Chapter Sixteen #2
Tor climbed into the room, pulling the magic back into him.
It came, but it felt… sluggish? That had never happened before, but clearly nothing about today was normal.
There were two dead guards on the floor by the door.
It looked like they’d fought. One had been stabbed in the gut, the other in the neck.
Voice thick, Pamuna said, “One of them—one of them tried to open the door. The other fought him and managed to get the door locked again, but his wounds were too severe.”
The loyal one appeared to have locked the door and got a large wardrobe pulled in front of it before succumbing to his wounds. Tor’s lips tightened. He was definitely going to make these asses pay for everything they’d done today.
Cala was crying, Tor realized, and Pamuna scooped her up from her cradle and arranged her in the sling that was already attached to her body.
Tor had witnessed a few of those days himself, where Cala didn’t want anything except to be in your arms and walking around—and while you wouldn’t think a baby was that heavy, by hour twelve, it was more work than you thought.
Cala’s arms and legs flailed from either side of the sling as she settled against Pama’s chest.
The door rattled ominously, making Pamuna flinch. The sound of fighting intensified. Every crash at the door suggested the guards weren’t winning.
From out the window, he could still hear periodic cries of “Fire!” or “Foe!”
Wildly, Tor wondered if there was actually a fire, or if it was just a distraction.
The crashes against the door were coming rhythmically now, and the wood, solid as it was, was only going to last so much longer.
Goddess, protect Cala.
If this was fate or consequences reaching Tor, he’d deal with that. But Cala needed to be safe. Tor was only one man, and Pamuna wasn’t a guard and only had a dagger. Tor didn’t want to count on the force outside being overcome by the castle guards.
He could take them back out the window, assuming his magic held, but Tor with the baby would be a huge target. That meant—
His thoughts abruptly rearranged themselves. It was so simple, it just might work. He smiled fiercely at Pamuna.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to go out the window with the baby.”
Pamuna’s eyes grew even wider.
He hurried on before she could protest, meeting her gaze squarely.
“I’m going to lower you out. There is absolutely nothing to worry about.
” Please, Goddess, protect Cala. “I’m going to shield Cala, so you know she’ll be safe.
You’re going to keep her in that sling and cover her in a blanket, and you’re going to take her to her father. Only her father. Do you understand?”
Tor had no idea who to trust at the moment, but despite everything that had happened, he knew without question that Cala would be safe with her father.
Pamuna was staring at him wildly. Her breath was coming too fast. But after a moment, she nodded.
“To her father. I understand.”
Tor swallowed, exhaled, and squared his shoulders. That was all he needed to know.
“I’ll stay here, and I’ll fight off whoever comes through the door, so you’ll have time to get to Var. All right?”
“But they’ll see the baby isn’t here.”
Tor grinned at her. “Only they won’t.”
He waved up a shield of magic over the baby’s cradle. Pamuna’s sucked in a sharp breath when she saw the color.
“Torex—” she began.
Shrugging, he said, “They’ll believe the baby is there.” He gazed at her intently. “Nothing can happen to Cala. That’s what matters right now.”
She was Cala’s nurse for a reason. If Fernila had got one thing right, it was putting this woman in that position.
She adored Cala, and she’d make sure the baby was safe.
Tor didn’t trust Fernila as far as he could throw her, but as long as Cala was delivered to Var, Tor was sure he’d take care of her.
Pamuna’s nod was a little shaky, but it was definitely a nod.
Tor reached out a hand and laid it soothingly on Cala’s back, through the sling.
“Hey there, baby girl.” She turned to look at him, face scrunched up from crying, but when she saw him, she stopped.
He smiled at her. “That’s better. You’re probably wondering what all the noise is about, right?
Anyone would think a perfect baby girl didn’t have the right to sleep through the night! ”
She smiled at him, that beautiful baby grin.
“She’s started teething,” Pamuna muttered. “No one is sleeping through the night.”
Tor huffed a breath that was almost a laugh, even as he felt tears prickle at the back of his eyes. He was ignoring those.
It explained why Pamuna had been so close at hand in the middle of the night. Tor had never been more grateful.
“Well, this is an even ruder wake-up call than normal, but everything is going to be totally fine. You’re going to go have a little adventure with Pamuna, and then you’re going to see your daddy. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
She smiled at him again, and then she let out a yawn that seemed to take her by surprise.
The door jolted again, and there was a scream from the hallway. Cala looked as though she was going to take exception to that, but Tor stroked her back again.
“No, no, baby girl, there’s nothing whatsoever for you to worry about. You just go to sleep with Pamuna, and she’s going to take you to see your daddy. It’s all right. Just go to sleep.”
He continued to stroke his hand over her back, trying to ignore the chaos in the hallway and the knowledge that he was working on borrowed time.
He kept stroking over her back, and a shimmering shield slowly coalesced into place, barely any space between the shield and her skin. The pink was getting darker, and Pamuna’s breath caught, but Tor made himself ignore it.
He wouldn’t normally set a shield this close to someone, and he simply wasn’t going to think about the fact that he was attaching it to Pamuna instead of the ground while Pamuna would be moving away from him.
Whatever. It was fine. He liked a challenge. He’d thought he was going to die on that mountain, but it appeared his goddess had a different fate in store for him. She’d brought him here for a reason, and he was fully on board with it.
The door shuddered with more blows in rapid succession, and Tor feared this meant the attackers had won in the corridor.
But the baby was snuggled up in her sling, and even if Tor had made a series of terrible decisions, he was certain he was making some good ones, too.
Maybe it was all happening exactly the way it was supposed to.
If Pel hadn’t walked out, he might be in this room with Tor right now.
Or he might have been killed in the dungeon as collateral damage.
If Rin wasn’t in Vayrin trying to avert a war, the same.
Tor didn’t want this to be his last stand, but if he could keep those he loved safe because of it, it would be worth it.
“Let’s wrap her up,” Tor said.
They managed to pull a blanket around Pamuna sort of like it was a cloak and pin it closed with diaper pins, of all things. It looked a little weird, but it was clearly a weird night. With luck, no one would look too closely.
It was the best they could do.
The door shuddered again, and they were spurred into action.
Tor attached his magic to the window, then tied it securely around Pamuna, looping it around her so that there was no risk of her falling.
Forming the magic now felt like it had in the mountains, pulling on something that wasn’t supposed to be pulled, but Tor persevered.
She still looked terrified, and Tor couldn’t really blame her.
“Your magic,” she whispered.
“Enough to get you out the window,” he assured her with every ounce of conviction he had. “You just get Cala to her father.”
“I will. I promise.” She darted in suddenly and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”
He smiled at her. “You don’t have to thank me for this.”
There was no way Tor wouldn’t act to protect Cala. And maybe he could have left with them. Maybe they could have escaped in time. But he couldn’t risk it, not when he didn’t know how many foes they were facing or how quickly they would react to the Princess not being in the nursery.
Pamuna got one leg over the windowsill, then the other. There was something like stark terror in her eyes.
“It’s going to be totally fine,” Tor kept his voice low and reassuring, glad she couldn’t sense the wild hammering of his heart. “I’m going to lower you down, then I’m going to swing you, and you’re going to climb in the window. It’s already open, because it’s the one I came out. Right?”
She gulped. “Right.”
There was a splintering sound behind Tor.
“Time to go.”
He lowered her carefully, holding onto her physically as long as he could and then holding onto his rope of pure magic.
He’d never tried to swing a woman with a baby to a window before, and if it wasn’t likely to become a moot point soon, he’d definitely want to practice.
The first swing didn’t go far enough, and on the second, he realized his mistake.
He corrected and hauled up the rope a little so that Pamuna’s feet were level with the bottom of the window instead of her hands.
On the fourth try, Pamuna managed to catch hold of the window frame, crouch, and climb into the room.
She raised her hand, and then she was gone.
Tor let the magic dissolve, a tiny lessening of a load he wasn’t sure his body could bear. The blood was rushing in his ears. He could feel the strain from the shield that was moving away from him, but he had to maintain it, so that’s all there was to that.
He closed the window and turned to face the door, putting himself protectively in front of the cradle and waited.
He was barely in time. The door exploded inward, the sheer force shoving the wardrobe out of the way. Guards spilled into the room, although Tor realized after a moment that their uniforms weren’t quite right, colors slightly off, some only in dark clothing. Mercenaries dressed as guards?
No part of this was good.
Well, except for the part where they stumbled to a halt looking thoroughly confused when they saw him.
Tor grinned. “You called for me? Well, here I am.”
They gaped at him, and he grinned even wider.
For a moment, it was a stand-off, and then one of them snarled, “Get the babe. And the Prince!”
They rushed him, and he felt a surge of gratitude for the defense he’d done with Pel where he hadn’t used any magic. He’d thought about it as training for Pel, but he stood very much corrected.
And then Tor stopped thinking and acted.
He killed the first two attackers and injured the third badly enough that they were down.
Then he didn’t parry fast enough and received a slice across the leg, but he was still standing, so it couldn’t have been vital.
It was chaos after that, dealing and receiving various wounds, thankfully none of them fatal for Tor.
“Get the baby!” someone yelled.
Three of them rushed the cradle, and Tor dove after them, attacking viciously. He finally had to reach out and grab one with a strand of magic and fling them across the room.
“He’s not supposed to have any magic!”
Fleetingly, Tor considered that they seemed to be awfully very well-informed for mercenaries.
“But look at the color!” Another one yelled, the man grinning unpleasantly at Tor. “It’s killing him.”
The magic was getting darker and darker, and Tor was running out of time. Maybe he’d run out of time on the mountain, and he’d just borrowed the rest. If it saved Cala, it was worth it. He’d had months with Pel, and those were the best.
He killed two more, but he missed a third, and the stab to his side made him scream. He must have been Mantling, he realized, or he’d probably be dead. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he straightened and fought on.
He had no idea how long it had been, nor did he know how long it would take Pamuna to find Var, but he prayed this was long enough.
There was a commotion in the corridor, and Tor was momentarily distracted. One of the fighters reached the cradle, and he turned back with a look of confusion and outrage on his face.
“Hey, the baby—!”
Reacting instinctively, Tor dissolved the shield and threw the magic up to the ceiling even as he stumbled to the window. He pulled with all his strength, both magical and physical. A tear resonated deep inside him, an awful unmoored feeling, somewhere he wasn’t supposed to touch.
With a great cracking sound, the ceiling began to cave in, and Tor threw himself out the window thinking of rope and magic and safety and Pel even as the world wavered and went black.