“We should have ridden through the night,” Tamas said. He stifled a yawn. “I left at too crucial a time.”
Taniel shifted from one leg to the other. “Sorry to be such an inconvenience.”
“I didn’t…” Tamas turned toward his son, suppressing a frustrated sigh. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just, the battle. It was a terrible risk to leave it in others’ hands.”
“You didn’t need to come for me.”
“Well, I know that now.” Tamas chuckled. Even to him it sounded forced. “I should have just left the whole thing to Bo and stayed at the front.”
“Indecision isn’t becoming of you.” Taniel kicked a rock into the river.
Tamas wished he knew what to say. He’d never been a spectacular father, he knew that. But even he could tell that something had changed about Taniel. Something Tamas couldn’t quite put his finger on. He could sense the sorcery clinging to him without even opening his third eye, though it was subtle stuff. Supposedly the work of that savage witch Taniel was so fond of. Tamas had his fair share of questions about that girl.
“Bo’s not a threat to you anymore,” Taniel said. “You don’t have to keep him tied up, under guard. Give him back his gloves.”
Tamas rubbed at his temples. “It’s just until we get back.”
“If we get back,” Taniel said, “and we need Bo’s help against the Kez – which we will get. A little trust will go a long way.”
“I’m short on trust right now,” Tamas said. He rubbed at the wound that was itching beneath his coat. Only the constant buzz of a powder trance kept the pain away, and only just barely.
“Hilanska,” Taniel said.
Tamas cleared his throat to cover his surprise. “How did you know?”
“When Kresimir captured me, he had Hilanska confirm my identity. I know he was the one who sent those bastards.” He jerked his chin toward the makeshift stockade in the center of the camp that contained around a hundred and fifty of Hilanska’s men.
Tamas considered it for a moment, then unbuttoned his jacket. He lifted his shirt, exposing his flesh to the chill of the night. “Stabbed me right between the ribs.”
“Looks bad.” Taniel inspected the wound from a respectful distance, aware how much his father’s vulnerability meant to him.
“I’m lucky. It was a clean wound. Missed anything important.” He let his shirt fall and slowly buttoned up his jacket.
“You need a Privileged to look at it.”
“The Deliv king has a few healers with him. I’ll get it taken care of when he arrives. It won’t kill me before then. Hilanska. That bloody bastard. We’ve been friends for decades. He was a groomsman at my wedding. Was privy to all my plans with the coup.”
“That’s the wound that won’t heal,” Taniel said quietly.
Tamas didn’t trust himself to say anything else, but allowed a nod. When they’d stood for several more minutes, Tamas said, “I could use Mihali. Hah. I can’t believe I just said that. Madman chef-god. I don’t bloody well know what I’m going to do without him.” Tamas felt moisture in the corner of his eyes. They must have been watering from the cold breeze.
“Mihali,” Taniel said. “He…”
“You met?” Tamas supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Mihali had his fingers in every pie.
“Yes. He said that I was different now. Thanks in part to Ka-poel’s sorcery and in part to my contact with Kresimir.”
Tamas remained silent. If Taniel was going to talk, he was going to do it on his own. No amount of prompting would get it out of him.
A few more moments passed, and Taniel said, “Mihali thinks I’m like Julene now. Or at least the powder mage equivalent of a Predeii.”
Tamas ground his teeth at the mention of Julene. So many traitors. So much betrayal. How could Taniel be anything like her? “You can’t take anything Mihali said seriously.”
“I think he’s right,” Taniel said. “I barely ate anything up on that mountain, but I wasn’t very hungry. I didn’t have any powder, but I could still see details at a hundred yards – nothing like with the powder, but my night vision and hearing and smell are all better than they were.” He looked at Tamas and his eyes were suddenly red. “I tore the jaw off of a man. Without any powder! I tore out a Warden’s rib and killed him with it. Well, that time I did have powder.”
“Pit,” Tamas breathed.
Taniel snorted. “I know. I’m damn hard to kill, too. I still bleed, but I’m stronger, faster. Kresimir ordered his men to break my arm. They couldn’t. I’ve changed, Dad, and it’s terrifying. And Mihali is dead and Ka-poel can’t speak, so I can’t learn what is happening to me.” Taniel stared down at his hands. His voice was raw.
“Taniel,” Tamas said. He gripped Taniel’s arm in one hand. “Listen to me. Whatever it is that’s happening to you, you’ll survive it. You’re a fighter.” You’re my son, he added silently.
“But what if it’s not worth surviving?”
For a moment Taniel wasn’t a man but the frightened boy Tamas had held after Erika’s death. Tamas grabbed Taniel’s shoulders and roughly pulled him into an embrace. “It’s always worth surviving, son.”
They remained that way for several minutes. Finally, Taniel pulled away and wiped his sleeve across his nose. Tamas let out a shaky breath and hoped Taniel didn’t see his own tears.
“Dad.”
“Yes?”
“I shot Kresimir in the eye. And then, when he caught me at the old fortress, I punched him in the face.”
Tamas stared at his son for a moment, shocked by the absurdity of it all. It started as a twitch deep in his stomach, then he threw back his head and roared with laughter. Taniel joined him a moment later, and they laughed until the tears streamed down their faces and Tamas forced himself to stop because his wound hurt so badly. When they regained their composure, they stared at each other for some time.
“I’m sorry for what I’ve been,” Tamas said. The words hurt to leave him, yet he simultaneously felt a great weight lifted. He watched the side of Taniel’s face for some kind of response, but Taniel was suddenly guarded. He turned and Tamas was afraid he’d walk away.
“You have a lot of children,” Taniel said, indicating the camp with a wave of his arm. “All your soldiers.”
“Only one of them matters.”
“They all matter. Dad, can you do me a favor?”
“Of course.”
“Forgive Vlora.”
Tamas raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t known what to expect, but that wasn’t it. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the scar from the bullet that had grazed his skull at the Battle at Kresimir’s Fingers. “That might take me a little while.”
“Just try.”
“I will.”
“Thanks. And Dad? Ka-poel is carrying around the effigy of Kresimir on her back. She’s the only thing keeping him from killing all of us.”
“She’s what?”
“And there’s something else.” Taniel drew a shaky breath. “I’m in love with her.”
Tamas snuck into the main Adran army camp a day later like a man who’d lost the keys to his own front door.
It wasn’t a grand entrance, he reflected, as Olem showed a set of orders to a sentry and Tamas kept the brim of his hat down over his face, hiding behind the lapels of his overcoat. But Tamas didn’t need a grand entrance. He needed quite the opposite.
The sentry looked over the paper for a moment, squinting to read it in the pale morning light, her lips moving silently. They were orders that Tamas himself had written, with his own signature at the bottom. When she finished, she handed the paper back to Olem and glanced suspiciously at Tamas. “Looks like everything is in order,” she said, waving them past.
Tamas gave a small sigh as they headed into the camp and lost themselves among the tents to throw off any suspicious guards that may have followed. He would have wanted his men to do a more thorough search of strangers – they were trained not to put up with any of this cloak-and-dagger bullshit that officers from the nobility had always seemed to like. But on the other hand, Tamas was glad to get in without being questioned further.