Page 78 of The Exile's Curse

He sent his power down, through the rock. The ley lines here were deep. He found one and pulled magic as hard as he dared, watching Chloe.

There was a sudden flare of color around her, brilliant sparks of gold that nearly blinded him. She reached for his other hand and wound her fingers through his.

"Now," she said. "Let me in."

Her eyes were wide, the pupils dark as they had been above him and beneath him and beside him in her bed. Her magic engulfed him, and something within him leaped toward it, willing to take whatever part of her she might offer him. He was dimly aware that she was saying something as magic spiraled around him and through him, unlike anything he'd felt before, surging like a forest blaze for a moment, like the rush of sex, before it quieted to another shower of sparks and then settled to a glow that surrounded both of them.

A sound like a faint chime of bells sang through the air. "Do you hear something?" he said.

Chloe was staring at him, eyes even wider, but her cheeks were flushed, and she looked far more alert than she had a few minutes ago.

"The magic," she said absently. Then her mouth dropped open. "You hear that? But you don't hear magic, do you?"

"No." He shook his head, the song distracting him. "I see sparks."

She laughed then, a gurgle of pleased satisfaction. "I think it worked."

Relief swept through him. They were going to survive. She would be safe.

"Good," he managed. "Then we should get to work getting you patched up."

Chapter 23

Chloe watched Lucien in the firelight as he reached for the bloodied bandage. The surge of shared power had left her giddy and somewhat breathless. Enough to make her forget for a moment how much her arm hurt. But now that the initial rush was fading, the ache was pushing back.

Lucien glowed, brighter than usual. If she kept using her mage sight to watch him, she wouldn't need the firelight. He'd always been loud to her, the song of his magic insistent if she let it steal her focus. Not quite this bright though.

Dazzling. Not just the glow around him but the sense of his power rolling through her. Tangible, even if she closed her eyes. With them open, a cord of light linked the two of them and offered that power to her. She tugged at it gently, just to experiment, and was rewarded with a rush of magic. Not quite the same as tapping a ley line, though more focused. Regardless, it was enough to strengthen her, a buzz of energy she sorely needed filling her veins.

But she couldn't drain him. No. She needed his strength to keep them warm through the night. So she would use his power to do the minimum to heal her arm, the slash marring one of his cheeks that he hadn’t even acknowledged, and save the rest for the warming charm. The other aches and bruises making themselves known would have to wait. The healers at the palace could take care of those.

She shifted in place, wincing. A sharp pain in her side made her suspect she had cracked a rib. But it could just be bruising. There was no reason for her to be doing anything in the next twelve hours before daylight that should stress a minor crack further. It would be uncomfortable, but she could manage. At least she was no longer cold. The rush of magic had chased away the chill that the fire had barely lifted.

She turned her attention to her arm. The cut was jagged and deeper near her elbow. A thin trickle of blood still welled to the surface. Hopefully she could stop that and boost her body's will to heal now that she had power to burn. A distracting amount. If Lucien walked around with as much power as she was sensing through the bond all the time, she had no idea how he focused minute to minute.

But she would focus now. Closing her eyes, she tugged on the bond, drawing a thread of power, trying to feel the injury. Feel the path of the blood in her veins and where that path was broken. A true healer would perhaps be able to heal the wound entirely, but she lacked the training. Even if she had the necessary skill, performing that level of magic on herself would be risky.

So, stop the bleeding, send the suggestion of healing through her flesh, and that would hold her until morning.

It didn't take long.

Opening her eyes, she flexed her hand gingerly. The ache was still there, but dull and distant. As long as she didn't do anything too vigorous, it would be bearable until they could get back to the palace. Where, between the Andalyssian healers and the earth witches on the mission, the job could be finished. Hopefully without a scar. Otherwise, she might have to cover it with a tattoo.

The thought drew a soft giggle to her lips. The rush of power had left her giddy again. Almost as though she'd downed the rest of the kafiet Lucien had poured away.

"How does it feel?" Lucien asked.

"Well enough," she said. "You can bandage it again."

"Good." He set to work doing just that, mouth turned down in concentration. Did that mean he didn’t feel as power-addled as she did? Maybe not, if he was used to having so much magic at his command all the time. But she was no slouch at magic either. Or at least she hadn't been. Maybe it was because she was still out of practice that it felt so strong. Or maybe the added weight of his illusion talent had thrown her off-kilter. Still, she didn't need to use much magic to close the cut on his face or start a warming charm. "Your cheek. Let me deal with that."

Lucien touched his face but shook his head. “No. It’s fine. Don’t waste your power."

She doubted it would do any good to argue. "Then I should start on the warming charm."

That earned her another headshake. "We have enough wood to last a little longer. Rest a little."

"I feel fine," she protested. Stretching the truth somewhat, but he didn't need to know that. "I don't need to exert much effort to dry the cloaks. You can bring them over to me. Better to do it now, in case the bond doesn't hold." It seemed unlikely, but she was swimming out of her depth with the augmentier. A small miracle it had worked at all.

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