It was why peace was so important. It was why Tor wanted to teach Larexa to defend herself. Just in case.
Tor cleared his throat. “The good thing is that it’s actually a very clear signal. If you start seeing pink instead of bright white, you know it’s time to take a break. You’re not somehow going to overexert yourself without realizing. It’s perfectly safe.”
Larexa squared her shoulders and nodded her head, her gaze narrowed and determined.
She tried again and again, and finally, she managed to erect a small shield around the cup.
Tor praised her for the effort, and she looked extremely proud of herself—at which point he gave the shield a solid kick, and it collapsed as though it had never been. Larexa wavered back a step, but she didn’t fall. Pel caught her arm like he couldn’t help himself, then released it and stepped back.
Smiling at her, Tor said, “The first step is creating the shield. The next step is maintaining it. It stands alone, but it’s also part of you.”
Larexa blew out a breath. “I had no idea this was so complicated.”
“Ready to try again?” Tor asked.
Larexa nodded resolutely.
The rain continued, Bavil was still out on patrol, and over the next two weeks, Tor and Larexa had lessons every day or two—both shieldsandmusic, because Larexa was holding him to his bargain.
He described it as pure torture, and she laughed at him and told him not to be a baby.
Hearing himself laboriously plunk out something that she told him was a scale filled him with the need to be doing something—anything—else.
“But it’s exactly the same with the shield!” she told him with exasperation. “You’ve been doing it since you were fourteen. I started playing the piano when I was four. But we can still learn one another’s skills with practice and hard work!”
“But the shield is practical! I think I’m learning this just to torture all those around me.”
Pel, who came to listen sometimes, agreed that it was the most terrible racket he’d ever heard.
Larexa’s mouth tightened. “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all!”
Predictably, this made Pel stalk off.
Face falling, Larexa looked at Tor. “Sorry.”
Tor just shook his head. “It’s fine.”
Tor had no issue with Pel hanging around and telling the truth, but Larexa seemed to be concerned that it would affect his morale.
Tor had no illusions when it came to his musical prowess.
It was worth it to get Larexa protected, though, and Tor still got to spend his mornings with Pel.
One day, on their way back from the farms, even more water-logged than usual, Pel asked Tor, “You don’t really think that Larexa’s going to need to use a shield, do you?”
“I certainly hope not. But I would so much rather that she have the knowledge and never need to use it than need to use it but lack the knowledge.”
Pel was silent for a moment, but then he nodded and agreed, “Yes, that’s true.”
Back in the stables, they saw to their horses, and Tor found himself distracted by the way several stray droplets of water slid down Pel’s face. Their cloaks might be good, but the rain was better. The farmers were all telling them that it was too much of a good thing.
Was it weird that Tor wanted to lick the rain off Pel’s face? It was probablynotgreat friend behavior.
Melody squashed him into the side of the stall with an impatient snort of annoyance, and Tor laughed and went back to grooming him. Trust his horse not to care if he was having entirely inappropriate thoughts.
Training was going well, but Tor waited until Larexa was much more comfortable raising the shield and keeping it up before he showed her what could happen if a strong shield collapsedonthe object that was inside it rather than just dissipating.
Larexa went white-faced, and even Pel looked a little pale as he stared at the pulverized remains of the cup.
