Page 89 of The Prince's Fealty

He grimaced as he thought of his brother up in the Tondian mountains, his shield the only thing between a landslide and the certain death of thousands of people around him. Had he felt desperation like this, certainty that his own magical strength wasn’t up to the task but futilely trying anyway?

Var castigated himself again. Why hadn’t helistened? How had he let Yomil and his own fears drive such a wedge between them? If Var had a way now to access more magic? If there was something risky he could do that would ensure they all came out of this alive?

Of course Tor had tried to save everyone. Of course he’d made the right choice.

If only Var could turn back time, there was so much he would do differently.

Instead, he was trapped in a shield underwater, desperately trying to brace against a barrage of attacks, both here and on the shields surrounding his family, a growing ache in his chest that he had to constantly push magic at, to keep those shields strong.

Please protect Cala and Ferna and Ada. Please keep them alive.

How many people were helping Nostex? How many people believed in his cause? Var was strong, but he couldn’t keep this up forever. Shields weren’t meant to be kept up indefinitely, certainly not ones that were so far away from him. He was doing it becausehe’d poured all his need and desperation into the endeavor, but it wasn’t his magic’s natural state.

And when he tapped into the Fealty, he put everyone who was pledged to him at risk.

Yes, it was a defensive tool, and Var could call on more than his own magic to protect people. But he couldn’tkeepcalling on it, not unrelentingly, or he’d be no better than the rulers during the war who’d burned out their own citizens. He’d put Ferna at risk because of his bond with her.

All of this was to protect his wife, to protect his child and his sister and the entirety of the United Realms!

So he couldn’t pull too much, and he couldn’t pull too fast, because the Fealty was tiny threads of magic connecting him to everyone else in the United Realms. If he pulled too much, he’d yank out those threads. If he pulled too much, the other rulers might figure out what was happening and revoke their own Fealty to protect their people.

It was understandable, really. Var wouldn’t blame them, as they’d be doing their duty by their people—but the results could be catastrophic. If he didn’t maintain his shields against these unrelenting assaults, then everyone else was going to lose anyway.

He wasn’t deluding himself at this point. If Nostex got the Fealty of the United Realms, there was no way he’d leave rivals on the field. After all, he’d risen up against Var and shown people it could be done. No, he’d go after every ruler, and once he reigned supreme over everyone, he’d rule with an iron hand.

Var’s chest went tight at the thought. It was why his mother had united the realms instead of annexing them all and declaring it all Alossa. She’d believed in the importance of independence amidst unity, of more than one ruler to carry the load.

And probably, he realized belatedly now, to prevent exactly this, to prevent one person from having so much power they were unstoppable.

Var tried to practice his deep breathing and remind himself that Nostex hadn’t won yet. All Var needed to do was get through the next minute. He just needed to stay strong and maintain his shields right this moment.

And then keep that moment going for as long as was required.

Until he couldn’t do it anymore, and everyone lost because he was a terrible judge of character.

It slowly dawned on him that it didn’t feel quite as difficult to maintain the shield around himself. Was he getting used to the strain? Had his subconscious worked out a way to make this part easier for him so that he could concentrate on his family?

He prayed that was so. His family needed every bit of magic he could give them.

He missed Tor with a fierce ache. He’d been missing his brother for years, but he’d been busy, and he’d let his pride get in the way. He’d thought he had all the time in the world, and it was only now that it was too late that he saw those thoughts for the excuses they were.

He hadn’t tried when he should have, and now his brother was dead, and Var was fighting for the lives of everyone else in his family. He’d fight for them with every breath in his body—but he couldn’t actually win through sheer force of will. He was fast coming to the point where he was going to have to pick between his family and his people, knowing that both ways led to disaster.

It could have been six hours or six years later when for the first time, there was a sign of interruption above the water. Var had worked out that there were different people attacking him, as they had different rhythms and strengths. He’d been able to guess at what he thought might be shift changes, when the pattern shifted, but he’d still been constantly attacked.

Until now, when the relentless bombardment suddenly faltered. Var flinched as something fell into the water to his right. Then another. And another. And another.

No one was attacking his shield, he realized suddenly. And as he strained to think about it, he realized his other shields weren’t being attacked, either. The drain to maintain them had grown heavier, but there weren’t the spikes he would expect for an active attack. What was going on?

He startled badly but managed to hang on to his shields as the heavy metal spikes were suddenly pulled away. He watched it lift until he couldn’t see it anymore, lost to the dark water outside his shield.

For a long time, he just sat there, panting and straining to see into a darkness that didn’t become clearer. He could vaguely see shadowy figures, but not enough to understand what was happening.

Had his attackers decided to change tactics? If he left his shield to swim, would they drop those spikes on him? Could he raise his shield again quickly enough?

He didn’t know what to do.

There was the sound of another splash, and then something appeared in front of his shield. Var just barely managed not to lash out—his magic was at a premium at the moment—as he realized that he wasn’t being attacked.