Noah read the notifications as his multicolored light wrapped around Adelheid's gold and held it together, the contact carrying the same warmth their bond had always carried, adjusted now for a space where the bond was not operating through cultivated channels but through whatever their two Sources were to each other at the level below cultivation.
He turned toward the direction the Terminal Infinity seemed to be flowing away from.
The obsidian chaos pressed against his multicolored Source and found it uncooperative. He moved through the waves the way something moved through water when the water was also listening to it, the obsidian Infinity around him not yielding out of weakness but responding to the Tongue that lived in what he was rather than in what he had built, each wave that reached his edges receiving a quiet instruction about its direction that the wave honored without apparent objection.
He guided Adelheid through the storm.
