Along the great roots that cradled them, out of season and out of reason, buds swelled and opened, small white blossoms unfolding by the dozen in the silver snow-light, as if the oldest ground in Elvardia had decided that whatever was happening in that hollow counted as spring.
Mana rose with them, dense and warm and approving, pouring up through the earth into two bodies built to conduct it. Low on Kaelira's bare stomach, Quinlan's crimson mark woke and glowed like a banked coal against all that silver and green.
"They're blooming," Sera whispered from the hollow's edge.
Kaelira, extremely occupied, did not care even slightly about the trees.
"Ah... ahh! Quin, I'm... it's...!"
