Page 89 of The Prince's Sacrifice

He wouldn’t normally set a shield this close to someone, and he simply wasn’t going to think about the fact that he was attaching it to Pamuna instead of the ground while Pamuna would be moving away from him.

Whatever. It was fine. He liked a challenge. He’d thought he was going to die on that mountain, but it appeared his goddess had a different fate in store for him. She’d brought him here for a reason, and he was fully on board with it.

The door shuddered with more blows in rapid succession, and Tor feared this meant the attackers had won in the corridor.

But the baby was snuggled up in her sling, and even if Tor had made a series of terrible decisions, he was certain he was making some good ones, too. Maybe it was all happening exactly the way it was supposed to. If Pel hadn’t walked out, he might be in this room with Tor right now. Or he might have been killed in the dungeon as collateral damage. If Rin wasn’t in Vayrin trying to avert a war, the same.

Tor didn’t want this to be his last stand, but if he could keep those he loved safe because of it, it would be worth it.

“Let’s wrap her up,” Tor said.

They managed to pull a blanket around Pamuna sort of like it was a cloak and pin it closed with diaper pins, of all things. It looked a little weird, but it was clearly a weird night. With luck, no one would look too closely.

It was the best they could do.

The door shuddered again, and they were spurred into action. Tor attached his magic to the window, then tied it securely around Pamuna, looping it around her so that there was no risk of her falling. Forming the magic now felt like it had in the mountains, pulling on something that wasn’t supposed to be pulled, but Tor persevered.

She still looked terrified, and Tor couldn’t really blame her.

“Your magic,” she whispered.

“Enough to get you out the window,” he assured her with every ounce of conviction he had. “You just get Cala to her father.”

“I will. I promise.” She darted in suddenly and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

He smiled at her. “You don’t have to thank me for this.”

There was no way Tor wouldn’t act to protect Cala. And maybe he could have left with them. Maybe they could have escaped in time. But he couldn’t risk it, not when he didn’t know how many foes they were facing or how quickly they would react to the Princess not being in the nursery.

Pamuna got one leg over the windowsill, then the other. There was something like stark terror in her eyes.

“It’s going to be totally fine,” Tor kept his voice low and reassuring, glad she couldn’t sense the wild hammering of his heart. “I’m going to lower you down, then I’m going to swing you, and you’re going to climb in the window. It’s already open, because it’s the one I came out. Right?”

She gulped. “Right.”

There was a splintering sound behind Tor.

“Time to go.”

He lowered her carefully, holding onto her physically as long as he could and then holding onto his rope of pure magic. He’d never tried to swing a woman with a baby to a window before, and if it wasn’t likely to become a moot point soon, he’d definitely want to practice. The first swing didn’t go far enough, and on the second, he realized his mistake. He corrected and hauled up the rope a little so that Pamuna’s feet were level with the bottom of the window instead of her hands. On the fourth try, Pamuna managed to catch hold of the window frame, crouch, and climb into the room. She raised her hand, and then she was gone.

Tor let the magic dissolve, a tiny lessening of a load he wasn’t sure his body could bear. The blood was rushing in his ears. He could feel the strain from the shield that was moving away from him, but he had to maintain it, so that’s all there was to that.

He closed the window and turned to face the door, putting himself protectively in front of the cradle and waited.

He was barely in time. The door exploded inward, the sheer force shoving the wardrobe out of the way. Guards spilled into the room, although Tor realized after a moment that their uniforms weren’t quite right, colors slightly off, some only in dark clothing. Mercenaries dressed as guards?

No part of this was good.

Well, except for the part where they stumbled to a halt looking thoroughly confused when they saw him.

Tor grinned. “You called for me? Well, here I am.”

They gaped at him, and he grinned even wider.

For a moment, it was a stand-off, and then one of them snarled, “Get the babe. And the Prince!”

They rushed him, and he felt a surge of gratitude for the defense he’d done with Pel where he hadn’t used any magic.He’d thought about it as training for Pel, but he stood very much corrected.