Page 13 of Petals for Deadly Power

“Rule Thyria.”

Lenna's eyes widened and the look she gave Hope made her hear her thoughts out loud. Lenna thought Hope had lost her mind. The tinge of worry in her frown might have been a sign that the red-haired thought Hope’s brain damage would be irreversible.

Hope continued before the red-haired woman could add any ironic retort. “You know how things work here well enough to fight against the injustices of the system and speak up for the voices of the beings that panoms don't want to hear.”

Lenna shrugged. “That doesn't mean the Cardinals have blessed me with the blood of the Core. They would be royally pissed if you just pass your heirloom like you're passing a lipstick. Plus, I don't think it's doable. Your father took my heirloom and passed it to my sister because being twins makes us similar enough that the change in duties didn't make the land collapse.” Lenna bit her bottom lip in an unsuccessful attempt at keeping her side smile in. “Seeing how your Fifth Ceremony went in terms of breaking half the city, I can guess how refusing to become the Organ Mandor would go.”

A panomquake caused by that would leave no one and nothing left to rule.

Hope swallowed. “I can't do it, though. I mean, if I have no choice, I will do it. I'm not going to let people die because of me." Notagain. Not if she could avoid it. The desperate cries and the bodies spread on the Beftac Center for Injured Beings after her Fifth Ceremony still chased her dreams. “But I want to do it properly, and I cannot do that by myself.”

She couldn't remember the last time she had asked for help. So openly, and most importantly, without being ashamed of admitting out loud that she couldn't do something by herself. Maybe there wasn’t alast timebecause this was herfirst time. Ever.

Lenna passed a hand through her fire-colored waves, the ends of her hair moving against the white, revealing stripes of her top. Her golden eyes were fixed on a spot on the opposite wall.

“I could be your First Hand, if you want,” Lenna said.

“Excuse me?”

“Some Rulers in the past had a panom that gave them advice and supported them when making decisions and that sort of stuff.” Lenna chuckled before adding, “My mentor would be proud to know I remember some facts from his history lessons.”

“WhyHand, though?” Hope asked.

“The Fifth only knows. But it's boring, right? I wouldn't sign up to be called body parts of anyone. But if you call me something cooler, I would consider it.”

Hope lifted her eyebrows. She was not the right person to think in terms of coolness. “Is First Feather a better fit?”

Lenna put a finger on her chin. “I can work with that.”

The sudden sharp pain in Hope’s arm woke her up as the door of her bedroom opened with a bang.

Ciaran stormed inside, panting and gasping.

As soon as his blue eyes locked with Hope’s, he covered his face with both hands. “I’m going to kill him even if it’s the last thing I do,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

Shadows trembled on his wrists and ankles as if they held so much tension and rage that they could kill someone there and then.

She could feel the deep frown on her face. She had never seen him like this. Ciaran always was the embodiment of self-control and serenity.

“Are you hurt?” His voice was urging.

“Me?” Hope shook her head, the adrenaline of the feeling that something was very wrong building up in her veins. “I was sleeping. What’s wr—?”

Before Hope could finish her sentence, Nina screamed, horrified, at the other end of the apartment. Hope jumped out of the bed and started running towards the location of the scream.

They collided in a corridor, Nina shaking while touching Hope’s face over and over to make sure she was real. Her ocean-blue eyes were tinged with red broken little capillaries. Nina hugged her, crying while she repeated, “Thank the blessed Cardinals. Thank the blessed Cardinals.”

Ciaran’s steps had followed Hope closely from her bedroom, and while Nina cried, Hope asked Ciaran, “What happened?” Her face tensed with worry at whatever danger Ciaran and Nina had encountered.

Ciaran looked at the crystal ceiling, shadows still curling around his ankles. Dark green sparks jumped from his metallic arm as if it was electrified. “Come and see.”

He guided her to the balcony facing the Sweetgum Beech. Hope only stopped briefly to leave Nina in the kitchen with Ayla, who started preparing her a hot drink straightaway. Whatever had caused Nina to be so distressed, she didn’t need to see again.

Hope let out a broken gasp when she saw the water fountains.

The water wasn’t clear as usual. It was red. And there, in the middle of the platform, surrounded by water where the artists used to perform, lay a dead woman.

A black-haired woman with two braids, a muscular and fit complexion, taller than average and wearing the same dark clothes Hope usually wore.

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