Chapter Twenty-One #2
His mind flashed suddenly to Wavilon, who’d looked at Pel a little oddly once he’d assessed Tor. Had he realized that they were bonded and just assumed that they were keeping it quiet?
Pel almost wished he’d said something, only what would Pel have done with that knowledge? What would it have been like to confront the High King knowing they were already bonded and their sovereign might have felt compelled to try to break that bond?
Shivering, Pel conceded that maybe this had happened exactly the way it was supposed to. They were here now, and that was what mattered.
(Pel would think later about the fact that they were bonded, and it was pretty clear this would absolutely not come as a happy surprise to High King Varex.)
They were bonded, and as a result of that bond, Tor was alive right now. Pel’s magic, normally so inadequate, had been enough to protect Tor.
Belatedly, he wondered, “Why didn’t he use that magic, too?”
Why, up in the mountain, when he’d been straining so desperately, hadn’t he endangered Pel? Why hadn’t he done so when he’d clearly strained himself with his own magic bound thanks to the High King?
“It’s never been entirely clear,” Tama told him. “Some believe the choice is unconscious. Others believe it’s deliberate. What we assume is death due to the bond breaking could be from the dying partner pulling all the magic from the bond, trying to protect themselves.”
Pel shivered at the thought. “But I wouldn’t know how to do that. I wouldn’t be able to pull all of Tor’s magic to me.”
If people of disparate magic levels bonded, there was usually some equalization, but Pel wouldn’t suddenly become Extraordinary or even Illustrious—nor would Tor become Unremarkable.
“No,” she agreed. “It’s the magically stronger partner, if there is one.
And death due to a broken bond does still occur when two Unremarkable are bonded, and people die in their sleep or through a sudden accident, when no one is likely to have the time to react.
As I said, it’s not entirely clear.” Shrugging, she said, “Consciously or not, Torex protected you—and in turn, your magic kept him alive when he came perilously close to draining his core magic. Your continued contact has sustained him, though he’s not been able to do more than that, which is why he’s been in a magical coma this whole time.
Now I’ve shared my magic, which will allow his to rebuild.
” She smiled at Pel. “You saved his life.”
It was a weird thought to have. Pel had caught the man, and he’d brought him all the way back to Tond. He’d been intent on protecting Tor and keeping him safe this entire time… but this was different.
Pel’s magic—or lack thereof—had been a thorn in his side from the moment he’d Manifested… and now it had played a critical role in saving the man he loved.
He couldn’t really ask for more than that.
Unable to help himself, Pel grinned at Tama—which felt a little weird, as he hadn’t had a lot of reasons to smile recently, but it seemed to be the only way to express the rising giddiness inside him.
Pel had helped save Tor! Pel’s magic had been useful! Tor was going to be all right!
She smiled back at him.
“I’ll stay with you tonight and see if Prince Torex needs another influx of magic in the morning.”
Pel could only nod. Tama was definitely the expert here when it came to healing, and he wasn’t about to turn down any help they could get.
Belatedly, he realized that Cavun and Beluna had already gone to bed, or at least were politely pretending that they were sleeping. Denil was on watch, and Bavil had taken a seat next to Pel and Tor, his Mantled blade still lighting up the area for them.
Tama stretched out on Tor’s other side, not close enough to touch, but clearly ready should she be needed.
Bavil rearranged the blankets so that he was by Pel’s side, and then the light winked out. Pel wondered for a moment why he and Tama didn’t sleep together… but he supposed it was pretty awkward to wind up with your little brother in the middle of your assignation.
Somewhere in the long journey back, Pel had ceased to have any shame about curling up next to Tor no matter how they were sleeping, and he felt even more comfortable now that he knew that his magic was helping.
It might not matter anymore since Tama had boosted Tor’s magic, but that wasn’t going to stop Pel.
Besides, being tucked up against Tor was the best way to feel his heartbeat, and Pel didn’t think it was his imagination that it was already stronger and more frequent than it had been since Pel had caught Tor’s unconscious body at the castle in Nexa.
The sun was well up when Pel woke, though it was battling with the clouds that seemed so omnipresent in the mountains these days. It was a far cry from waking before dawn and getting immediately underway for yet another day of rowing.
He checked Tor’s pulse out of habit, relaxing as he felt how much stronger it was than yesterday.
Tor still didn’t stir, but Pel reminded himself that this had happened when Wavilon had loaned him magic after the first time he’d magically exhausted himself. He hadn’t woken instantly, and Pel should stop expecting that now.
Pel ran a critical eye over the man. Tor’s color was definitely better. He was still too pale, but his lips were pink again, and laying a hand on Tor’s forehead confirmed that he was warmer than he had been since they’d fled Alossa.
Pel twined his hand with Tor’s, curling their fingers together. Even knowing now that he was doing this to connect them, Pel didn’t want to stop. Tama had done more good with her magic than Pel ever could at this stage, but he always wanted to be close to Tor.
He wanted to stay close to him forever—which they could maybe have now that they were bonded… as long as they sorted everything out with the High King. Admittedly, this seemed like a tall order at the moment, but given everything that Tor had just survived, maybe it was possible.
Might the High King try to break the bond?
King Forex would undoubtedly have done so, furious that he’d been thwarted, but fortunately, Tor didn’t owe the man his allegiance, so it wasn’t possible.
The High King was the only one who could try to break the bond of people from different countries within the United Realms.
Surely, the High King wouldn’t attempt such a thing… not unless he confirmed the charge of treason, in which case Pel risked death either with Tor’s death or with the High King trying to break the bond beforehand.
Pel didn’t like either of those options.
Technically, he and Tor could be compelled to live apart, but it was rare for anyone to challenge a bond in that way. Occasionally, people decided they didn’t suit and made the choice to separate without breaking the bond, but that was unusual. Outside interference was almost unheard of.
Pel was aware these circumstances could definitely be called unusual, but he had to hope that common sense would win out. Like it or not, want Princess Terila or not, Pel and Tor were bonded now, and trying to undo that could kill both of them.
Pel would never have done it deliberately, but having done it accidentally, he was relieved by this particular side effect. It made it a lot more difficult for anyone to try to take Tor away from him.
When Tama rose, she checked on Tor and gave him another loan of magic.
“He probably doesn’t really need it,” she confided, “but it won’t hurt.”
Pel was desperately grateful for every bit of help.
They—by which Pel meant not him—made breakfast and then sat around the fire to eat it.
It was raining again, and they didn’t have to go out in it if they didn’t want to.
They really had nothing to do today except sit around and wait for Tor to regain consciousness.
It was at once liberating and a little bit off-putting.
Pel had been able to hold it together this long because he’d had a clear purpose.
Protecting Tor had taken up all of his energy.
Now… Tor was on the mend. Pel had connected with Bavil inadvertently and didn’t have to make the decision of whether to trust him or not.
They’d reached… if not their ultimate destination, because they probably weren’t going to live in this cave for the rest of their lives, at least the next stopping point.
Once Tor was awake, he would no doubt have plenty of his own opinions about what they should do next.
Pel looked forward to arguing with him about what was probably going to be an asinine plan.
It was glorious to get to rest with the weight of responsibility off his shoulders for a little while… and Pel felt totally antsy already, and he’d been awake for all of an hour.
Cavun wouldn’t let him help clean up after breakfast, so Pel went to pull a few more logs from the stack of firewood so they wouldn’t run short.
The cave was thankfully dry, but the rain made it feel damp, and Pel thought they would probably keep the fire lit the whole day, a little bit of warmth as well as increased light in the cave to combat the overcast skies.
He groaned as he clasped the firewood. Everyone looked at him.
He cleared his throat, feeling his face heat. “Sorry. Just my arms.” And hands and shoulders and back and legs. “It’s been a long few days of rowing.”
Beluna made a face. “Tell me about it. I thought the time on the horses would help, but it’s like they’re competing for soreness now.”
Yeah, Pel had noticed that, too. He normally rode regularly, but thanks to the trip to Alossa, he’d spent about three weeks not riding, and rowing definitely hadn’t used the same muscles.
Tama came over to him. “Let me get a look at you.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Pel demurred immediately. “You’ve already helped Tor, and that’s more than I could ever ask for.”
It’s more than he could ever repay.
She shot him a look of exasperation. “I’m a healer; it’s what I do. If I didn’t have the strength for it, I wouldn’t offer.”
And really, what could Pel say to that? He had to trust that she knew her own limits.
“Thank you,” he said fervently.
She reached out and cupped his face in her palms. She was almost as tall as he was, perhaps an inch shorter.
She stared at him intently, and he stared back into her dark brown eyes… but it was more like she was seeing through him—or, he supposed, seeing inside him.
Which was actually a little alarming, when he thought about it.
And then a weird feeling swept over him, a little like what he’d felt when he Blended with Tor, but…
subtly wrong. It had to be Tama’s magic, and unlike Tor’s magic, it didn’t feel like it belonged.
It wasn’t terrible, nothing like the repulsion Tor had described with Princess Terila, but it was still an intrusion, not the natural connection and surge of positive feelings with Tor.
Belatedly, he became aware that the aches had already begun to fade out of his body.
“Thank you so much,” he told her.
He hadn’t used a healer in years, because King Forex was of the opinion that Wavilon’s skills should be reserved for more deserving individuals.
Thankfully, he hadn’t been particularly prone to accident or illness. It wasn’t like most people didn’t survive without a healer just fine. But having the healing process accelerated to such a degree was rather amazing.
After Pel, Tama went round and healed Beluna, Denil, and Cavun—at her insistence, because Pel wasn’t the only one who tried to demur.
Instead, Pel watched as tense shoulders slowly relaxed, and they were all suddenly pain free. He knew without asking that they’d all do exactly the same again if it meant keeping Tor safe, but it was lovely not having to deal with this particular consequence.
“Thank you,” Pel repeated after Tama had finished, like he’d become responsible for the whole group.
They rearranged themselves around the fire, Cavun having gently scooped Tor up and moved him, because Pel was going to be by his side no matter what.
“I’m happy to help,” she told him. She hesitated for a moment, and then added carefully, “It’s a very small way I can repay Prince Torex for what he did for us on the mountain.”
There was a moment where Pel didn’t understand, and then his eyes flew to his brother’s, who looked guilty and half-defiant.
Shocked, Pel asked, “You’re meeting an exile?”