“It’s imperfect, of course,” Tor added. “You have to learn to maintain it, and the person inside is unlikely to just stand there and look annoyed.”
“Ass,” Pel mumbled, and Larexa looked like she was trying to hold back laughter.
“The more magical someone is, the better chance they’ll have of getting out. If they concentrate on one location, they may be able to break through, depending on their magical strength. But even if they do, you’ll have bought yourself time.”
“But if I’m standing right here when they get out, that won’t help,” Larexa argued.
Tor smiled at her. “Very true. But the benefit of being Extraordinary is that you don’t have to stand right here. The shield will weaken the farther away you get, and eventually it will fall away. But by then, you should be well on your way to safety. If it came down to it, you could trap them again. Though, hopefully, they’d have learned their lesson by that point.”
“I certainly hope so,” Larexa said, and she sounded altogether heartfelt.
“The stronger you are, the farther away you can get before your magic weakens,” Tor told her.
“How far away can you get?” Larexa wanted to know.
“I’m not actually sure,” Tor admitted.
The tests with Var when they were teens had shown they could separate the length of the entire throne room in Nexa, but Tor had never needed to test that particular facet of his abilities in earnest. He used the shield in lessons, had used it to separate fighting guards on occasion, and he’d used it to protect the guards in the infamous battle that had led to twelve guards dying because of his inability to read properly.
They’d been at peace for twenty-five years, and at no point had he been trying to escape and put distance between himself and whoever was shielded.
“Out of this room?” Larexa asked.
It was probably about the size of the throne room back in Nexa, and Tor was pretty sure he was stronger—or at least better trained—than he’d been as a teen. He opened his mouth to offer to test this theory when he saw the look in Pel’s eyes.
Ah. Tor wouldn’t want to be the one left behind, trapped somewhere he couldn’t get out of, either. (He and Var had experimented with shielding people they couldn’t see, because of course they had. The time that Tor had fallen asleep and left Var in a shield for hours had left Var pretty annoyed. Var finally breaking out had jolted Tor awake. Their experiments had suggested they didn’t get thirsty or hungry in the shield, but they’d never figured out if that worked long-term or if it worked on other people.)
“Probably,” Tor said casually, “but unfortunately for you, we’re not testing whatI’m capable of. Look at the shield more closely if you want, because then we’re going to see what you can do.”
Larexa approached it cautiously, eventually raising her hand and touching it. Tor knew from experience that it had a faint give at first, but the harder you pressed, the clearer it became that it was stronger than any other substance.
If Larexa had never summoned an avatar, then it was possible she’d never encountered a purely magical shield, either.
She spread her hands over it. “It’s warm.”
It didn’t give off heat, as such, which was a shame when you were on a patrol in the winter, but it was almost like it retained the heat of the body from which it had manifested. It wasn’t quite a living thing, but Tor didn’t think it felt altogether inanimate, either. Mantling his whole body in it if he was heading into battle seemed to offer a little bit of protection from the elements in addition to its protection from weapons.
“Although it’s not touching me, it’s still a part of me,” Tor said. “Just like if you Mantled a sword or shield—or lit a crystal lamp.”
Larexa nodded, her expression thoughtful. She seemed happier with every non-violent example.
“It takes effort to maintain the shield,” Tor went on, “and it takes more effort the farther away you are from it, like you’re straining a connection. An equally strong magical attack will break it, but even a weaker magical attack can weaken it over time, as can a strong, repeated non-magical attack. Most people who are strongly magical rely heavily on their magic, and they sometimes forget about the drawbacks. That’s why I’d like to show you both standard blocking, which your brother is an expert at, and also these magical options so that you have something that should suit just about any situation.”
Larexa was eyeing the shield that Tor had created. “So I could get Pel out?”
“In theory, you could, if you knew what you were doing,” Tor agreed. “But I have the advantage.”
Staring fiercely at the shield, Larexa said, “One area. Weaken one spot and bring the whole thing down. That’s what you said.”
“True,” Tor agreed. “And I like that light in your eye, but we’ll practice on an empty one. We’re not trying something that could rebound on your brother.”
Larexa shot him a look. “Admitting that I’m as strong as you after all?”
Tor huffed an amused breath but just pulled his magic back, allowing it to flow back inside of him so that the shield was suddenly gone, and Pel was left standing there free once more.
“Thanks for that,” he said dryly, body language relaxing.
“First thing’s first,” Tor said, clapping his hands together. “Do you think you can create a shield like that?” He picked up the cup that he’d brought with him and set it down on the floor in front of Larexa. “If so, try to put a shield around this.”
