Page 9 of Petals for Deadly Power

“The sooner we get the Fifth, the sooner we get him.” The determination in Hope’s voice was undeniable.

“Jake and I will discuss our findings about the Fifth. Let’s see if our theories align,” Ciaran said, looking at Hope. “When we have a clear plan, we will move.”

5

Hope

Thesteadybangingmusicat the Sweetgum Beech kept the girls busy dancing and drinking myster.The girlsbeing the regular night dancers: Lenna, Indianna, and Sasha.

Of the nocturnal shows in the busiest square of Corentre, Hope’s favorite part was the colored water fountains surrounding whoever was performing.

The height of the safehouse was a privileged spot to enjoy these concerts. The girls were now jumping in a close circle, shouting some lyrics at the top of their throats while pointing to the red-tinged moon in the sky.

Hope chuckled from the rail of the balcony. Her head didn’t pound as hard as the first time she had heard such loud music. It wasn’t bad at all, in fact.

As for dancing, she doubted she would ever be relaxed enough to move her body at ease for any reason that wasn’t fighting. It was amusing to see other beings living it so much.

The song finished its high, and the girls had a laughing fit as they hugged each other in a tangle of arms and heads.

Lenna filled a glass with myster and walked next to Hope, offering it to her with the confident grin of someone who wasn’t used to being refused, or who didn’t mind being refused.

“They didn’t take long to fix the Cardinals Temple, did they?” Lenna snorted, looking at the crystal dome crowning the Organ House in the middle of Corentre. The dome Hope had unintentionally destroyed in a thousand pieces during her Fifth Ceremony.

“I guess more panoms-to-be will need their ceremonies, and it cannot be good for the Organ House’s reputation.”

Lenna shook her head. “As much as it pains me to admit, I think I love this city.” Her mass of red waves flew to the side as Lenna snapped her head to look at Hope. The golden tone of her eyes was unnervingly similar to that of her golden magic sparks and her ink. “Have you ever been in love, Hope?”

Hope’s eyebrows shot up, a knot automatically sitting in her chest as if she had received a kick between her lungs.

How to tell a woman who probably was in love with Jake that love was a trap, and one of the most dangerous ones?

“I haven’t, and I don’t want to. I don’t need to. Love can kill and drown.” The knot tightened at some very vivid memories of her childhood. Love had certainly drowned her mother.

Lenna narrowed her eyes. “Love can uplift and heal, too. It can transform.”

“There are other ways to do those things that don’t involve putting one’s heart at risk of utter destruction,” Hope said.

She respected Lenna’s opinions, but she was not going to change her mind. Not when her mother’s love had killed her, and Hope had been a witness.

“Are you in love, Lenna?”

The red-haired woman took her time drinking some myster before answering. “I would kill anybody who would harm Jake in any way. I would kill him when he makes my blood boil for all the wrong reasons.” Lenna bit her bottom lip before saying, “I feel safe with him as I have never felt. I want to know him more and I am afraid of not having enough days to do so, even with our never-ending long panom lifespans.”

“Do you trust him?” Hope asked.

Lenna’s lips tightened in a thin line. “I have come to the conclusion that I will never fully trust anyone. Which is very sad, but . . . It’s true. There is always a part of me holding back. A part of me expecting abandonment, betrayal or lies. As if not giving my full trust is the only way to protect myself from being hurt. I don’t think I even know how to fully trust someone, because I have never done so. Jake is no exception to this.”

Lenna exhaled deeply. Her eyes had a glassy look when she turned to face Hope. “Please don’t tell your brother,” she begged, her voice low as if she was ashamed of herself and what she had just admitted out loud.

“I won’t,” Hope promised.

It was way past ante meridiem, and Hope couldn’t sleep.

The inner constant trail of questions and need for information was threatening to outburst her mind. She had lived with unanswered questions for decades, yet now that answers were a thing, she didn’t seem to know how to wait.

Maybe that was a good thing. A sign that life didn’t have to be a continuous mystery that slapped her face when she least expected it, even if it made her more impatient.

There was only one person who she dared talk to about her current worry. One person who could understand what she was talking about and not judge her for it.

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