more of the brother he used to have.
Besides, they could use all the help they could get at this point, because the goddess knew King Forex was unlikely to be swayed by any explanation.
Bavil’s eyebrows rose higher and higher the more Pel explained, and by the end of it, he was looking at Tor’s unconscious form with even more respect.
He rose to his feet and came over to Pel’s side of the bed.
“I don’t think anyone else could have done that.” He reached out and gave Pel’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “Good choice, little brother. I’ll see what I can do about Father.”
Pel stared in confusion at the door Bavil had just exited through. That certainly sounded positive. Had Pel grown so used to seeing barbs that he couldn’t unsee them? Was that what pure support looked like?
Larexa was the next to arrive, and she came in with a tray of food that she said had been in the sitting room.
“Why are there guards outside the door?” she wanted to know.
“Big man, short man, solid woman?” Pel checked.
He should actually have talked to them about this, but thankfully, they were continuing to take care of him and Tor while all Pel’s focus was on Tor getting well.
Larexa nodded.
“They’re protecting Tor.”
An eyebrow arched. “Why does Tor need protecting?”
Pel glowered. “Because some people are awful and think Tor should have let hundreds of people kill one another up that mountain!”
Never mind the fifteen hundred civilians that would have been pure slaughter.
In retrospect, Pel should have told Larexa and Bavil at the same time… but it hadn’t occurred to him that they’d be coming.
Pel explained everything once again while wolfing down the food Larexa had brought in, because he’d suddenly realized he was famished.
She made a very good audience, gasping in all the right places—and completely outraged at the idea that everyone hadn’t immediately supported Tor’s call for peace.
“Imagine deciding to kill one another after someone just saved all your lives!” She sounded scandalized.
“I know!” Pel agreed.
They grinned at one another, and Pel felt a sudden sharp pang of loss for the fact that he hadn’t had this for the last three years.
He’d thought it was because Bavil and Larexa had changed, but now he was just confused.
Had they changed back? Had Pel? Was everyone hiding behind a mask when it came to their father?
It was still too much to deal with right now, but Pel promised himself he really would think about it… eventually.
He needed Tor to be conscious first, at the very least.
“Is it all right if I stay for a while?” Larexa asked.
“Yes, of course,” Pel told her, even before he realized that she was probably the only person in the entire castle who might be able to shield Tor from their father if it came to that.
It wouldn’t, of course, he assured himself. Tor was still the High Prince, and Pel’s father could be unwise, but he wasn’t completely reckless.
It was still immensely reassuring to have Larexa in the room with them, so much so that when exhaustion swamped him, Pel let it pull him under.