63. Hope
63
Hope
T he red moonlight penetrated the crystal walls and ceiling of the apartment in the highest building of the square facing the Sweetgum Beech. Hope hadn’t asked if it was a panom thing or pure science that the crystal ceilings darkened during the day, protecting the inhabitants from the direct sunlight, but became clear at nighttime, allowing that characteristic and exquisite Terrhan tinge of redness through.
That the whole attic could only be seen by those who Ciaran allowed was definitely magic. So was the fact that entrance was limited to mouring, and only for those who he permitted to.
If the Organ Mandor, the Roix Reigner or any roixer only knew that they were right here, in the very center of Corentre, “hiding away”.
The musical show at Sweetgum Beech had been going on for hours, and Hope had enjoyed the loud music and the bright and colorful water fountains for the last few minutes. On the wide balcony, Brendon, Sasha and Indianna had been dancing and laughing non-stop since the very start, emptying bottles of myster as the hours passed.
Maybe one day Hope would get used to the loudness, the busyness, the brightness of such things. Maybe not. Maybe she would always prefer the peace and quiet that nature provided. Maybe she would find a balance.
For now, she welcomed the quiet that followed when she closed the glass door to the balcony.
She walked to the room that had been occupied since they had moured here. The room where Raoul was kept comfortable, attended to every single hour of the day and night. Next to his bed, Nina was reading a book.
“Do you need anything, Nina?” Hope asked.
Nina smiled, looking at her brother with such love and expectation that it was painful to see. Hope had heard Nina talking to him countless times, explaining every single thing that had happened since Verdania, talking about the weather, the flowers of the patio, or about the books she was reading.
“No, thank you. Ayla is kindly cooking me something.”
Hope nodded, grateful once again that the heir of the North Petal had saved Nina’s back during the fights at the Beftac Center, according to what had Nina had explained. Hope believed her. Ayla had ended up quite injured and with cuts on pretty much any visible surface that took a fair amount of time from Ciaran and Indianna until she healed fully. In contrast, Nina had just gotten a deep cut around her neck.
In the past few days in the Crystal Clear House, any time Hope offered Nina a drink, she had kindly accepted, but Hope hadn’t failed to note that there was always a just-finished or about-to- finish cup of nice-smelling teas next to her. She also knew that Nina barely left her brother’s side, and it wasn’t her doing.
Twice, Raoul had muttered something similar to “crannodez” that none of them had deciphered. Nina was convinced that he knew she was there, paying attention and listening to him, and that he was trying to tell her something. So she didn’t risk more time away from him than she absolutely needed, even if Indianna had insisted multiple times that it was important that Nina looked after herself in order to look after others.
After a whole day of crying, Sasha had decided that Carson w ouldn’t want her to be a crybaby for the rest of her life and that she should do something more useful than make her very pretty eyes red as fuck .
So, the two dancers in the rooftop were the ones leading the options to wake Raoul up. Indianna, as a healer, and Sasha, as a scientist, had come up with a couple of different drugs that they had tested on a reluctant Brendon. They had come up with a modified version of one that was safe to ingest and definitely worth a shot, and had given it to Raoul earlier that morning. Yet it was now almost ante meridiem, and nothing had happened.
Tomorrow was another day, and hopefully they would have other ideas in mind worth trying. Ciaran had already tried Healing him with no success. Ayla had once offered to Heal Raoul simultaneously, as they had apparently done when Hope had been unconscious after her Fifth Ceremony. Raoul hadn’t even moved a finger.
These days, Brendon was mainly focusing on misleading roixers with false tips about their whereabouts, and intercepting any vital pieces of information on their network as he apparently used to do while working at the Invisible Grand.
Carson’s body was kept cold in a special room. Until they were safe to moure somewhere else without being caught or risking their lives and bury him as he rightly deserved.
Life as a fugitive was not a new thing for Hope. But this was something new and very different.
Hope felt safe. Ciaran had explained to her how epitellia wards worked and, even if she hadn’t tried to create any yet, she believed they worked. She felt safe amongst these people that, save for Nina, she had not even known for more than a few days or weeks.
Hope knew exactly where every single one of her daggers was in her allocated bedroom, and that it would take her precisely eight seconds and a half to get to them sprinting from the furthest spot of the Crystal Clear House. Or she could also Give them to herself, as Ciaran had taught her. But she felt safe enough to not have them with her all the time.
The panom bits—or the powers, as she less preferred to talk about her own—had been much easier to understand and use than she thought. As if her body already knew what to do and how to do it. As if she had truly been born for this.
She was convinced that the Core Cardinal had said something similar when she dreamed about her. She had to figure out all she could remember from that conversation soon, but tonight there was another conversation outstanding.
Hope went to the patio on the opposite side of the house. The powerful scent of jasmine was immediate. That and… there, night and pine. She followed his scent right to the bench where Ciaran was sitting, contemplating the small trickling fountain surrounded by pretty bushes and different fruit trees. This had been Hope’s favorite part of the Crystal Clear House since the first day.
Ciaran looked at her and moved to the side, making space for her to sit next to him.
“Thank you,” Hope said. “It’s a beautiful night.”
“Nights are always beautiful,” Ciaran said, more to himself than to her. Did he know that his scent was as nightly as it could be? Perhaps it was the shadows in him.
“The note my mother received at the Trading Table. It was you,” Hope said. It wasn’t a question. She had known since she had seen his dark green ink on her skin at the Beftac Center. The same tone as the note her mother had received. The same handwriting.
“It was me.”
“And the map of Raoul’s location for Nina.” She knew that, too. “But the compassom?”
“It was me,” Ciaran said, looking at her. His blue eyes glittered under the stars.
“How did you know?”
“I have always known. Part of it. Not all of it.”
Hope frowned. The others said that he usually wasn’t very clear or very talkative, but he wasn’t as ambiguous with her as this.
Ciaran chuckled at her expression. He added, “Imagine having five paths around you, and you being absolutely sure about which one you are meant to take.”
“Intuition, I call that.”
“It is intuition, and it is something else. Something magical. Something words can’t explain.” Ciaran smiled, and Hope smiled as well. “But I knew I was meant to do that. That the Cardinals or Llunal were moving their strings for me to do that.”
“Are they Cardinals, or is it Llunal, who you believe in?” She didn’t care if she was too inquisitive or asking too personal questions.
“Can’t it be both?” he said, and she felt the breeze or a shadow caress her cheek.
“Have you always been panom and courtrade?”
“My father is panom, and my mother was courtrade, even if she never joined their society. That’s why Rhei Coralt killed her when he found out. I have been dual-powered since birth.”
Hope looked at him. His mother had also died at the hands of the same wicked being, even if it had been a long time ago.
“The other day you said nothing can compete against the Fifth Power. I want it. I don’t want even the remote possibility of my father walking out alive when I affront him,” Hope said.
“I fear you are not the only one who wants it. It will not come at a cheap price.”
“You want it too?” She wouldn’t be surprised at all.
“I do. But I was thinking about Lenna. She sent me an ink a few hours ago, something along the lines of You better get your asses healed quickly so we can get the Fifth Power or die trying. Time to take those motherfuckers for a ride. Your brother must have convinced her.”
Hope grinned. That woman. “She is not a woman that needs convincing.”
Ciaran laughed. “That’s so true.”
The door to the patio opened with a bang, a wide-eyed Sasha shouting, “Raoul is awake!”. She disappeared inside before they could even reply.
They were on their feet, running.
Hope entered the room first. Raoul’s ocean-eyes were definitely open on his pale face, and Nina crying and smiling as she kissed his hand and his white hair.
Raoul didn’t smile.
He grabbed Nina by the neck as he stared at Hope and said, “The Crown of Death is rising again.”