Chapter One #3
Tama shook her head. “No, your magic is no longer bound. If it was previously, the binding had dissolved by the time you met me, possibly because your magic was so exhausted that there was practically nothing left to bind.”
Beside him, Pel shivered, and Tor leaned further into him. Although that was a sobering reminder of his brush with death, relief swamped Tor, drowning out everything else. He couldn’t help but be elated that his magic was no longer bound.
He had the feeling that he was going to need his magic.
Tama continued, “You should regain your full magical strength, but it’s going to take some time.”
Tor was afraid he didn’t have a lot of time, but that was a different issue. He was conscious now, and that was critical. They could figure everything else out.
“Well, I really appreciate your willingness to help,” Tor reiterated. “I know relations haven’t exactly been cordial in recent years.” He cleared his throat and awkwardly asked, “You, uh, are all right with me calling you Tama?”
She’d been the one to introduce herself, but it seemed awfully informal under the circumstances, and he hoped she hadn’t felt constrained in some way by his position.
She looked bemused. “That’s the only name I have. We don’t measure strength as exiles. No ruler to assess us.”
Tor blinked, stunned. That… made sense. But it was ingrained for Tor: the ruler would assess the magical strength of each citizen at their Presentation in their teens and give them the suffix that identified their magic level so that everyone knew how magical they were.
“I hadn’t thought about it,” he admitted.
Tama’s expression was wry. “It was just one of the benefits we acquired when we left.”
Tor thought of how Pel was treated as Unremarkable.
How might his life be different if he had only his short name, if people didn’t know his magical strength unless they asked?
Or if there was no assessment of magical strength at all?
Although… it would still become clear based on what people did with their magic, wouldn’t it?
Before Tor could ask, Tama continued. “We thought there were a great many benefits at first, but the risks seem only to have grown over the years.”
Pel, Tama, and Bavil explained everything that they’d discussed while Tor had been unconscious. The natural disasters in the exiles’ land were definitely not doing them any favors, but it was equally clear that there was meddling from the United Realms.
King Forex had never been happy with the way that Tond had been reduced in size following the peace accord, their land across the mountains in the west given over to the exiles.
It shouldn’t really surprise Tor that the man had gone from killing those he captured to forcing them to swear Fealty to him or die. After all, he’d been prepared to slaughter all of them, including the children, when he’d ordered his guards up the mountain to attack.
Resolution filled Tor. Forex needed to be stopped.
But he had a lot of power here, especially given that Tor was…
what? On the run? If not technically an exile himself, something perilously close?
Tor pushed the thought away. He’d have to deal with what his brother had done to him—and the ways that Tor had played right into the hands of whoever had orchestrated this—soon, but not right now.
Pel had brought Tor back to Tond so that he’d be safe.
He was probably presumed dead, and Tor was going to assume that Pamuna had gotten Cala to safety because the alternative was unthinkable.
That meant his family was safe for the moment, and he needed to focus on what was happening right in front of him.
Tor would always protect his family, but if thousands of rebels needed to be saved from King Forex’s unfair attack once again, then Tor had to figure out how to make that happen.
“What is King Forex likely to do?” Tor wanted to know. “Will he wait until my brother makes a decision?”
Bavil hesitated for a moment, a weird look on his handsome face. “There’s something else.”
(Tor knew that, objectively, Bavil was more attractive than his brother, but he couldn’t seem to really see it anymore. He’d pick Pel every time.)
Pel groaned, sagging a little against Tor. “Oh, what’s he done now?”
Tor squeezed his arm.
Bavil blew out a breath, radiating tension. Tor braced himself and swore he’d protect Pel no matter what.
“I didn’t know how to tell you before,” Bavil started, looking seriously at Pel. “I didn’t want to stress you with what was going on with Torex.”
“What happened?” Pel demanded, not sounding at all reassured by his brother’s preamble.
Bavil squared his shoulders. “He left the day after you did. Took a group of guards—maybe a dozen—and said he had to go sort something out. He claimed he wasn’t going after the exiles, and given those numbers, I’m inclined to think he was telling the truth.
” Bavil’s lips tightened. “I asked him what he was doing, and he wouldn’t tell me. But he didn’t come back.”
Tor and Pel exchanged stunned glances.
“But it’s been weeks,” Pel said blankly.
It had been almost a month since they’d set out from Tond for Alossa.
Bavil sucked in a breath and then blurted out, “I think he’s dead.”