Smiling at him, Tor assured him, “I’m totally ready to do this.”
Pel was still scanning his face. “Are you really sure?”
Tor nodded. “Absolutely. Would you believe it’s not actually the first time someone’s shot an arrow at me?”
They’d already talked about this, because Pel would never have agreed to it if Tor hadn’t proved it was part of his training, but as Tor had intended, Pel smirked, the tension melting out of his shoulders. “That sounds like something that would happen to you.”
Tor tried to pout. “Hey.”
But Pel was still grinning, and Tor was finding it impossible not to smile back.
“You’re clear on what to do?” Pel asked him, a little bit of anxiety already leaking back into his eyes.
“Not get hit by any arrows?” Tor proposed as seriously as he could.
Pel rolled his eyes and let out an aggravated huff of breath. “Yes, you’re clearly going to be fine because you’ve grasped the crucial detail that you shouldnot get hitby arrows.”
Tor loved when Pel teased him. Somehow, it always reassured him that Pel was seeing Tor instead of Prince Torex. Of course, he’d been rude to Prince Torex, too, but that just filled Tor with glee now. Tor would go so far as to say that it was one of his favorite things. But he was excited to see Pel in his element, even if it involved getting arrows shot at him. Or perhaps because it did.
Flashy. Showy. That was Tor. He could only imagine what Varex would have to say about this, but he was sure that Rin would be standing at his side.
Tor went out to stand in the field where everyone could see him. Temporary seating had been built, and everyone jostled into position on either side of the field so that they could see Tor and Pel clearly. The King, Bavil, and Larexa had the best seats, of course, with the clearest line of sight to Tor.
Tor tugged on his magic, letting it Mantle his skin until he knew the swirls of magic were visible. He’d promised Pel that even if he got a shot through, it wouldn’t harm Tor. But thepointwas for Tor to make sure the arrows didn’t get close enough to hit.
Pel slipped on his quiver, took his bow from a servant, and then walked back to the spot that had been marked seventy yards away. Arrows moved fast, and Pel had been categorically opposed to shooting from any closer to Tor. Tor could see concentration in every line of the man’s body, and he let the sound of the crowd around him fade away as he concentrated on watching Pel’s hands.
Almost before Tor could process, the first arrow was notched and then flying at Tor—who batted it out of the way with a small burst of magic.
Magic didn’t like to simply float in the air. It preferred to be affixed to something. Even avatars walked on the ground, and they were some of the most complex magic Extraordinary could use. But this was more like the start of a shield. It was a small, impenetrable bit of magic, but before it needed to affix somewhere to stay, Tor was pulling it back because it wasn’t needed anymore.
By that point, the next arrow was already winging towards him. Tor threw himself out of the way so that the arrow thumped harmlessly into the ground, and then he was batting the next several arrows out of the way with magic.
The sound swelled around them, gasps and cheers—both when it seemed like Pel was going to hit him and when Tor managed to evade him, which made Tor happy. Not that he had time to think much; he needed to react.
At one point, Tor actually kicked the arrow out of the way with a burst of magic, which he thought might be cheating.
There was a huge “ooh” of sound when he did that. He put it out of his mind. He was definitely getting a lot of exercise. He had a moment to gulp in some air as Pel received another quiver of arrows, and then Tor was back to using magic to bat more arrows out of the sky.
Pel was an extremely skilled archer, and Tor was maybe unreasonably aroused by someone who didn’t want to kiss him. He would continue to admire from a distance—which it was wiser to do anyway when the person in question had a bow and wasn’t hesitating to shoot arrows at him.
Tor was breathing hard but also felt weirdly like he could do this all day. Pel looked like it was a normal day for him. He moved, sometimes, but always made sure to stay the full seventy yards away from Tor, because Tor had assured him eighty-four times that he could stop an arrow from that distance.
Like he’d told Larexa, he’d been training with his magic for over twenty years, and not getting shot with arrows was legitimately one of the skills he’d practiced. Admittedly, the training hadn’t been with the idea that Tor wouldvolunteer, but he liked to think he had an especially creative mind about this sort of thing.
But if both of them could do this forever, what was going to happen? Eventually, they’d run out of quivers, right? Or people would get hungry and want to get home or—or Pel would shoot two arrows at him simultaneously, and then do it again in quick succession.
Tor blocked the head shot and the one to his torso, but he doubled over and went down as one of the arrows got him in the gut.
There was an explosion of noise, and a moment later, a panting Pel was on his knees beside Tor, batting at him frantically, trying to get to his middle.
“You fool! You told me you were shielding yourself! What have I done?”
Tor groaned. “You’ve won, of course.”
Pel was breathing hard and staring at him in incomprehension.
Tor held up the arrow. “I’m fine.”
