Page 65 of Petals for Deadly Power

“You can’t Give wind just like that. It’s nature. You’ll burn out,” Ayla said.

If only Hope had an inner scale to take into consideration. Lifting her hands, her fists closed ready to Give, she looked at the sea around them, at the sky, the clouds, the breeze against the waves. Ciaran walked behind her, his back against hers, and she felt him lift his hands as well.

Hope inhaled deeply, the powers she was gathering from the red panom mark at the back of her neck tickling, fueling what she was about to unleash.

“It’s not me you have to worry about,” she said.

And then, air currents gained a new meaning.

As if the world had been waiting for her to concentrate her magic on the force of the air, the wind answered her call, allowing the navia to move as fast as the courtrades did with their shadows at night, if not more. Behind her, Ciaran’s dark green sparks illuminated his fingers, occasional shadows interlacing with his panom magic. Stevian and Nyraxa did not relax either.

And just like that, the navia moved and moved and moved. When the time Giving had to be close to an hour, her arms ached from keeping them straightened in front of her for such a prolonged period of time. Not that that was any acceptable excuse to stop. What was a bit of sore arms when Lenna was not fully alive? What the Cardinals’ Fifth hell didnot fully aliveeven mean?

Her arms did not concern her, but Ciaran’s body against her back felt cold as ice. Even with his body temperature usually low, he now feltdangerouslycold. Was this the way his inner balance was uneven?

“Ciaran,” she said. “Don’t push it.”

“Pushing it is precisely what I want to do.”

“You know what I meant.” Against his lack of response, she exhaled exasperatedly and added, “Not the navia—yourself.”

“I said I’m with you, and I’ll be until we reach them. I’m not going to leave all the fun to you.”

Hope chuckled. “Right, because freezing to death is fun. Such a courtrade thing to say.”

“Breaking the laws of magic and nature with you is fun. Even if it includes freezing to death.”

“Right. Much more reasonable. Will you be able to Heal Lenna when we get there? Because out of all of us, the panom with the most expertise in that field is you. It was proven quite recently, you shall not forget.”

Of course, Indianna and Nina also knew non-magical healing, and Hope had zero doubts they had been packing their supplies and remedies since Jake’s ink had arrived, preparing for whatever emergency the situation required, very likely with the help of Ayla as well, who left the deck when they started commanding the wind. With Stevian and Nyraxa and their shadows somewhere at the opposite end of the navia, here there were just Ciaran and Hope and their magic.

His deep inhale followed. “Forget shall I never.”

It was impossible to guess how much longer they needed to reach their navia, how far they were, how long Lenna had to wait, what Jake was doing to keep her from going to the only state that could follow beingnot fully alive. The only state that had to be avoided.

“My permanent inks,” Ciaran said from behind her, his voice getting lost as he spoke towards the sea.

Hope’s eyebrows raised, her back straightening and making even more contact with his own. “Yes?”

“You asked about them.”

“And you didn’t answer.”

“I can answer now.”

Hope opened her mouth, her jaw dropping. “Now? Of all moments? When I cannot even see you and can barely hear you? Not to mention this half-hurricane we have in our hands.” The one that swallowed and pushed the navia through the world.

Ciaran turned swiftly and Hope gasped. His chest was breathtakingly in front of hers, his extended, Giving hands above Hope’s shoulders. Her arms found a new home on the sides of his very terse, very muscular chest.

A wind-Giving embrace.

“Now, of all moments, Hope, I have to tell you.” His low voice finally reached her fully, the short distance between his mouth and hers dangerous and painful, the way his blue eyes and her black ones met as powerful as their magic.

It was only because she had been Giving for over an hour without stopping that her mind switched to a sort of autopilot magic, enabling her to focus on him, his words, his mouth, his voice. She aimed for, “I’m all ears,” but her traitorous subconscious opted for, “I’m all yours.”

Ciaran’s throat bobbed, his arms bending slightly as if he wanted to relax them and caress her.

“Each time I stopped believing you would come, Llunal sent me an ink. Every permanent ink on my arm, on my chest . . . Every ink is made of shadows. They're made of you.”

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