Chapter Two
Tor
Pel went utterly still at Tor’s side. Tor reached for his hand and twined their fingers together. He squeezed gently, and after a long, frozen moment, the other man squeezed back.
“What do you mean, dead?”
It was an inane question, but Tor couldn’t blame Pel for asking it. Tor had felt the same way when he’d learned of his mother’s death. She’d been the foundation of his entire life, she’d been so powerful… and then she was simply gone.
The head healer had said it was something in her brain that had happened while she slept. By the time anyone had checked on her in the morning, it had been far too late.
Even years later, trying to recall the immediate aftermath of her death was impossible.
It was like Tor had been present but not processing.
So yes, Tor understood that Pel was reeling now.
Forex had definitely not been Tor’s favorite person, not least for the way he treated Pel, but he was still Pel’s father, and a figure who loomed large in his life.
Thanks to Tor, Pel had run away and gone to Alossa without even telling his father what he was doing.
And that would now always be their last act.
“Why aren’t you sure?” Pel asked suddenly, looking at his brother.
Bavil made a face, swallowed again. “We still haven’t found him.”
Tor narrowed his eyes. “But something happened, or you wouldn’t assume he was dead.”
It was a long and unusual absence, sure, but King Forex was the sort to do whatever he wanted and not worry about what other people might think.
Bavil sighed and admitted, “It’s the Fealty.”
Pel’s eyes flickered closed for a moment, then opened again. His fingers tightened on Tor’s. “You inherited the Tondian Fealty.”
Bavil half-nodded, half-shrugged. “I can’t think what else it would be. But I haven’t spoken of it to anyone yet. I don’t want to risk causing a panic. I still have no idea where Father went. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it was something else.”
At each citizen’s Presentation once they’d Manifested in their teens, they pledged their Fealty to their ruler. The ruler got a small piece of their magic and pledged to protect them in exchange.
It was why every ruling sovereign had an Exceptional magic status, even if that wasn’t the one they’d originally Manifested.
He didn’t quite understand the details, but even when they weren’t tapping into the Fealty actively, their baseline magic was increased, and they gained the ability to create free-standing magic and Mantle objects they weren’t touching.
Their actual magical strength if they tapped into the Fealty was greater than a normal Extraordinary, but since the war had ended twenty-five years ago, it was an academic point.
The rulers had been working to keep the peace rather than attacking one another with large avatars of pure magic.
Varex had inherited the Fealty from their mother, as expected.
(Fealty almost always went along common inheritance lines, but it became unpredictable if there was no immediate family or occasionally at the goddess’s whim.) Varex had described it as an overwhelming rush of magic like he’d never experienced before.
When Tor had tapped into Varex’s magic to shield everyone during the landslide up the mountain, he assumed he’d felt a small echo of that—and just that had flooded his body.
Tor couldn’t imagine that Bavil had mistaken anything else for Fealty.
But he could also see why the man wasn’t ready to state anything unequivocally.
Doing so would mean confirming his father’s death.
It had been hard enough for Tor to believe when he’d been able to see his mother’s body.
They didn’t even know where to start looking for Forex’s.
“I’m sorry,” Tor told Pel and Bavil belatedly, realizing that hearing news of the death of a parent should be recognized as more than a political nightmare.
Pel blinked at him, looking a little dazed.
“Pel, I’m so sorry,” he repeated.
Pel swallowed visibly, and then he leaned his head against Tor’s, like it wasn’t just Tor who needed all the support right now.
“He wasn’t much of a father,” he mumbled against Tor’s skin, his breath a warm gust.
Tor agreed with this assessment probably even more vehemently than Pel did, but he knew that wasn’t the point.
“I’m still sorry,” Tor assured him.
Emotions were messy, and someone might not deserve love or affection but have it anyway.
Pel huffed something that was almost a laugh. “If you insist on being sorry, I guess I can’t stop you.”
Honestly, Tor was pretty sure that the man’s death could only be a good thing for Pel and Tond and the United Realms… but he was still Pel’s father. Pel was still processing the news, and Tor didn’t want to say anything that might be regretted later.
He’d keep his good riddance firmly on the inside and remind himself that maybe once upon a time the man had had some good qualities.
Pel squeezed Tor’s hand, and Tor returned the pressure. He’d support Pel however he needed to be supported. And he was also going to try to help his brother out.
“I may not be an expert in Fealty, but I can test if you have Extraordinary magical ability now,” Tor told Bavil. He gestured at one of the bundles of blankets that had been tucked to the side during the day. “You were at a number of Larexa’s lessons. Shield that.”
Bavil looked stunned, like he hadn’t realized all the implications. If he had the Fealty of the people, then he was unquestionably Extraordinary. And that meant he could create stand-alone magic in a way that Illustrious couldn’t.
Lights were actually easier, but the lessons with Larexa had focused on shield creation, and Bavil had been to multiple of those. Sure, he’d just been an observer for those parts, but they’d talked a lot about shields and the effort it took to raise them.
A look of intense concentration settled over Bavil’s face, his gaze narrowed on the bundle of cloth. As Tor watched, a small shield flickered and began to take shape around the blankets, wide and low. It wavered and then disappeared.
Bavil was gaping at where the shield had been like he’d never seen one before, which certainly wouldn’t have helped with his concentration. But those brief seconds had been all they needed. Yes, it had been brief, but it had been distinctly separate from Bavil, and no Illustrious could do that.
The hiss of the flames in the fire pit was the only sound. Everyone seemed frozen in the wake of the display and its implications.
Tor spoke into the silence. “Given your increase in magic, Bavil, I believe your suspicions are correct, and your father is dead.”
They just needed to find his body and figure out why. In the midst of everything else that had happened in the last few weeks, it seemed awfully suspicious.
Or maybe Tor was just seeing everything through a doubtful lens given what he’d been through.
There was another long moment of silence, like they were all digesting this, and then Tama spoke.
“So you’re now the King of Tond?”
All heads swung round to Bavil. He grimaced.
“Not yet? I mean, maybe?” He looked more than a little flustered. “There’s no body, and we have no idea what’s happened. I don’t think anyone’s going to simply accept me slapping a crown on my head.”
Tor made a face. Yeah, no, that sounded like a terrible idea—if for no other reason than because if it somehow turned out that Forex wasn’t dead, he would never forgive his son for declaring himself king in his absence.
“Then what happens?” Tama demanded.
Bavil looked at Tor, who shrugged.
“Well, I guess you’d need to petition my brother.
Varex would make a provisional declaration, probably institute a realms-wide search, and there’d likely be a waiting period.
If the body was found, it would make everything simpler.
Without it, I imagine that you would be Prince Regent for a longer period, or something to that effect. ”
“But you’re now the one making the decisions?” Tama pursued doggedly, her expression intent.
“Yes,” Bavil confirmed, looking an almost comical mixture of surprised and determined. “At least until the High King tells me not to. Father put me in charge while he’s gone, so that should hold, at least, until everything else is straightened out.”
Tama drew in a deep breath and let it out in a short rush. She squared her shoulders, tension suddenly bristling in every line of her body.
The words practically burst out of her, vibrating with intensity.
“I need to bring someone to meet you. I mean, I need to go ask. But I think it makes sense. If this means we can actually have a conversation with Tond for the first time in more than twenty-five years, I think that would be beneficial for everyone.”
Bavil looked surprised, but after a moment, he nodded. “I’d be happy to enter into discussions with you, you know that. But I can’t absolutely guarantee that anything I say won’t be overturned by the High King—or my father, should this turn out to be a huge misunderstanding.”
“I understand,” Tama said with a sharp nod.
It was clear she’d screwed herself up to a point of resolution.
Opening talks with Tond could have implications for the entirety of the United Realms—but it was equally true that things couldn’t continue on as they were.
And the rest of the United Realms wasn’t bearing the burden of the raiding and whatever else was going on here.
Tor would be happy to explain all of that to his brother—if only it wouldn’t get him thrown into the dungeon again. Honestly, getting involved with anything to do with the exiles was probably the most foolish thing Tor could possibly do right now… but he was going to do it anyway.
These people needed help, Bavil was willing to listen, and it sounded like Tama was going to try to bring someone with decision-making authority to meet Bavil, or at least that was Tor’s best guess.
They couldn’t ignore this stellar opportunity just because Varex might think that Tor was committing treason again.