Book 2: The Ripple Effect

Chapter 1

“You have to stop calling me when you don't have any clothes on,” Eliza said.

Nathaniel grinned as he leaned closer to the camera. “I have pants on, your highness. It's seven a.m. here. I have to teach class in ten minutes.”

“So why are you calling me then?” The Queen of Jeffro smiled at him. He may be a galaxy away, but he was the only witch – the only being, at that – that could send shivers down her spine. She didn't like to admit it because they could never be together, but she had been in love with Nathaniel since she was seventeen, and nothing would change that.

She was only comforted by the fact that Nathaniel had been in love with her just as long. As soon as their eyes met -him fifteen and on one of his first big missions as a trainee witch- they knew that they could never be without each other. Witches weren't supposed to fall in love; they were supposed to devote their lives to magic, to the craft, and to training new witches to be the guardians of the galaxy. They were taken from their homes at a very young age and trained with no contact from their families. Most were accepting of this lifestyle, for they had known no other way. But occasionally, rouge ones like Nathaniel and his Maestro – his mentor Desmond – saw another way. Nathaniel had learned from Desmond that walking a grey line of witchcraft and love was possible. Neither of them were public about their relationships, but it meant the world to them.

“I'm calling you, my love, because I got a message from your offices saying my quest as your royal escort has been delayed.”

“Oh, that,” she said, as if she hadn't even been thinking of the month they were supposed to spend together. “Sorry. All the meetings were getting too complicated, so my team thought it best to postpone until we could work on a better schedule. I will still need a witch protection team. I'm just not sure when.”

“I was looking forward to it,” Nathaniel said, leaning back in his chair, “but, perhaps it's best there is a little delay.”

“Why is that?” she asked.

He sighed, running a hand over his face. “It's been a rough few nights.”

Eliza's face turned sympathetic. “Is she all right?”

“She'll be all right,” Nathaniel said, after a moment. “It's just rough.”

He was referring to his student; his first Tiro. Sienna was a witch, from an offsite facility, that displayed incredibly impressive strength. Her magic had brought Eliza back from the dead on her very first mission, something that had only been theorized. She was the star of the magical universe. She also carried a defect in her genes that made her horribly ill. Other witches born with her defective genes had not survived infanthood, and had certainly never been trained. Everything was a challenge with Sienna, it seemed. Some days, she could display enough strength to bring down an entire planet, and other days, keeping her on her feet was a challenge. She was such a unique case and challenge that both Nathaniel and Desmond had been designated as her Maestros, fitting Desmond's experience in his advanced age with Nathaniel's youth and energy. They split the duties of training her as best they could, accepting mostly low energy quests or staying at the Academy, teaching, training, and learning. It wasn't the life that the warrior witches had planned, but it was the life fate had set out for them.

Nathaniel had been angry when Desmond practically forced the assignment onto him. But Sienna, with her broken knowledge of the Basic language and a twinkle in her eye, had become his shadow, his world. She was from Jeffro, which made him feel closer to Eliza every time she spoke. He and Desmond had agreed on a rough schedule of six p.m. to six a.m. for supervision on Nathaniel's part, which meant lately, Nathaniel was the one not getting any sleep when she caught a raging fever during the night.

“She's strong,” Eliza said. “She's been through more than any twelve-year-old I know. Maybe she has a career as a medic.”

He snorted. “She may as well. She spends enough time in the med bay,” he said. “Except, we can never figure out what works. The acridid genes attacks her and everything around her that grows naturally, such as fruit, which is the focus of most medicine. I have to find things so heavy in chemicals that they would knock out a horse to give her any sort of relief. And Creator knows what that is doing to her system.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Nope,” he answered, with a false, cheery grin. “And I should get to class before the young ones bounce off the walls. Submit your new dates when you have them, Eliza.”

“I will,” she said. “It will be soon. I promise.”

“I hope so,” he said, and signed off. He took a deep breath, gathering his energy, and then went to get his shirt. The shower and juice had done nothing for him, and he was hoping that the emotional stimulation of several young Tiros in a flight simulator for the first time would have an effect.

He heard a knock on his door and swished his wrist to open it. He knew it was Desmond; he had felt him approaching through their magical bond.

“Good morning,” he said as he pulled his shirt on. “I have about thirty seconds.”

“I know,” Desmond said. He was normally a morning person, happy to rise at the crack of dawn, but today, his eyes were dull. “I felt that you had a difficult time last night. Is she still asleep?”

“For hours yet, I imagine,” Nathaniel replied.

“Should I have come?”

“No, I had it,” Nathaniel answered, although there were several times in the dark of night where he wished for an adult, until he realized he was one. When Sienna was fighting the pain and he could do nothing, he felt helpless, and it took him a long moment to come to terms with the fact that he was the adult; he was supposed to fix things. “Mostly. I did already write in to excuse her from classes today, and probably tomorrow.”

“Did you call the med bay?” Desmond tried to gather as much information as he could.

“I'm considering it,” Nathaniel answered truthfully. The medics, even in their advanced facility, knew little about the acridid gene, and could rarely do anything helpful. In addition, their choices of going with chemical treatment, considered outdated, was criticized in the med bay. They didn't consider it a useful option unless her body was in danger. “I don't know. She's got a fever, and she threw up everything I gave her. I think sleep is the best option, but–”

“I'll be around,” Desmond said. “Mariah is due back today, so I don't want to leave the facility.”

“Of course, you don't,” Nathaniel teased him. Mariah was an older Maestro, like Desmond, and the one who had his heart. For forty years, they had walked a grey line between appropriate and inappropriate behavior. Their relationship was so questionable that Nathaniel wasn't even sure if they had ever done more than held hands. Mariah had been blinded in a quest ten years ago, and since then, Desmond had become more protective of her. Despite the fact that she used her magic to make up for her lack of sight, she accepted his arm, daring anyone to oppose them. “I shouldn't be long. It's a two-hour class that I'm teaching, and then the rest of the day I will just be marking papers.”

“And get some rest,” Desmond said to him. “You're not eighteen anymore, Nathaniel. No sleep doesn't do you any good.”

“I'm all right,” Nathaniel said. “I'm sure you saw that Eliza delayed the mission, so we have some time.”

“I did see,” Desmond said. “So, if you don't get some rest for yourself, do it for Sienna. She will need you. And Eliza will need you soon, as well.”

“Right,” Nathaniel replied. “You've got it for right now, though?”

“Everything is fine,” Desmond assured him. “Go.”

“Thank you,” Nathaniel said, grabbing his bag and heading out the door. Desmond watched him with a smile. Nathaniel had come a long way since they had first taken on Sienna. Part of the reason Desmond had suggested they both train her was because Nathaniel wasn't ready to be apart from his Maestro. Physically, he passed the tests with flying colors. But emotionally, he was still young and in need of guidance. Desmond had thought it was the perfect solution for everyone. He hadn't foreseen the problems they would have, but he also hadn't foreseen their success.

He turned off the lights that Nathaniel had left on and was about to exit the room when his com-link buzzed. Looking down, he saw Mariah's caller ID.

“Hello,” he said, taking advantage of the privacy of the room. “Are you on your way back?”

“I am,” she replied. “Another few hours or so, though. I had trouble getting transport out. Is that all right?”

“That's fine,” he said. “I doubt my day will involve me leaving the building at any point. Everything all right?”

“Just a storm,” she answered. “I will be fine. I made such progress with them that I didn't want to leave early.”

Mariah was regularly offsite, working with those who had lost a sense in an accident or attack. Blind, deaf, or mute, she had a way to cope. She was an inspiration and regularly called on whenever there was such an occurrence

“I understand,” he said, and she picked up a note of sadness in his voice.

“Is everything all right?

“Nathaniel had a rough night with Sienna, it seems,” Desmond said. “And our quest was delayed, so I'm going to look into it. But on the bright side, it means that I will get to see you for longer.”

“That you will,” Mariah replied. “I am looking forward to it.”

“I'll see you soon,” he said, disconnecting. No matter how bad the situation, Mariah could always put a smile on his face. She was his constant strength, his moral compass.

He and Mariah had trained Tiro after Tiro together, often taking missions together. But after Nathaniel and her Tiro, Sybil, they had talked about being done and about retiring. While their lives were still expected to be devoted to magic, the rules would be different and more relaxed. They could move off-planet and live in peace.

And then he met Sienna and knew he had one more purpose in this galaxy. Mariah had understood, but decided not to take another Tiro herself. Sienna was not expected to make it to the tests and become a Maestro herself, either for life expectancy or lack of ability. Mariah had not wanted another five years with a Tiro if that was the case.

Desmond knew that, no matter what, he had to train Sienna, even if just to teach future generations how to deal with such powers. He was glad that Mariah was supportive, of course. But he had not been prepared for the challenges and energy it took. Without Nathaniel, he wasn't sure whether he would have made it even this far.

Reaching out with his magic, he found Sienna still sleeping. Glancing at the clock, he decided to stop by the cafeteria for some breakfast and then return to his room beside hers. That way, he wouldn't be far if she needed anything.

It seemed a long time ago that he and Nathaniel had been returning to this place as warriors, sweaty from battle and grinning like fools. How different life had become, he thought.

But it wasn't a bad thing, he decided. Life changed, and he accepted it.

Chapter 2

Darkness. A long, dark hand reaching out – fingers like rope, claws like knives.

Reaching; striking, and she couldn't get away from them. Mist swirling around her.

Sienna awoke with a scream, her chest aching as she gasped for breath.

“It's okay, little one.” She felt a cool hand on her wrist, calming magic flowing into her. Desmond was sitting beside her bed, his calm face waiting patiently as he always had. Desmond had always been patient with her – when her magic was out of control; when she couldn't walk straight; when her language was broken. He had always given her the impression he would wait forever for her to take the tests, if that's what it took.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, her eyes fluttering.

“It was just a dream,” Desmond tried to assure her. “Nothing more.”

“It was…” She fought to wrap her words around the Basic language. “Frightening.”

“Yes, I know,” he said. “But we have nothing to fear from the galaxy, or from anything, for magic can always protect us. Isn't that true?”

She said nothing, her heart still pounding.

“Sienna?”

“Yes.” She lay back against the pillows, pushing her sweaty, dark hair out of her eyes. “Yes.”

“Here,” he said as he handed her a cup of water. She dehydrated so quickly that it almost seemed pointless to be constantly handing her water. It was something that they discovered early on in their lives – one of the constant battles. “Drink.”

“What time is it?” she asked him.

“It's nearly two in the afternoon.” Desmond sat back. “You and Nathaniel had quite the night, I heard.”

“I threw up,” she said, finishing the water glass. “Nineteen times, at least.”

“Lovely,” he said, wondering if he should refill it. “I'll be honest with you, Sienna. I don't like the temperature you're running. For an hour or two, it's one thing, but the whole night and into the afternoon is concerning.”

She tensed up. “Don't,” she said, and he sighed.

“I don't see that I have a choice,” he said, referring to the impending trip to the med bay. “I can go with you, but we're walking on dangerous ground.”

“Tara knows nothing,” Sienna protested. “She's more harmful than helpful.” Tears filled her eyes; the trauma of previous med bay trips mixed with the emotion the latest fever had brought overwhelming her.

“I'm not going to simply dump you there,” he said. “I'll come with you, and I will supervise any treatment she prescribes.”

She drew her long legs up to her chest.

“I want Nathaniel,” she said. Desmond raised an eyebrow and smiled.

“There was a time when you only wanted me to come everywhere with you. Do you remember that?”

She paused.

“You did,” he said. “You didn't trust Nathaniel; you wanted me with you every moment. Now I'm being replaced?”

“No!” she cried before she realized he was joking.

“Come on,” he said, standing up and holding out his hand. “You're burning up, little one. It's damaging.”

“I have to…”

“You don't have to change,” he said, softly. “You're likely going to be admitted.”

“I don't want to,” she cried, and he sighed. She may be twelve now, but she sounded as young as when they first met her. “Please.”

“We'll see what Tara advises,” he said. She knew better than to her argue with him for an extended period of time, and so she threw back the covers, slowly throwing her legs over the side of the bed. She took his hand, pressing on it to help herself up. He thought she would be fine, despite her hand shaking. Her eyes were alert, and her teeth gritted as she focused on the simple task of getting out of bed.

He felt the shift in magic before he saw her falter. Her life force flickered, and then for one horrifying moment, dissipated as she fell into his arms.

It came back almost right away, but it scared him as she went limp. Sienna fainted often, but this was much different.

He put his foot up on the bed to hoist her into his arms, his heart pounding. She was so light, and he cursed himself, wondering if there was something he had missed – something crucial in the last few days. What had she eaten? Was she not drinking? Was there a virus going around? Why did she weigh so little?

‘What's happening?’ Nathaniel's thoughts shot through his brain loud and clear. Their bond was strongest in moments of urgency.

‘Med bay,’ Desmond managed to shoot back, clumsily opening the door. He was grateful for choosing new rooms last year that were not far from the med bay, precisely for this very reason.

“Help!” he bellowed as he made it through the sliding glass doors. His calm demeanor was gone as he almost tripped. She still wasn't waking up.

The next few moments were a flurry of activity as the medics rushed forward. They babbled to each other, taking her limp body as a stretcher became available. There was magic, tubes, and wires being prepared for her. An oxygen mask went over her face. Tara, the head medic, came rushing in, placing her hands on Sienna's face.

“Creator,” she swore, turning to look at Desmond. “How long has she been like this?”

“At least the night,” Desmond replied, trying to step forward. Tara half growled at him.

“I can fix this. But we're looking at days of treatment, and you're not going to like most of it.”

“Treat her immediate needs,” Desmond said. “When Nathaniel arrives, we will discuss the long term.”

“Of course.” Tara rolled her eyes. “The two of you are going to kill her, you know that?”

“Excuse me?” Nathaniel made it through the doors, and he did not look happy. He could see that Sienna was in caring hands with the nurses, and her chest was rising and falling. His rage at the statement was directed at Tara. “When exactly did you become qualified to tell me what was best for my Tiro, Tara?”

“When?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “When I became a medic and you two started subscribing to weird, alternative therapies.”

“Enough,” Desmond snapped. “Treat her, and we will discuss this later.”

That was enough to snap Tara into action. “Stay there,” she said as she pointed to the waiting room chairs. “I'll call you.”

And then she was gone, disappearing through the white curtains.

Desmond sank into a chair, rubbing his face with a tired sigh. He felt Nathaniel sit beside him and turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Another day in these chairs,” he said. “Same old, same old.”

“What happened?” Nathaniel asked, concerned.

“She just flickered out,” Desmond said, at last. “I was taking her here anyway, but I think the effort of it was too much. She'll be all right. I can already feel her getting stronger. But Nathaniel…for one moment, I felt nothing. No life force.”

“Creator,” Nathaniel swore, leaning back. “That's never happened before.”

“No,” Desmond agreed. “Something new has happened. I don't know what it is, but I'm sure Tara will get to the bottom of it.”

“And argue with us all the way,” Nathaniel replied wearily. Desmond's com-link went off, and he saw that it was Mariah announcing her arrival. Nathaniel glanced at it and then nodded toward the door. “Go. I'll be here.”

“I'll stay,” Desmond said, but Nathaniel shrugged.

“Go. You haven't seen Mariah in weeks. I'll call you if something changes.”

“Thank you,” Desmond replied as he rose. “I won't be long.”

“One of us should be happy and relaxed,” Nathaniel answered, watching his Maestro go.

Once he did, he slumped more into the chair, sighing. They did spend far too much time in these chairs for their own good. It was starting to feel like this particular chair was molding to him.

He was lost in his own thoughts when he felt someone sit beside him.

He looked up to see a Maestro about his age sitting beside him. Tall with her blonde hair pulled into a pony tail, he vaguely recognized her as Laura, who had been in his class back when he was still studying. She was skilled in diplomacy, and absolutely stunning. With flashing blue eyes and a sculpted face, she turned heads wherever she went.

“Nathaniel,” she said with a smile. “Fancy meeting you here.”

She was still dressed in quest clothing, dusty and in need of a shower. It didn't make her any less beautiful, he thought.

And then he shook himself. Why was he thinking these things?

“And you, Laura,” he replied. “What brings you into the world's most uncomfortable seating arrangements?”

“Ah, my Tiro, Devon, just got back from a quest and needed a little tune-up,” she said.

Nathaniel smirked. “Is he a robot?”

“He learns like one,” Laura answered. “Smartest fourteen-year-old I know.”

“Mine is twelve,” Nathaniel said. “Sienna.”

“Everyone knows Sienna,” Laura said with a smile. “She's got quite the reputation. Is she in, too?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Just a little scare.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, knowing most of the story. “That must be hard.”

“I'd like to say I get used to it,” he replied, “but I don't, of course.”

“Of course,” she said. “She'll be all right?”

“I'm sure,” he forced the smile back on his face. “And Devon? Was he injured in battle?”

“He just needs to a see a medic for a moment,” Laura answered strangely. Nathaniel looked puzzled but decided to let it go. If Laura didn't want to share, then it wasn't his business. Some Maestros kept everything about their Tiro under wraps, choosing to accept no outside help in their training. “He'll be fine.”

“That's good,” he settled back into the chair. “Where were you?”

“On Rhona,” she smiled at him. “Nothing like a little life and death prisoner exchange to get your blood pumping.”

“Oh, that's amazing,” he said as he grinned. “I did that quest a few times. The adrenaline rush is like nothing else.”

“That's what Devon likes,” Laura said. “I keep trying to force diplomacy on him like a bad Maestro, but he wants to be a warrior.”

“Aye, I know that story,” Nathaniel answered. “Sienna wants to be a warrior, too.”

“Oh,” Laura said. “But you don't want her to be?”

“Well, she can't,” he said, confused. He thought this was obvious.

Laura shrugged, “I don't know. I just think you should let them walk the path they want to walk. Any one of us could be hit by a ship tomorrow”

“Hopefully not,” Nathaniel answered. “My piloting skills aren't that bad.”

Laura laughed. “Wasn't it you who backed a ship into a post once?”

“I was thirteen!” he protested. “You can't hold that against me. At least it was in a simulator. I'm surprised you remember that.”

“Oh, I remember that.” She gave him a look. “You impress me, Nathaniel. I always keep an eye out for your news.”

“Oh,” he said, unsure how to answer. “Thank you.”

Laura laughed. “Don't be so serious,” she said. “We've got hours of sitting in these chairs; we might as well make use of them.”

“What did you have in mind?” he asked, confused. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a deck of cards.

“Can you play Five Pence?”

“I was born playing Five Pence,” he answered, pulling a small table over. It looked like it was half a hundred years old, but it would do for now. “Deal.”

“I'll bet you're out in…” she glanced at the clock. “Eight minutes.”

“You're on,” he said, grateful for the distraction. Laura was so cheery, so happy, and he couldn't help but smile. Maybe today wouldn't be so horrible after all.

Chapter 3

“Ah, Creator,” came the curse.

Sienna groggily opened her eyes, the world coming back into focus. She knew where she was right away; it was all too familiar. She was in the med bay, hooked up to an IV for nutrition and for hydration. There was an oxygen tube in her nose, and her hair was tangled.

Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was nearly three o'clock, so she had been out for an hour. She felt like she had been hit by a spaceship.

The med bay felt particularly crowded, and she heard a buzz of voices. There must have been an accident – a few missions returning with injuries, perhaps.

Normally, if she was in a room, she was alone, her bed against the window.

Today, in the second bed, there was boy in street clothes and an IV in his arm. He was fiddling with it, and from the looks of things, he had pulled it out by accident.

Sienna struggled to clear her throat, her world hazy. “Purple,” she croaked, and he turned to her.

“What?” he asked.

He was handsome, his hair cut close to his head, and his eyes twinkling. She had seen him around the school, but he was a full two years older than her, and they had never spoken.

“Connect the tube to the purple connector,” she managed again, trying to sit up. Her monitors beeped, but then they settled down. “There.”

She vaguely pointed, and he finally saw what had fallen out.

“Oh, thanks,” he said, reaching down. For someone hooked up to an IV, he seemed surprisingly well.

Her eyes flickered up to the bag, but she couldn't read the label. Whatever he was on, it didn't seem to be something he desperately needed.

“There,” he said as he grinned at his own competence. “Perfect.”

“Mmm,” she managed a smile, closing her eyes as she settled back against the pillows. She could feel Nathaniel's presence not far away, and she knew she was safe. As usual, all she had to focus on was getting better.

“You're Sienna, aren't you?” he asked, and she opened her eyes.

“Yes?” she asked, in confusion.

“I'm Devon,” he said, holding out his hand. She paused, tangled in wires, and he pulled back. “Right. Sorry, I'm dumb today. It's nice to meet you.”

“You too,” she answered, watching him.

“I'm not a stalker,” he grinned. “Your Maestros are just in every combat textbook out there. They are legends. You are lucky.”

“Oh,” she said. “Yes.” She knew how well known they were, and it was a fact that often made her feel guilty. They were legends before she came around and made their lives a series of boring quests.

“That must be awesome,” he said. “I mean, my Maestro is pretty awesome. But you have two amazing ones.”

“I do.” She managed to sit up a bit more. “I've just never been called lucky.”

“What this?” he waived to the medical equipment around them. “This is just temporary.”

She smiled. “Why are you here?”

“I just got back from a quest,” he said with a shrug. “Nothing to worry about it. You?”

“I…” she shook her head. “Something is wrong.”

“Nothing looks wrong to me,” he looked upon her, and she blushed.

“What do you mean?”

“Only that you look nice,” he replied.

She shook her head. “I look like a mess.”

“Because they told you that you did,” he shrugged. “But you look beautiful. Don't let how you're feeling dictate what your life is going to be.”

The words were profound, and her eyes flickered on him a moment too long.

The curtain was pulled back then, and Tara entered.

“Devon,” she said. “You're about done. You can go. Your test came back stable, so you're all right for now.”

“Great,” he said, looking up at the bag. “Look, I did the whole thing!”

“You want a pat on the head for that?” she asked, as she disconnected him. “Why is this wet?”

“Accidentally pulled it out,” he answered, and she sighed.

“Try to be gentle with my medical equipment,” she answered. “Now, you come back if anything feels odd. I don't know if this is going to work better than what you have, but it was worth a shot.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said, hopping off the bed. He turned back to Sienna, flashing her a dazzling smile. “I'll see you around.”

“Yes,” she answered, still stunned. Her gaze lingered after him until he picked up his things and left. She had never met anyone like him before, and her mind was whirling.

“Hello, Sienna?” Tara said, waving a hand in her face. “You with me?”

“Yes,” Sienna shook herself back to the present moment. “Nathaniel?”

“He's in the waiting room,” Tara answered. “You're not going anywhere.”

“But,” Sienna choked, “for how long?”

“Days,” Tara said, glancing at her vitals. “You can't let yourself get this way, do you hear me? Are your Maestros giving you your medications?”

“Yes,” she said, horrified. “You think they would not?”

“Look, I'll be honest with you,” Tara answered. “I have no idea what to do with your acridid gene, I'm guessing. But I am a medic, and I can see a decline of a problem that should have been fixed by certain medications. Your levels were more stable last month, and now they've plummeted. So, I'm going to ask you again, are you taking everything I've prescribed?”

“Yes!” she cried. “I swear.”

“Sure,” Tara said, making a full page of notes. “I'll get Nathaniel if you want, although I'm not eager to be told what to do. Try to remember I'm the one trained in medicine.”

She left her to head to the waiting room, and Sienna closed her eyes. What the hell had just happened?

“Hey.” Nathaniel entered the room, and she was surprised to see him looking incredibly bright eyed. As far as she knew, he had gone straight to class after their disastrous night. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm all right,” she said. “You look well.”

“I just played a card game that was like a race,” he said, pulling up a chair. “I have another career as a gambler if being a witch doesn't work out.”

“With who?” she asked, curious.

“Another Maestro. Your hands are cold,” he said, squeezing them. “Although, it's better than too warm. You gave us quite a scare.”

“I'm all right,” she repeated, sinking down into the blankets. “Tara is mad.”

“Tara is always mad,” he said, looking up at the IVs she was hooked up to. “What the…? No!” he said, as he read the labels. “I told her specifically not to give you this.”

“That's what she's mad about,” Sienna said, but he didn't hear her. He was already headed out the door to give Tara an earful.

Sometimes, her greatest wish was that they could all just get along for one med bay trip. Just one; it could even be a short one.

Her Maestros had taken to rarely leaving her alone, and she was glad for that. She didn't feel safe without one of them around, especially when her language was still shaky. It used to be worse, but now she was used to relying on them out of habit. That night, when she was finally settled with a medication that Nathaniel was happy with, and Desmond was sitting in a chair, working on paperwork, she spoke up.

“Do you know this person?” she asked, having found Devon's profile on the school's database. Every Tiro had one with their picture and their qualifications.

Desmond looked up from his paperwork, focusing on the screen. “That's Devon,” he said, after a moment. “Sure. That's Laura Maris's Tiro. Why?”

“He was here today,” she said, pointing to the other bed which remained empty.

“Oh,” Desmond replied. “That's odd.”

“Why?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“I wasn't aware Devon had any health issues. You're in the chronic treatment wing.”

“Oh,” she realized.

“What was wrong?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“I didn't see,” she said. “It was crowded today.”

“It was,” he said. “There was a big quest that came back with rescues, so maybe he was just in here because it was overcrowded.”

“Maybe,” Sienna continued to stare at his picture. His eyes were addicting, and the smile in his photo was exactly what she remembered. “He is a diplomat?”

“I don't know,” Desmond answered. “Laura doesn't put him in class too much, nor does she opt for open discussion when called for review.”

“Oh,” she said. “Do you have…open discussion with the Jurors?”

“Nope,” he said, with a smile, “so I understand her reasoning.”

“Oh,” she finally tore herself away from the tablet. “Is Mariah back?”

“She is,” Desmond said. “Her mission went well. She wanted to see you, but I told her to wait until you were awake, at least.”

“I want to see Mariah,” she said. “Please.”

“I can call her,” Desmond answered. “But maybe tomorrow. It was quite a scare, Sienna.”

“And I ruined the quest,” she said.

“You didn't,” Desmond assured her. “Eliza postponed it because her meetings changed. So, you didn't ruin anything.”

“Oh,” Sienna replied. “I'm sorry, though.”

“Don't be sorry,” Desmond tried to convince her. “Just focus on getting well.”

She yawned, and he nudged her arm.

“See? Your body is already suggesting you do that.”

“Don't go,” she said like a small child.

“Where have I ever gone?” he asked her.

“With Mariah?” she suggested, and he chuckled.

“That is true. I'll give you that,” he answered. “Get some rest, Sienna. I have an infinite amout of paperwork to do, so I'm not going anywhere.”

“Nathaniel?”

“Is out like a light,” Desmond answered. “I think he met Devon's Maestro today, actually.”

“Oh!” Sienna's eyes lit up. “He played cards with her.”

“It's not nice to read people's minds without their permission,” Desmond said.

“Don't I have your permission all the time?” she asked. “You are my Maestro.”

“No,” he said quickly. “Just because you are very skilled at it does not mean that you can do it whenever you want.”

She gave him a cheeky grin, and he shook his head.

“Especially not when I'm with Mariah.”

“Why, if everything is in line with the Jurors?” she asked, knowing full well that it wasn't.

“Sienna,” he said, pointing at her tablet, “I think you have schoolwork to do, yes?”

“Yes,” she answered, going back to the tablet. But she didn't do her schoolwork. Instead, she noticed that Devon had the messenger activated on his profile. She hovered over it for a moment, but she didn't click on it.

He was probably just being nice, she thought. And likely, she would never see him again, except from a distance. There was no reason to bother him.

She looked out the window where the sunlight was fading. It was another wasted day where she couldn't be outside, learning the ways of witches, using her magic. She felt so behind sometimes, and, yet, she was grateful for where she was. Sienna had spent most of her life being told she would never be trained at all. She wasn't supposed to ever fight in a showcase or meet a Maestro. And yet, here she was with two legendary ones.

She clicked on Devon's messenger icon with those thoughts in mind. If life could change that much and she could do so much that she never thought possible, she could at least be brave enough to message him. The worst that could happen was that he wouldn't write back.

Hi, nice to meet you today, she wrote.

And you, he replied right away. She smiled, pulling her tablet closer. She wasn't going to get any schoolwork done tonight, that was for sure.

Chapter 4

“It's a magical surge,” Tara said the next day as she went over the test results with Desmond and Nathaniel. “We all get them as we grow. Just with Sienna, it's obviously different.”

“How much power are we talking about?” Nathaniel asked, wanting exact measurements. His mind was scientific; he understood such things. But Tara simply shrugged.

“It's off the charts, Nathaniel. And once it goes off the charts, there's no way for me to tell. She's not like anyone else. You know that.”

“But you can't just give up,” Nathaniel protested. “We have to know.”

“What part of ‘not like anyone else’ is so hard to understand?” Tara asked him, half growling. “I don't know. I can treat her like any other teenager having a magical surge and hope that it works. Suppress her power with herbs until she learns–”

“You will not give her herbs,” Nathaniel cut her off and gritted his teeth.

“Nathaniel,” Desmond said. “You have to at least listen to what she has to say.”

“Thank you,” Tara answered, although she wasn't impressed. “It's just until she learns how to control her power. About twenty-five percent of witches hitting puberty go through this. It's normal.”

“Do they spike fevers, seize, and faint?” Nathaniel asked and Tara shook her head.

“Of course not. They just feel a bit ill.”

“So, it's not normal,” Nathaniel pointed out.

Tara rolled her eyes. “Do you want me to do nothing?”

“We will consider our options,” Desmond said. “Thank you, Tara. How much longer until she can leave?”

“When you are comfortable,” Tara replied. “Obviously, you aren't taking her on missions. There is something else you should know though.” She flipped to a screen on the tablet. “Her blood pressure dropped three points, and nothing I do can get it up. No amount of treatment or medication is going to help, so it's going to be normal for her. But this comes a year after another drop. This blood pressure drop is a steady occurrence. It's why she faints.”

“She's deteriorating,” Nathaniel said, slowly.

Tara shrugged, pulling back the tablet. “You knew that,” she said coldly. “You've always known that.”

“Your bedside manner is stunning,” Nathaniel said as he stood. “Thanks for nothing.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Tara answered as she left them.

Desmond gave his former Tiro a look. “Why are you so terrible to her?”

“Because she's terrible to us,” Nathaniel answered.

Desmond sighed. “That is not what the magic teaches us,” he pointed out.

“Tara is an exception to all rules,” Nathaniel glanced at the clock. “What do you want to do? That quest is postponed, so we aren't expected to leave anyway. I still have class to teach if we take her out of here, and I suppose the Jurors will expect you to do more than sit with her while you are here. Although they shouldn't.”

“What do you want to do?” Desmond asked calmly. “It was not I who had to sit with her while she fought the darkness. It couldn't have been easy. Do you want to go through that again?”

Nathaniel took a deep, shuddering breath. He hadn't been honest with Desmond, but it had been one of most frightening nights of his whole life. She had made no sense, raving and fighting against the pain, and he wished he could take it away.

“I don't know,” he said. “I want her to be safe. Tara makes that sound like it will be weeks, but I can see that she is better already. She did homework last night, so that's something. She's itching to return to class.”

“Maybe another day,” Desmond said as he rose as well. “Do you agree?”

“Yes,” Nathaniel said, watching his former Maestro. “You have a meeting?”

“I do,” Desmond said. “Our usual shift schedule is obviously disrupted. I'll be back within the hour, if that's fine with you.”

“Indeed,” Nathaniel replied.

Desmond hated to leave him, but he and Mariah had arranged to grade a batch of brand new initiates who were barely able to walk. At this age, they were assessed by the Academy, and it was determined whether they would be returned to their families or not. It was going to be quick, although his mind was clearly distracted.

“You're troubled.” Mariah had a knack for knowing as soon as he entered the room. They were meeting in a small conference room, the children to be brought to them.

“You always know,” he said as he took a seat beside her.

“Is it Sienna?”

He sighed. “It is. But Nathaniel's handling of the situation surprises me every day. He is a strict Maestro, with no room for leniency in the rules he has set out.”

“Not what you expected?” Mariah asked.

Desmond squeezed her hand lightly. “He's so different from the others, that's for sure.”

“So different from me, you mean?”

Desmond's head snapped up, and a smile came over his face. Christa, his former Tiro, stood in the doorway, her leather jacket still buckled and her hair pulled up.

Christa was his second Tiro, a special case. She had been seventeen when her Maestro was killed on the cusp of the tests. Obviously, the death of her Maestro set her back, and her fate was unknown. Desmond had been freshly reeling from Reynolds' desertion and had not wanted to take on another Tiro, possibly ever. Somehow, the two found each other. The year he spent training Christa was for his own healing as much as hers. At eighteen, she took the tests and went on to become a pilot with flight skills that were second to none. She had one Tiro a few years ago who was now grown. Now, she seemed happy, healthy, and energetic – the opposite of Sienna.

“Everyone is different from you, Christa,” he said, glad to lay eyes on her. “Was it you who flew these new initiates in?”

“Through a meteor shower, blindfolded,” Christa grinned. “The blindfold was just for fun.”

“Of course, you did,” Desmond answered.

“I just saw Sybil, Mariah,” Christa said. “She and Kierry were on Lanco, where I was doing a pickup.”

“Small galaxy,” Mariah said with a smile. She was so glad when Desmond had taken Christa on, for it had brought them both a light in the darkness. “How many are coming, Christa?”

“Six or seven,” Christa said. “I'm not sure of half of them, but that's not my job; it's yours.”

“Are you staying, Christa?” Desmond asked. She flew so often that she didn't have regular rooms there. Christa was more comfortable in space than on land. “We could have dinner, if you'd like?”

“Sure,” she said with a shrug. “All of us?”

“Er…” Desmond answered. “Sienna is in the med bay, and Nathaniel will not leave her side. So, it will likely just be us, if that's all right.”

“Oh,” Christa's face fell. She had known Nathaniel since he was a child, and Desmond's newest addition was as dear to her as a sibling. “I should go see them.”

“You must be busy,” Desmond said, but she shook her head.

“It's fine. My duty is over for the day. I'll see you for dinner, though, Maestro.”

“See you soon,” Desmond said, as Christa ducked out. He turned back to Mariah who squeezed his hand.

“You always light up when she's in the room,” Mariah said, and Desmond smiled.

“She was the easiest one,” he said. “I thought it would be so difficult to take over, but Christa was so strong, so independent. She taught me more than I taught her, I'm sure of it.”

“And now there's whole new generations running around with the teaching of Desmond in their heads,” Mariah said softly.

She was leaning particularly close to him, and he focused on her soft, rose colored lips. Mariah was so beautiful, but it wasn't her physical appearance that took his breath away. It was her strength, her words, and her love for him.

Never in forty years had they ever walked away from each other. She was a piece of him as much as his arm or heart was. He leaned in ever so gently, unable to resist.

He used to be able to resist her. But something about age creeping up on him had taught him that time was useless if it was wasted.

“Oh, my,” Mariah said softly at the light kiss. “What's gotten into you?”

“The realization of mortality,” he replied as he pulled back. “What if I never got a chance to do that again? I would live with regrets.”

“And now you live with none?” she asked.

“Never,” he answered as he heard the young Tiros start to file down the hallway. Their love was a secret. He may have taught his Tiros many things, but except for Nathaniel, he was glad they hadn't learned this part.

***

In the med bay, Sienna was feeling better as the drugs Tara had her on flooded her system. However, she could have been dying and she wouldn't have noticed as she watched Devon hop into a chair across the hallway, stretching his arm out so they could connect him to an IV pole.

She didn't want to be obvious, but she knew that she was staring. It only took a moment before he noticed her staring and smiled. As soon as he was properly hooked up, he stood, taking the pole and walking across the hallway to her.

“So, they still have you in this joint?” he asked, leaning against her doorway.

She shrugged. “It's going to be a few days, I think. It's okay. I'm used to it.”

“Nah, no one should be used to it,” he said, coming in. “We could blow this joint and get some food.”

“What?” she asked as she smiled at him. “We can't just leave.”

“Why not?” he asked, following her own IV tubing. “We're technically portable. No one is going to stop us. We'll say we are just going for a walk.”

“But…” She had never heard such a suggestion of rebellion before. “Don't you need to be here?”

“I need to be hooked up, that's all,” he said. “The rest is up to me.”

She paused at that, unsure of whether to trust him. Her eyes went up to his IV bag. “Why are you here?” she asked as she squinted at the label. He shrugged.

“Just some after quest maintenance."

“No,” she sat up a bit more. “That's Hydroxon. That's not for injuries. At least, not in humanoids.”

“Maybe I'm not a humanoid,” he said, and she raised an eyebrow.

“You must be a master of magic then,” she said, and he considered his options.

“What do you think it's for?”

“Hydroxon?” she asked, and he nodded. “That's for cell death. To kill a foreign entity in your body.”

“Sure,” he replied. “So, we are on a quest and an alien life form–”

“Not that kind of foreign entity,” she replied. She may be tired, but she wasn't stupid. “One that you create within yourself. They tried it on me a few times, but it just made me worse.”

He sighed. “You're smart, eh?”

“About some things,” she answered. “Are you sick?”

He looked over his shoulder and then walked a few steps closer.

“No one needs to know, hmm?”

Her eyes widened. “Does your Maestro know?”

“Yes, of course.” He rolled his eyes. “It would be impossible to not tell her. But aside from her, I mean. And you, I guess.”

Suddenly, what Desmond said about Laura keeping her mouth shut concerning Devon made sense. She was hiding a condition of his from the Jurors, likely to keep them from controversial choices he was making.

“Are you…” She paused, trying to think of the best words. “You are very sick?”

“If this was the twenty-first century on Earth or somewhere else remote, I might be,” he answered. “But here, and now? No. There's so many things they have. Don't let the tubing fool you. I don't feel any pain, I don't have sick days, and I won't drop dead anytime soon.”

His grin was infectious. Despite the lightness of his voice, she felt like he had just let her in on a secret. They had something in common, and he had told her something that no one else knew.

Maybe she could trust him.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Just down to the cafeteria,” he answered. “I'm starving, and you know how they are with these drugs. Never eat anything fun until they are done. Can you walk?”

“Mostly,” she was slow, but she could still place her feet on the floor.

“Here, my lady,” he said, and held out his arm.

“Sir,” she grinned as they touched. Shivers went down her spine, and she leaned slightly on him as they walked. This was the first real adventure she'd had in months, and she was glad to have it with him.

Chapter 5

“No, you didn't!” Laura grinned at Nathaniel as she sipped the tea he had gotten for them.

“I did,” he said. “In the middle of the palace, and I didn't care. Someone needed to stand up to the South.”

“Someone needed to stand up to your mouth,” she howled with laughter. “Oh, no wonder you are a legend.”

“I don't think I'm a legend,” he said as he grinned, his feet up on a chair. He had been told Sienna was napping, and although he desperately wanted one himself, he was happy for the distraction. She was funny, full of life, and willing to exchange disastrous quest stories. If he had to sit here in the world's most uncomfortable chair, at least she could entertain him.

“Of course, you are.” She grinned, putting her feet up on the other side of his chair. She had long, beautiful legs that seemed to go on forever, her body sculpted and toned. She was in fantastic shape, likely from the quests she took. He especially enjoyed her from this angle, how her eyes sparkled when she laughed. Desmond was always so serious, and it was rare in the past few days that he had a conversation without sighing. This was a welcome change from the gloom and doom that seemed to follow him. “Devon learns about you in his classes. The first time he saw you across the hangar, he actually pointed and yelped.”

“That's surreal,” Nathaniel said. “Most days, I can hardly figure out that I'm the adult in the room.”

“I know that feeling,” Laura admitted quickly. “Devon asks me questions about mathematics I've long forgotten, and I look around for another Maestro. But then I realized I'm supposed to be the one who is helping him. It's so odd, especially now that he's older.”

“How long have you been training him?” Nathaniel asked.

“Since he was six,” she answered. “So eight years, I guess?”

“Wow,” Nathaniel said. “That's young. He'll be ready to take the tests soon.”

“Shall we check on them?” Laura changed the topic quickly, standing up. “It will be nice to stretch the legs.”

“Sure,” Nathaniel answered, standing up as well. He was a bit puzzled by her reaction, but he didn't want to draw attention to it. Maybe Devon was having trouble reaching the level the tests required. At fourteen, Nathaniel was nowhere near ready. But then, he hadn't become Desmond's Tiro until one year prior, so that made perfect sense. For Nathaniel, fourteen was just the beginning. He had to struggle to remember that, for others, it was almost the end. “Where's yours?”

“I don't know. He wanders.” Laura grinned. “Do you want me to come with you first? Does yours wander?”

“No,” Nathaniel was firm on that as they walked down the hall. “She's usually pretty close to our sides. But then, we usually want to be in arm's reach, just in case.”

“Makes sense,” Laura said as they rounded the corner to Sienna's room. She was about to tell him another joke when they entered the room. It was empty.

“What the…?” Nathaniel asked, spinning in a slow circle. She wasn't anywhere, including the window ledge or the bathroom.

“Would they have taken her for tests?” Laura asked at his confusion.

“No, they would have told me,” Nathaniel answered. “Every test has to be approved by Desmond and me. Where is she?”

“Devon should be here,” Laura pointed to a long row of chairs in the room across the hall where others were receiving IV treatments. But a quick scan with her eyes showed her that he wasn't there either.

‘Sienna,’ Nathaniel wasted no time closing his eyes and reaching out with his bond. She should be able to hear him almost anywhere and answer within seconds. She had been bonded to him since the early days, when her Basic was weak and that was their only way of communication.

There was no answer.

‘Sienna!’ he cried out in his mind again. Maybe she just wasn't listening. But there was nothing.

His eyes flew open, wild as he tried to think.

Just then, Tara walked into the room, a clipboard in her hand.

“Where is she?” Nathaniel blurted out.

Tara stopped dead, looking confused. “What?” she asked.

“Sienna,” Nathaniel repeated, as if she was an idiot. “What did you do, Tara?”

“What in the galaxy are you talking about?” Tara asked. “I didn't do anything to her.”

“You didn't sneak her off to a test without my permission?” Nathaniel's eyes narrowed. “Because I know you've been dying to learn more about the acridid gene, like she's some sort of farm animal on an experimental table.”

“If I wanted to do that,” Tara answered, “I could find better subjects at a much better stage in their lives. How dare you accuse me of such a thing? Why would you think I would risk my medical license to do that?”

“I wouldn't put it past you.”

“Whoa, whoa!” Laura put her arm out between the two of them. “Slow down, you two. Devon's missing, too.”

“Devon's missing, too?” This alarmed Tara. As much as she didn't get along with Nathaniel, she ran a tight ship. Her patients didn't normally wander off.

“Hold on.” Laura closed her eyes, trying to reach out. She was finding it hard to focus with so much anger in the air, and it took her half a second longer than normal. ‘Devon.’

‘Laura,’ came back his cheeky thoughts.

‘You causing trouble?’ She was casual about it, as she always was. Devon never kept secrets from her, and this time was no exception. ‘We're looking for you.’

‘Ice cream,’ he answered. ‘Just in the cafeteria. I was hungry.’

‘Any chance Sienna was hungry, too? Nathaniel's Tiro?’

‘Yep,’ came Devon's reply, and Laura's eyes flew open.

“It's okay,” she said as the world came back into focus. “They are just in cafeteria.”

“What?” Nathaniel answered, outraged. “Why would they just walk away?”

“Because they are kids, Nathaniel,” Laura shrugged. “Shall we retrieve them, Tara?”

“Just make sure they don't fall on the way back,” Tara said, glaring at Nathaniel. “Apologize.”

“This time,” Nathaniel answered. “I'm sorry.”

He was already shaking his head as they walked down to the cafeteria. He wasn't exactly running, but his heart was hammering in his chest.

“Why the hell would she do that?” he asked mostly himself. “She never does things like that. She's never more than four feet from us.”

“She has to grow up some time,” Laura replied. “Besides, it's not like they are breaking curfew or snorting illegal substances. They went to the cafeteria for ice cream.”

“She can't have ice cream,” Nathaniel muttered as they entered the cafeteria. Sure enough, sitting at one of the side tables, drawing attention to themselves with IV poles and Sienna's hospital gown, she and Devon had ice cream between them. She wasn't eating any of it, but her hands were on her chin and she was watching Devon with a look that Nathaniel knew well. It was the same look that he gave Eliza pretty much all the time.

“Ahem,” Nathaniel said behind her, and she jumped about three feet in the air.

“Hey,” Devon looked up at Nathaniel. “What's up?”

“Seriously?” Nathaniel raised his eyebrow. Sienna leaned back against his legs, looking up at him. “What are you doing?”

“Hungry?” she tried, and he gestured at the table.

“I see that,” he said. “You can't just wander off like that, all right? Whose idea was this?”

Laura met Devon's eyes across the table. She did not seem anywhere as enraged as Nathaniel was. Devon shrugged.

“Is it okay?”

“For me, it's fine,” she replied. “But you really shouldn't just take off with someone ease's Tiro, Devon.”

“Sorry, I thought everything was all right,” Devon answered. “Next time, we'll tell you.”

“I don't think there's going to be a next time,” Nathaniel answered as he reached out to help Sienna. “Is that clear?”

She said nothing, silent and probably a little embarrassed. She was clearly unstable on her feet now, the short excursion not doing her any good.

“Yeah, back to the med bay,” Nathaniel said, casting a glance at Laura.

“I'll just stay until Devon is done,” she said, sinking into the seat Sienna had vacated. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Nathaniel replied, not blaming her. She smiled at him, and he managed to smile back as they headed off.

When they were gone, she turned back to Devon. He smirked.

“What?” he asked with a grin. “I'm pretty sure I've been going to get my own food when I was in the med bay since I was eight.”

“I know that,” she replied. “And I'm fine with you running off. But clearly, there are stricter rules for other people.”

“She wanted to go,” he said. “It's not like I dragged her.”

“I hope not,” she replied. “That girl is fragile, so don't do that.”

“Mmm,” Devon answered. “She's pretty neat though.”

“Oh?” Laura raised an eyebrow. “I see.”

“What,” Devon chuckled, and Laura shook her head.

“Just be careful,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm all right,” he answered, glancing up at his IV pole. “Obviously, I really wanted ice cream, otherwise I wouldn't be out in public with this.”

“Side effect,” Laura answered with a grin. “Ice cream craving was on the list.”

“I'm sure it was,” Devon said as he took the last bite. “I think she's figured it out, by the way. Ninety-nine percent of people don't know what Hydroxon is for.”

“She would,” Laura answered. “She lives her life in the medical system. Did you want her to know the gory details?”

“I don't know,” he answered, contemplating it. “Maybe I'm all right with it.”

“That's your choice,” Laura met his eyes. “I would never tell anyone if you didn't want me to.”

“I know,” Devon smiled. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Laura said as she punched his arm. “Let's go, eh?”

“Yep.” He finished and stood up, following her back to the med bay. As Maestros went, he was pretty lucky.

Chapter 6

“Where have you been?” Eliza asked when Nathaniel finally logged on a week later. Normally, they talked every night, or every second night. But for the past week, he had virtually been out of contact.

“Ah, I'm sorry, Eliza,” he answered. “It's been a crazy week.”

“It must be if you don't answer my calls or my messages,” she replied. She was wearing her crown, indicating to Nathaniel that she had just come from throne duty, which wasn't normal. Normally, she waited until she was dressed down and alone before she spoke to him. “Is Sienna all right?”

“Much better,” he replied. “She was released a few days ago, and I think it's under control.”

“That's good, because I need you.”

“Sorry?” He leaned forward. It was very rare that Eliza ever admitted any sort of need. “What's the matter?”

“I don't quite need you to rush out here on a quest,” she answered. “But there's been some odd things happening. Possibly magically.”

“What do you mean, ‘odd?’” he asked, his brow furrowed. He realized now that she looked a little bit frightened, which she normally never did. Eliza was always calm, cool, and collected.

“Do you remember my cousin Ladd?”

Nathaniel choked. “Your cousin Ladd, who we had to execute because he tried to kill you? And who kidnapped you twice in a row before you got the job done? Yeah, he vaguely rings a bell.”

“Right,” she paused. “You're going to think I'm crazy, but there have been sightings of him.”

“No,” Nathaniel answered. “You made sure he's dead.”

“I did,” she answered. “There was no doubt that he was dead. But people keep telling me they see him, they hear his voice in their ear. Is that possible? Some way between the living and the dead?”

“Uh…” Nathaniel bit his lip. “You mean, with magic?”

“I pretty much mean with anything at this point,” she said, leaning in.

“I need to look into it,” he answered. “I've never heard of it before, but that doesn't mean it hasn't happened. I mean, we only theorized that magic could resurrect before Sienna brought you back. And even now, she's the only one who can do things like that, as far as I'm concerned.”

“So, look into it,” she answered, and he noticed the desperation in her voice. “If there is something going on, I can't just let it go. I have to be sure.”

“Eliza, calm down,” he wished he was with her right now, able to wrap his arms around her and kiss the top of her head. Normally, he didn't mind the distance. But it was moments like this that he cursed it. He wanted so badly to comfort her, to stroke her hair. But Eliza was no ordinary woman; she was queen. “Is there any other information you can give me?”

“Nothing,” she said. “I just need to make sure that I'm not going crazy.”

“Have you heard him?” Nathaniel was almost afraid to ask.

She gave the slightest nod. “But I could have been dreaming,” she said.

“Increase your guard detail,” he said at once. “Take every precaution.”

“You think this is possible?” she asked.

“I don't know, but I'm not taking any chances.” He searched his mind. “A friend of mine – Laura – spent some time on the very outer rim with her Tiro. She was telling me about some beings out there who almost seemed to drift in and out of time and space. She's a diplomat, so working with beings who didn't recognize time presented challenges. I'll ask her if she's ever heard of anything like this.”

“Ask the whole planet,” Eliza answered. “So long as I'm not going crazy or seeing ghosts.”

“Please call me if anything else happens,” he replied. “Anything at all. I was distracted before, but I'll answer, I promise.”

“I will,” she said. They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, wanting to say more. But now did not seem the time for sappy romance or love stories. His heart was racing as he got up, disconnecting the video call. He wanted her to be safe, of course, and he wanted her to feel protected.

But this couldn't be possible.

A vague, sinking feeling entered his mind. The first time that Eliza had told him Ladd was dead by her hand had been a lie. She had kept him alive because he was the last heir to the throne, and an heirless throne was worse than a threatened one. She had lied to his face, and it had almost gotten her killed. Actually, it would have gotten her killed had Sienna been unable to save her.

She wouldn't do that again, would she?

Nathaniel shook the thought from his mind as he exited his room. It was past six p.m., and he was exhausted, but he stopped in Sienna's room.

She was curled up on her bed, typing on her tablet. It brought a smile to his face just to see her sitting there, breathing, looking up at him. He was reminded too often that she might not be there the next day.

“Hi,” he said. “I have to pop into the East Wing to see Laura for a few minutes. Do you want to come? If not, I think Desmond is just in the library.”

“Laura?” she put down her tablet. “Yes.”

He raised an eyebrow. She normally wanted to come with him, but once the sun set, she was content to just be still and quiet.

“Slowly, then,” he said as she got up. “Are you almost done with your homework?”

“Homework?” she answered. I was bidding for missions.”

“I'm sorry?” he looked at her like she had grown a third eye. “You literally just got out of the med bay.”

“I was bidding for missions that were weeks away,” she tried.

“No,” he said. “You'll leave the bidding to Desmond and me, who will decide when you are well.”

“I was only bidding on support missions,” she answered, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” That surprised him. Support missions were for teams of Maestros and Tiros. One was to lead while the other hung back on the planet, usually idle. Sienna never wanted to do those missions; she was shy, but she also wanted excitement. He was surprised she even knew how to get into that tab. “How come?”

“Oh, no reason,” she answered as they walked. He could tell she still wasn't quite stable, but she was improving.

“This wouldn't have anything to do with Laura's Tiro, would it?” Nathaniel asked.

“You aren't asking Laura something just because she's pretty, are you?” Sienna answered, and he choked. Her responses were never that witty or that quick.

“Sienna…” he said, and then realized she had read his thoughts. “It is not okay to invade my thoughts.”

“You sound like Desmond,” she answered, and he rolled his eyes.

“Desmond and I may be very different, but we do share basic opinions,” he said. “Don't read my thoughts.”

She was silent for a few moments as they walked, and then her jaw hung open. “You kissed her?!”

People actually turned around to look at them in the hall. Nathaniel took her arm, pulling her into an empty classroom so that they wouldn't get gaping stares.

“No,” he said through gritted teeth.

“But I saw!” She gestured. “I saw in your mind.”

“That was just in my mind!” he cried. “What did I just say about not reading my thoughts?”

“But…” She searched her shocked brain for the right words. “What about Eliza?”

“Sienna,” he said as he ran a hand over his face. “First of all, we shouldn't even be having this conversation, and I'm sure you are well aware of that. Second of all, I have eyes in my head. I can think Laura is pretty and accidentally imagine kissing her without it being a problem.”

“But what about Eliza?”

“Eliza is a galaxy away right now and she needs help,” Nathaniel said. “Which is why I'm going to ask Laura a question. Now, are you coming or not?”

She stood still, thinking. “How could you do that to Eliza?”

“I have done nothing to Eliza!” he cried. “They were thoughts, Sienna – nothing more. I'm sure Eliza has thoughts, too.”

“I'm sure she doesn't,” Sienna replied, and he rolled his eyes.

“I can leave you with Desmond in the library,” he answered. “Whatever he's doing is far less entertaining than what I'm going to investigate.”

“No,” she said. “No, take me with you. I will be quiet.”

“I don't need you to be quiet,” he answered. “I just need you to be less intrusive. Can you do that?”

She nodded, although he didn't believe her for a moment. And in a lot of ways, he didn't blame her. If he was that powerful, if it came to him that easily, would he be cautious with it? Or would he use his magic to make his life easier? Part of the reason her language had progressed as slowly as it did was because of her ability to read minds and bond with her Maestros. A witch's bond knew no language barriers, and so she had relied on them for years.

He had never seen her rely on anyone else or even be willing to go places with anyone else until that day with Devon in the cafeteria. And that worried him to no end.

“Good,” he said. “Stay close, then.”

They walked in silence for a few moments more, taking the shortcuts down the hallway to where Laura and Devon had rooms. The Academy was huge, and it was a maze for those who didn't know their way around. Connected by a seemingly never-ending loop of hallways and tunnels, an unsuspecting visitor could spend days lost inside its walls. But to Nathaniel, it was second nature to turn left or right. He soon found himself in the East Wing's common room.

Laura was curled up in a chair by the fire, paging through an old journal. She had an interest in history, as Nathaniel learned, and was always looking for journals and artifacts from the library that had not been properly documented or recorded. Devon was at the ping pong table with a peer, playing the game with just their magic. It was impressive, and an encouraged exercise to work on precision and timing.

Nathaniel let Sienna head toward the table as he got Laura's attention.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she said with a grin as she sat up. “Did you walk all the way from the West Wing just to see me?”

“I may have,” he answered. “If I tell you I did, will you reach back into your memory and answer some questions for me?”

She laughed. “You don't have to flatter me to ask for my help,” she said as she patted the seat beside her, “but I'll accept it.”

“Your eyes are like moonlight?” Nathaniel tried, and she smiled.

“What can I do for you, bearer of compliments?”

“Ghosts,” he said. “Possibly through a magical tunnel. Maybe time and space aren't relevant to them. Do you remember in the med bay, you were telling me about that mission you did on the outer rim?”

“Sure,” she said. “One of my favorites. Also, one of the most disturbing. I'm accepting of all alien forms, of course, but those were just eerie.”

“Time didn't matter to them, right?” he asked, trying to remember what she had said.

“They were both dead and alive – there and not at the same time,” she replied. “I mean, I was just there to talk trade negotiations with them, but wrapping my mind around what they believed and how they operated was half the battle…No, it was the whole battle. I eventually had to stop trying to understand it.”

“Can you tell me?” Nathaniel asked, sitting down. “I think it's going to help someone.”

“Sure.” She smiled as she watched Sienna flick the ping pong ball away from Devon. “Settle in.”

Chapter 7

“How did you meet her?” Laura asked, two hours later. Nathaniel had meant to just ask for advice and then go back to speak to Eliza. Instead, his conversation with Laura had spiraled into a conversation about everything imaginable. It was easy to talk to her; he didn't have to explain the things he had to explain to Eliza, like how magic made him feel or why he felt restricted at times. Laura understood with a simple look and a glance.

“A quest,” he replied with a shrug. “It was just supposed to be a normal quest, but it turned into something more.”

“Obviously much more,” Laura shrugged. “It's the way it goes sometimes. You won't be the first, and you won't be the last, I doubt. But is this something serious?”

“On and off,” he said as he sat back. “There have been disruptions in our lives, but it's steady.”

“Good for you,” she said. “The only thing that many witches stick to is their magic and their Maestros. Everything else is different from day to day.”

“Can I have credits?” Sienna was suddenly at his side, and Nathaniel looked up. He had almost forgotten that she was there, she had been so quiet. After Devon's ping pong game, they had settled down, presumably working on homework. He had barely looked up in an hour. He felt her – with his bond, of course – but she wasn't in distress, and so he didn't intervene.

“What do you need credits for?” he asked, confused. Witches were allotted a small amount of credits every month when they weren't on quests to pay for anything they deemed necessary outside of their needs that were taken care of at the Academy. Seeing as how they generally didn't subscribe to any outside methods of teaching, work, or material objects, they rarely needed them.

“Uh…” She looked back to Devon, who grinned.

“Pool.”

“Pool?” Nathaniel said in surprise “Like the game?”

“Royals in Center town has pool tables,” Devon said. “I thought ping pong was too easy; we should try pool without the cues.”

Laura clearly had no issue with her Tiro wandering into the city without her and heading to mainstream establishments. Nathaniel looked up to Sienna, assessing her color.

“You don't look well, little one,” he said, but she shrugged.

“It's just a short walk away. One game. I would like to try.”

“Let them try, Nathaniel,” Laura said to him, grinning. “Devon has been going on his own for years. It's good training for them to try their magic in a different environment.”

“I agree with that assessment,” Nathaniel said, taking out his com-link. He pressed a few buttons, transferring a minimal amount of credits over to her. “One game, you hear me? And if you don't feel well, you come back right away.”

“Yes,” she promised.

“And you call me if you need me,” he said.

“Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “One game.”

“I promise I'll take good care of her and bring her home soon.” Devon stood up, his hands shoved in his pocket. “You won't even notice she's gone.”

“I'll notice if it's anywhere close to ten o’clock,” Nathaniel said. “That's curfew.”

“Promise,” Devon said, and Sienna grinned up at him, in awe of how relaxed he was. Nathaniel was surprised by the request, because Sienna rarely wanted to be more than three feet from him or Desmond. But if she was comfortable, he wanted her to learn it was all right.

As soon as they were gone, he turned back to Laura whose eyes were sparkling.

“You don't normally do that, hmm?” she said.

“She did just get out of the med bay,” Nathaniel pointed out. “But no. We're–”

“Overprotective?” Laura teased, leaning back. Their tea mugs were empty, and she had an idea. “Do you want to go to my room for a moment?”

“Sorry?” Nathaniel said in shock. She couldn't possibly be as forward as she was coming off.

“Only that I have something a bit stronger than tea,” she said. “If you are game.”

He grinned. “I am game. Not for much, though. Technically on duty and all.”

“You're lucky,” Laura said as they rose. “I'm on duty with Devon twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. There is no off time, no break. The way the two of you do it, it makes it seem like having two Maestros is ideal.”

“It can be that,” Nathaniel answered. “Although, there are plenty of times where it's Desmond and I, and we still can't handle it.”

“It must be hard,” Laura said and touched his arm. “You're strong.”

“I…” He turned to meet her eyes and felt a shiver go down his spine. She had such beautiful eyes – so deep and soulful. They were locked in their gaze for a long moment, people swirling past them. “Thank you.”

“There's no sugarcoating here,” she said. “I tell it like it is, and I ask for what I want.”

It was the same kind of strength that attracted him to Eliza. A strong woman who knew where her heart and mind were was more attractive than any supermodel. It didn't help that Laura looked like a siren on top of her strength.

He was in trouble, and he knew it.

“Shall we uh…get the things? From your room?”

“Sure,” she said, with a little smile. “This way.”

***

Meanwhile, walking toward the city center, Sienna had Devon's arm in a similar style. It was her first time out in town without her Maestros, and she clung to Devon's arm as the people swirled around her.

“It's so busy,” she said as they walked.

“Well, you probably don't usually come out in the evenings,” he replied.

“No,” she said. “Never. Usually, just in the mornings for an item or a walk.”

“After sunset is the most fun,” he answered, slipping an arm around her waist for easier navigation through the crowds.

She copied his position, noticing that her hip bone fit perfectly into his side. She had never felt like this – so safe, so right.

“Oh…” Devon moved her hand gently, shifting it lower on his waist so that she was touching his hip bone. She looked up at him in confusion, having felt something bulge against his side – hard metal on the right side that jabbed at her fingers.

“What?”

“Just there,” he said, his face casual. But Sienna was smarter than that, even if she couldn't find the words. She put her hand back where it had been, tracing the hard, metal circle and then the light tubing that went from the bolt up to his chest. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes.

“You have a port,” she said in surprise.

He took a deep breath, trying to smile. “It's just temporary.”

“They don't put ports in temporarily,” she replied, trying to keep her voice low. “I know that.”

“There's no hiding anything from you, is there?” he asked, looking around. They were passing a park, dark and quiet as the citizens kept to the outside. The streets were noisy, but Devon could see a bench inside by the river that was secluded. “Come with me.”

She didn't question it, taking his hand as they walked through the grass. Once they were behind the trees, he sat. She followed suit, her eyes wide with questions.

“Why?” she asked.

He didn't meet her eyes. “Because I'm on a constant drip of Sarcodone.”

The name of the drug hit Sienna like a rock. She knew he was sick. She knew that he needed regular treatment, and she suspected she knew what it was.

But to feel the tube feeding constantly into his heart, keeping it beating – to know that he was IV'd constantly to battle the mutated cells in his body – was a whole other ball game.

A hundred years ago, Devon would be dead within three days. Today, she knew they could do much more for him. He'd have years, decades maybe, and they could manage it so he felt no ill effects; no pain as long as he lived. If he was without the drugs for too long, it would all come rushing back to him.

It was a fake life – a chemical life. He wouldn't feel his insides failing, his organs committing suicide, his heart faltering. He would feel none of it until the moment it was too late. They weren't curing him, just as they couldn't cure her.

Sienna had never felt so connected to anyone in her whole life. She lay her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed. She reached out for his hand, and he took it, using his other arm to stroke his head.

“It's okay,” he said. “You're the one with the short-end of the stick. I feel fine most of the time.”

“You shouldn't be going on quests like you do,” she said. “You could–”

“I know,” he answered, cutting her off. “But Laura and I made a pact. We would do as many as we possibly could and try to live a normal life.”

“That's why it's closed off to the Jurors,” she said. “They would pull you off quests for sure.”

“Probably,” he said with a shrug. “Which is silly because I'm just as capable as anyone else until the moment that I'm not.”

“Is that how it will be?” she tried to verify. Having spent her life in the medical system, she was strangely jaded by such talk.

“Likely,” he answered. “Hopefully, it's good timing.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, and he kissed the top of her head.

“Hey, we wouldn't have met otherwise,” he replied. She pulled her head away to meet his eyes, and she noticed their faces were inches apart.

She had never kissed anyone before; never even thought about it. She knew that her Maestros were not obedient of the rules, but she hadn't thought that life was going to be hers.

Most days, she didn’t even think beyond the next day, let alone how she was going to navigate the rest of the life she was given.

The kiss was everything she hoped it would be: short, sweet, and tingling. She pulled back after just a moment, terrified and yet excited.

Devon's eyes sparkled. “Is that all right?” he asked. She nodded wordlessly. “Have you done this before?”

She shook her head.

“Have you?”

“No, actually,” he said. “Believe it or not. There's just never been someone I felt connected to.”

“Connected,” she repeated, squeezing his hand. “Yes, that is the word.”

“The two of us against the galaxy,” he said. “They don't know what they are up against.”

“Mmm.” She closed her eyes, snuggling into him. The wind was cold, and she knew this was not appropriate. But just for one moment, she wanted to share her reality with someone who understood what it was like to fight on the most basic level. “Yes.”

“Come on,” Devon said, and pulled her up after a moment. “The pool table awaits.”

She giggled, willing to follow him anywhere. She had felt so alone, so out of step with her peers. But now that she found Devon, she felt like she could conquer anything, including a game she had no idea how to play.

Chapter 8

“All Juror members to the hangar. Repeat, all available Juror members to the hangar.”

Desmond and Mariah both dropped the books they were holding. The building announcement system rarely got used, if ever. And if it was used, it was usually for an all-building event that had been preplanned.

They had never, in all of Desmond's time, used it for an emergency broadcast. They were witches, able to predict and premeditate almost anything.

He grabbed her hand, feeling her panic as they came out of the rare books' section and tore down the hall. Desmond could see other Juror members taking up the call as well. The red warning lights flashed, indicating that they should follow them to the area of trouble.

“What's happening?” he asked Thomas, who was soon in step beside them. Mariah was keeping pace well, but he was worried that one misstep would send her flying. There were Tiros standing all around in shock as the Jurors ran, and Maestros not on the Jurors trying to figure out what they should be doing.

“I don't know,” Thomas said. Desmond usually resented his part-time position with the Jurors. He thought that he and Mariah received it simply by default because they were Maestros of a certain age, and it was expected.

Now, he was glad not to be left out of this chaos.

They had to put their hand prints into the scanner by the hangar – which was on lockdown – to gain access. The warning lights were flashing, and the alarm had begun to sound.

Desmond could only imagine what kind of threat was awaiting them inside. The school had never been attacked on a mass level; witches were always respected for their role in the galaxy. There had been a few rebels here and there, but nothing that couldn't be handled by one or two Maestros. In all his years, he had never seen the hangar locked down.

Inside, he couldn't believe his eyes. Sitting in the middle of the hangar, looking beat up but solid, was the Ronan.

Nearly twenty-two years ago, the Ronan had been involved in one of the biggest quests the Academy had ever taken on. Loaded with fourteen teams of Tiros and their Maestros, they had taken off for an entire solar system that was on the verge of destruction. A massive shift in atmosphere had meant the entire system was due to explode, and they were to gather as many survivors as they could.

The ship had made it only a few miles inside the perimeter when the solar system collapsed in on itself. The entire solar system had no survivors. Pieces of the Ronan had been found floating for years, verifying that those on board were gone. It had been the biggest tragedy to hit the Academy in centuries.

Desmond had felt the loss more than the others because his Maestro, Dorian, had been on board. Even fifteen years removed from him, he remembered the moment he knew his Maestro was dead.

He had been in the library with Mariah, just as he was today. It felt like a black hole had opened up in his heart that day, bringing him to his knees.

The feelings came rushing back as he stopped dead, staring at it.

“Desmond?” Mariah asked, confused. Without saying a word, he projected the image into her mind. Her jaw dropped. “How is that possible? Are you sure?”

“I doubt my own eyes,” he said as the witch in charge of the hangar approached. Taylor was barely a Maestro himself, and his Tiro beside him was a child. They looked shocked, indicating the sight in front of them.

“What happened?” Thomas demanded. “How is this here?”

“Maestro,” Taylor said, bowing his head, “I don't know. Vevo and I had our backs to the door, marking a parcel for delivery, and when we turned back, it was suddenly there.”

“It flew in without you hearing it?” Thomas asked in disbelief.

“No,” Taylor said. “The doors were closed. We only had our backs turned for one moment, nothing more. There is no way any ship, especially one that size, could suddenly appear. This is impossible.”

“Is it real?” Mariah asked. Desmond scanned the ship as thoroughly as he could. After Dorian had died, he had studied the Ronan extensively. He had learned every detail, every spec that he could, in the hope of finding some way that they could still be alive. Maybe there had been a small escape hatch, a transporter that could have been left intact – something. But the deeper he looked, the more dead-ends he found.

He had come to terms with the fact that his Maestro had been killed and he didn't get a chance to say goodbye.

“It's real,” he said, his voice shaking. “At least, from what I can see. No one could imitate that well.”

“Forget imitation,” Thomas said. “How is it possible that a ship could just appear like this? Doors closed, no one noticed?”

“Sir,” Taylor said, his voice suddenly shaking, “the doors are opening.”

There wasn't a Maestro in the room who didn't know what happened to the Ronan. They had all mourned the loss of so many souls on board who had left them in a blink of an eye. The tragedy had left everyone shaking, and it seemed that they all had a personal connection to the grief that was felt. So many had been promising leaders and pillars of the community. So many of the Tiros had been destined for greatness.

Of course, witches weren't immortal. They had lengthened lifespans, but they did pass away eventually. Becoming one with Nature, death was peaceful – a send-off into the magic that flooded their bodies. However, a life cut short and so unexpected was tragic – so much unrealized potential just gone.

“No one move!” Thomas cried out to the room, standing there in shock. “We don't know what we are dealing with! Arm up!”

The witches flicked their hands, gathering their magic as the door hit the ground. They stood in a defensive position, their knees bent and their shoulders flexed. They were ready for whatever was about to walk down the plank.

“Be on your guard! Be ready with the medical supplies! Just get them onto the ship!” came a voice from the Ronan.

Desmond heard the familiar voice, and his head nearly stopped. His knees went weak, and he dropped Mariah's arm as he took a step forward.

The footsteps coming down the platform took far too long. He stood, memorized, as first the white pants came into view, the black boots shining, and the black shirt, indicating a Maestro of high rank emerged.

And there, standing at the top of the platform, was Dorian.

“Maestro?” Desmond said, his voice quiet.

Dorian's brow furrowed. “Desmond?” he asked, looking around in confusion. “How are we…Aren't we…?”

The others rushed in behind him, ready to save lives. In uniforms that were years out of date, looking just as alive as the day they left, was the team that had left with such promise. The team that had died on the edge of the solar system with no chance at surviving.

“How is this possible?” Dorian asked, taking another step down. “Desmond?”

“I don't know,” Desmond answered, taking a step forward.

“You look…older…much older. Where am I?” Dorian's voice faltered, but Desmond didn't care.

He rushed forward, taking his old Maestro in a hug. “You're at the Academy. You're safe. You're alive. Although, you shouldn't be.” Desmond answered. Dorian looked incredibly confused.

“We were about to land, and then there was an explosion – a blackness. I thought we had made it. Are we…did we survive?”

“No,” Desmond answered, pulling back. “You did not survive the explosion. No one did.”

“Then…” Dorian would have thought they were playing a joke on him had it not been for the fact that Desmond looked many years older. “How am I here?”

“I don't know,” Desmond answered truthfully. “Please, come down, and we will find out together. Come down.”

Dorian said nothing, allowing Desmond to lead him by the arm down the platform to the hangar. They were surrounded by shocked faces, unable to comprehend what they were seeing.

“Mariah?” Dorian asked, reaching out. “Your eyes…”

“A long time ago, Maestro,” Mariah answered as she put out her hands. He took them, looking over her scars with a sad look on his face.

“I get the feeling that I've missed so much.”

“It's all right, Maestro,” Mariah answered. “We will figure it out. Come with us.”

Desmond moved forward only by sheer willpower. He heard the young, confused voices slowly coming down as they looked around.

They had died. There was no question about it. There was no conspiracy theory and no way around it. The ship's pieces had occasionally been accompanied by body parts and blood.

They were gone.

And now they were here.

“Get them to the med bay,” Thomas cried, trying to take control. “I want this hangar locked down and quarantined. No one comes in or out of here without proper authorization, is that clear? No one inspects this ship without the go ahead of the most senior Jurors. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Maestro,” came the chorus of confused voices. They started moving again, taking the hands of the recently returned, trying to explain.

Except no one could explain.

“I don't feel the med bay is necessary,” Dorian said, accompanied by Mariah and Desmond. “I feel fine; I really do. I'm just…oh my…”

The Academy had undergone significant changes over the year he had been away, and he recognized that it wasn't the same building that he left. Walls were different colors and whole wings had been built. None of this could be done in the three days he thought it had been.

“I don't know how this is possible,” Dorian turned to Desmond. “Have you discovered something to explain it?”

“No,” Desmond answered, “we have not. In case you haven't noticed, Maestro, we're all just as baffled as you are. This way.”

He guided him into the med bay ahead of the others. The doors swooshed open, and Tara turned around. When she saw Desmond, she rolled her eyes.

“Are you coming to explain why your Tiro missed an appointment?” she asked. “Because I don't have the time to make it up.”

“What?” Desmond asked in shock.

“She was supposed to come in this evening,” Tara said. “I told both you and Nathaniel that, so why…” Suddenly, her eyes fell on Dorian, and her mouth hung open. “Maestro Dorian.”

“Have we met?” Dorian asked, squinting at her. “You look familiar, .”

“We…” Tara swallowed. “We saw each other around. I was little more than a child when you…um…died.”

“Did I die?” he asked, confused.

“That's why we are here,” Desmond said softly. “Tara is the most advanced healer this facility has. If anyone can figure it out, it's her.”

“How is this possible?” Tara asked, shattering everyone's confidence in her. “I'm a healer, not a resurrecter. Don't look at me; I can't come up with an explanation. When did you get here?”

“A few moments ago?” Dorian asked.

Desmond took a deep breath. “Tara, there will be a large number of people here in a moment or so for you to access, so I suggest you get started,” he said. “Perhaps by taking vitals?”

“Right,” Tara snapped into medic mode, taking Dorian by the arm. Suddenly, what she said a few moments ago hit Desmond.

“What do you mean Sienna missed an appointment?”

“Exactly what I said,” Tara replied. “Did you forget?”

“Nathaniel is on duty,” Desmond said, glancing at the clock. “Damn it.”

“Well, I suggest you find her,” Tara answered. “You know what can happen if she misses a dose.”

“Desmond?” Dorian asked, and Desmond put a hand on his shoulder.

“Stay here, old friend,” he said. “Since you have left me, I have gained responsibility that I never thought I'd have. I'll explain everything when I get back.”

He was starting to feel overwhelmed by the tasks he had to do at the moment. Even explaining to Dorian what had happened to Reynolds and how Nathaniel and he had come to train Sienna seemed impossible. He wasn't even sure which door he wanted to exit the med bay.

“I'm coming with you,” Mariah said, taking Desmond's arm. “We'll figure all of this out together.”

He wanted to kiss her at the moment. He had never been so grateful for her companionship as in that moment.

Chapter 9

Nathaniel rolled off Laura with a lazy grin. He hadn't meant for it to go this far, but surely something that felt so good couldn't be wrong. It wasn't the first time he had been with a woman that wasn't Eliza, and he had needed it badly. She was good, and he knew it wasn't her first time either.

They didn't talk about how many times they had rolled into bed with someone else under the very nose of the Jurors. There was no need to explain the guilt, the need to keep quiet, or the silence as their magic intertwined. They understood each other.

“Well!” He sat up in her bed, taking a sip of the drink she had poured before straddling him. He wasn't drunk, but he felt good – relaxed, even. All the tension and the stress he had felt before now was gone, his body lose. “Wow.”

“Wow is right,” she said as she grinned, sitting up. “I know that was fast, but oh, Creator...”

“Next time won't be so fast,” he grinned at her. He knew he should get out of bed, pick up his shirt, and leave her room. But he wasn't sure he could stand straight, his legs still quivering. “That is, if you are interested in another time.”

“I wouldn't mind another time,” she said. “Were you thinking right now?”

“Ha,” he grinned. “I'm not seventeen. Give me an hour or so.”

“Mmm, I bet you were stud at seventeen.” She snuggled up to him. “Who can I ask for proof?”

“At seventeen?” he asked. “There was just the one.”

“Ah, the queen,” Laura rolled over to look into his eyes. “Is she going to mind that I've taken you to bed?”

“No,” Nathaniel answered. “I mean, we don't openly talk about it, but we also don't expect the other to act like monks. That would be unrealistic, given our situation.”

“Seems an odd situation to keep up with,” she said. “But more power to you.”

“I also don't…” He tried to put it delicately. “You know this is against the rules.”

“I didn't become a witch yesterday, Nathaniel,” she rolled her eyes. “I won't tell anyone.”

“And try not to think about it,” he said as he swung his legs out of bed. “Especially around my Tiro. Her ability to read minds is off the charts. She saw that I was thinking about kissing you in an idle fantasy earlier.”

Laura grinned. “You were thinking about kissing me?” she teased.

“It was just…you know,” Nathaniel blushed, “one of those things.”

“Obviously, I felt the same way,” she answered as she reached for her clothing.

Nathaniel chuckled, finally finding the strength to get dressed. His plan was to idly saunter out, perhaps head to the library, and then make sure Sienna was on her way back. He did not expect Desmond to suddenly invade his mind.

Where are you?

The force of the thoughts nearly threw him backward.

What's the matter? he asked, confused. Laura recognized the look on his face and knew he was speaking through a bond. She froze, waiting for him.

Where are you? Desmond repeated.

I'll be in the blue hallway in a moment. Nathaniel dressed as quickly as he could, buttoning up his shirt and sliding into his pants.

“What's the matter?” Laura asked, confused. Nathaniel shrugged.

“I don't know,” he said. “Desmond won't say. I hope it's not Sienna,” he said. “Shouldn't they be back now?”

Laura searched her mind, calling out for Devon. “Uh oh,” she said, and Nathaniel stopped.

“What?”

“Well, they aren't at the pool hall anymore,” she said. “I see…a park. It's dark.”

“Oh, my Creator,” Nathaniel growled as he pushed Laura's door open.

He came face-to-face with Desmond, standing there and looking entirely unimpressed. Desmond's thoughts were confused, bouncing everywhere. Nathaniel had never felt him in such a state.

“What's the matter?” he asked. Desmond opened his mouth, but apparently couldn't decide what was the most important thing. Behind him, Mariah filed in. She didn't have to have sight to know what Nathaniel and Laura had been up to.

“There's a situation in the hangar,” she said. “All witches are asked to return to the Academy immediately until we sort it out.”

“And our Tiro is MIA,” Desmond said. “Apparently, she missed an appointment with Tara.”

“I completely forgot about that,” Nathaniel said as Laura joined him, trying to look put together. “What situation in the hangar?”

Nothing prepared him for the story Desmond told him in half, shocked sentences.

“What?” Nathaniel asked as he finished. “No, how is that possible? It's not possible. This must be some sort of trick; some sort of illusion. Or there must be an explanation!”

“Nathaniel,” Desmond said. “One thing at a time. Where is Sienna?”

“With Devon,” Laura said. “They went to play pool in the city, but right now, I think they are walking in Swift Park.”

“They did what?” Desmond clearly did not agree with what they had been allowed to do. “Did you know?”

“I let her go,” Nathaniel answered. “I didn't see the harm in it – not for just a little bit. But how can the Ronan be back, Desmond? How can this be possible?”

“Nathaniel, if I had an answer for you, I'd give it to you,” Desmond replied. “Are you in the right state of mind to go get her?” He could smell the liquor on Nathaniel's breath, although his former Tiro did not seem incapacitated.

“Yes,” Nathaniel answered. “Laura, alert Devon that we are coming for them. Sienna probably won't answer me if she's distracted.”

“Distracted by the lovely duck pond?” Desmond raised his eyebrow. “I need to get back to the med bay if you two are going as well.”

“We'll bring them back safely,” Laura promised, and then gasped. Everyone froze.

“What?” Nathaniel answered as Laura shuddered.

“It's Devon. We've got to go now.”

“Why?” Nathaniel asked. “Are they in danger?”

“We need to go now,” Laura closed her hand over his, and Nathaniel didn't question it, following her out of the room. His head was spinning as he absorbed all the information they had been told.

“It's not possible that they are alive,” Nathaniel said. “Dorian was barely dead when Desmond came to me. Over the years, we went over the Ronan explosion again and again. There was no way out of it.”

“Every day, we discover that magic does something that we weren't sure of before,” Laura said. “It's possible this is a case of that. Fourteen teams of Tiros and Maestros – the magic on that ship would have been off the charts! Who knows what safety net they created for themselves; what protective spell that they could have put on at the last second?”

“That would have them missing all these years?” Nathaniel asked, and Laura tensed. “What's happening?”

“Sienna isn't in danger,” Laura assured him. “It's Devon. I think something isn't agreeing with him.”

“Laura,” Nathaniel felt intimate enough with her now to ask her what was happening. All the things that she had said before and the way she changed the subject whenever she was asked about Devon's tests – something wasn't adding up. “Are you in the same position as I am?”

He put it as delicately as he could, and Laura's eyes turned toward him. To his surprise, he found tears in them.

“Will I be a Maestro wandering in the dark in a few years, knowing that my Tiro will slip away before me?” she asked. “Yes.”

He heaved a great sigh. “I'm sorry.”

“No, no,” she wiped away her tears. “I shouldn't complain. You two have it worse. Devon's illness is known; he feels no pain most days. We have decided to act as normal, and continue until we can't. But you two…what you go through with her – I don't envy you.”

Laura squeezed his hand, and he sent thanks up to the universe that he had met her. “It's hard at times,” he said, “but it is worth it. Desmond and I have such different styles, and I think we want very different things for her future.”

“But you want her to have a future,” Laura said. “The same as I want for Devon, which is why I am not as strict on him as I should be. I just want him to be happy, regardless of what kind of witch he becomes.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Nathaniel replied, and Laura managed a smile.

“I guess we have a lot to learn from each other,” she said.

It wasn't far to the park, but Nathaniel's heart was nearly beating out of his chest as his mind swirled with the possibilities of what could be happening. He was so distracted that he bumped into someone on the street.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” he said, usually a graceful witch. But when he met the person's eyes, his heart stopped.

“Grego? Are you Grego?” He recognized the face of the alien staring back at him. Grego had been a CEO of half the construction operations in the city. He had been a quiet businessman who seemed to have it all. Until one day, he took to the top of one of his buildings and jumped.

The whole city saw what was left of him as the news crews struggled for the story. The galaxy covered it for months, trying to figure out why this being who had it all would end his life.

Why he had done it had never come to light. The only thing they were sure of was that Grego was dead – splattered across the payment.

Except that Nathaniel was staring at him right now.

Grego blinked twice at his name being called, and then he took off down the street. Nathaniel stood, stunned.

“What the heck is happening?” he asked Laura.

‘Nathaniel.’ Sienna's voice entered his mind then, frantic, and Nathaniel let Grego's face leave his thoughts. He and Laura took off in a jog toward the park, their breath coming out in gasps.

Nathaniel had been in the city center many times at night, and it was always crowded. But this seemed more chaotic than usual. Beings were walking around with dazed looks in their eyes, unsure of what was happening. Nathaniel had no doubt that half of them were dead.

They had to elbow their way into the park, calling out to their Tiros several times. Nathaniel eventually found Sienna huddled by the lake against Devon's arm. They were shivering, and the boy was holding his side in pain, his face pale.

Nathaniel rushed to Sienna, putting his arm around her as Laura dropped to Devon's side.

“What's happening?” Sienna asked, referring to Devon's pain. Nathaniel shook his head, bewildered.

“I don't know,” he said, as Laura triaged her Tiro. “I don't know. But we have to get you back, and now.”

Chapter 10

“It seems so many years have gone by, and yet it's still the same boy in those eyes,” Dorian said to Desmond with a small smile. He was hooked up to every monitor in the med bay that Tara could possibly find, but everything was coming back normal. At this point, all those who had seemingly returned from the dead were being monitored and given every test known to the Academy. It was going to be a long process, but if there was anything wrong with them beside the fact that they had just returned from a long death, Tara was going to find it.

Desmond was sitting by his side, the curtain drawn. There was so much noise on the other side of it as everyone moved about and tried to figure out what was happening. There was beeping, confused voices, and cries of surprise as more people were reunited.

“Mmm,” Desmond answered. “So much has changed, though. I don't feel like the same person.”

“What has changed?” Dorian answered. “If all this is true, then it's best I am up to date on it.”

“Uh,” Desmond answered, “that is many years of history, Maestro.”

“Indeed,” Dorian replied. “So start with the things that aren't. You and Mariah are still close, although I see that she has lost her sight.”

“Yes.” That was an easy one. “It was ten years ago, while on a mission. For a moment, it stopped her, but she has learned to adapt; learn to heal. She trains those who have lost their senses and has become a great resource to the Jurors.”

“Of course,” he said. “Mariah has always been destined for greatness. And Reynolds? Did he rise the way we thought he did?”

“Reynolds…” Desmond's mind flashed back to the last time he saw Dorian. Dorian had praised him for taking on Reynolds, the powerful boy who everyone thought would go on to do such great things. “Reynolds chose to rebel from me. He chose to use Acheronian magic when he was eighteen. Turned his back on the tests; turned his back on all of this.”

“Oh my.” Dorian shook his head. For a witch to choose the dark magic side instead of the Nature side that they chose was unforgivable. They used their magic for evil; they were shamed, and it left those who knew them heartbroken. “I am sorry.”

“He's still alive,” Desmond said softly. “Every morning, I check on him – just reach out to feel his signature. He is still somewhere out there.”

“It must have devastated you.”

“It did.” Desmond took a deep breath. “Had it not been for Mariah, I would not have survived it.”

“I am glad she is still a great support to you,” Dorian replied. “I am also glad that the Jurors have not threatened either of you for the support you give each other.”

“Maestro,” Desmond answered, “did you not always know me to be discreet?”

“Mostly,” Dorian said. “I also knew that tearing you away from Mariah was pointless, and I stopped trying to give you guidance in that area. You knew what you were doing.”

“Sometimes it seems that it's the only time I knew what I was doing,” Desmond answered.

“And where did you go after Reynolds?” Dorian prompted.

“Christa,” he smiled. “She lost her Maestro, and we found each other in a state of grief. She is a well-renowned pilot now.”

“A happy ending,” Dorian replied, “thanks to you.”

“From Christa, there was Nathaniel,” Desmond said. “Which brings us to the present day.”

“You are still training him?” Dorian did the math in his head.

“No. I picked up Nathaniel late in his life – at thirteen – and so he stayed with me late as well. I thought he would be my last. That Mariah and I would retire. She trained his best friend; those were the years.” He smiled in memories. “But Nathaniel was not quite ready to be independent, and we found Sienna together. You will meet them both. However, Sienna has the acridid gene. She also has enough power to blow the entire galaxy. So, you can imagine why the Jurors made a choice to let us both train her.”

“The acridid gene?” Dorian answered. “Your Tiro–”

“Should be dead,” Desmond answered. “But she is not, and we are coping. It's an effort, I grant you, especially at my age, but it takes a village as they say, and I have a village.”

“Well then, I should very much like to meet her,” Dorian answered. “I am proud of you, Desmond.”

Even though he must be confused, with a thousand thoughts running through his head, Dorian still managed to set Desmond's mind at ease. There was nothing like his Maestro's confidence to make him feel he could conquer anything.

It was with a calm demeanor that he approached Nathaniel that night after most of the Academy had settled down. Nathaniel was at his desk, looking tired, with papers spread out in front of him. Desmond could see from his monitor that he had tried to place several calls to Eliza, all unanswered.

“Hi,” Nathaniel said, pulling papers off his second chair so that Desmond could join him. “What's that like, having your Maestro back?”

“Exactly as you would imagine,” Desmond answered. “Disturbing, and yet calming at the same time. Are you writing a formula to figure out why it happened?”

“Nobody can figure out why a thing like that could happen,” Nathaniel answered. “So, at the moment, I'm grading mathematics quizzes and praying it distracts me. Eliza's not answering, and neither is the general palace line. It's worrying.”

“Perhaps she's busy,” Desmond replied. “It could happen, you know.”

“I know,” Nathaniel said. “It's just that she asked me to look into something, which is how that whole situation with Laura began.”

“Eliza asked you for something and you fell into bed with Laura?” Desmond raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I see.”

“Don't be like that.” Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “You don't know what it's like.”

Desmond crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair. “I don't know what it's like to manage an extremely difficult relationship that I'm not supposed to have?”

“No,” Nathaniel shot back. “You don't know what it's like to be with more than one person. To have that agreement. To manage that.”

“Which are not things we should know at all,” Desmond pointed out, and Nathaniel sighed.

They stopped moving as they felt Sienna shift in the next room. It was a momentary jerk – probably a bad dream – and she settled down easily enough.

“How is she?” Desmond asked, and Nathaniel sighed.

“She's fine,” he said. “Or fine for her, at least. She got a scare in the park, though. Laura's Tiro, Devon, is just as unwell as she is, apparently. His is known and better managed, so he slowly dies without feeling much pain, unless they make a mistake in meds, which they did tonight. He'll be fine, too, but she's traumatized by it.”

“And Laura takes warrior missions?” Desmond asked in shock.

“Until the day he drops dead on one,” Nathaniel said, shaking his head. “Not something I agree with, obviously.”

“But those things can be put aside when there are other matters,” Desmond replied, and Nathaniel rolled his eyes.

“It was once, all right?”

“Nathaniel, I am not the person to criticize you on this,” Desmond said, and leaned forward. “I am not your enemy; do not mistake me as such.”

“I know.” Nathaniel ran a hand over his face. “I'm sorry. You just…when you came to get me, I imagined the worst.”

“What is the worst?” Desmond prompted, trying to see where Nathaniel's mind was leading.

“That Sienna was dead,” he said and Desmond smiled.

“There was a time when that would not be the worst thing to you. You didn't want her, if I recall.”

“There was,” Nathaniel answered. “The worst thing in the world at that time would have been Eliza not calling me back. Now I know that she is just busy, and I spend the moments in between missed calls checking in to see if my Tiro is still breathing. Which, she is.”

“Life changes,” Desmond reminded him, thinking of his conversation with Dorian. “But the important thing to remember is that we are all still here.”

“Or here again,” Nathaniel answered. “I imagine the library will be quite busy over the next few weeks while people try to figure this out. Are they…I mean, they are being tested, yes? They are alive?”

“As alive as you and me,” Desmond answered. “He would like to meet you and Sienna in the morning. Do you have time?”

“To meet the man who trained you?” Nathaniel grinned. “Of course. I have many questions to ask him. And stories to share.”

“And if any of those prove embarrassing, I'm sure I can make sure you get a mission on a trash compactor,” Desmond grinned, standing up. “If I leave you to your proper duty tonight, will I trust that you remain alone?”

“You can,” Nathaniel said. “I promise. I'm tired. Although, you should know this thing with Laura is not serious. You know my heart belongs to Eliza. It's just nice to have someone to talk to who understands what we are going through.”

“Am I not enough of a conversation piece, Tiro?” Desmond questioned quietly. He wondered if he had failed Nathaniel, or had failed to be supportive enough.

“No, you are,” Nathaniel assured him. “But for lack of a better term, she's young, like me. Devon is also her first, and to know that we will lose them, that way…”

“But you don't know that,” Desmond said. “Anyone of us could drop dead tomorrow, Nathaniel. There's no use in thinking that way.”

“Mmm,” Nathaniel answered quietly. “I know. I just–”

“Don't dwell on it,” Desmond said as he got up. “We must live each day as if there is a tomorrow. As if Eliza will call you back tomorrow.”

“She better call me back tomorrow,” Nathaniel said, grinning. “I can't think of anything I did to make her mad.”

“Does she need a reason?” Desmond teased as he left Nathaniel's room. “Mariah doesn't.”

“Can I tell Dorian?” Nathaniel asked. “About Eliza? I assume that's where you learned your own walking of the grey line from.”

“You can tell him,” Desmond answered. “And he will be supportive, but he does not share the sentiment. I did not learn it from him; he did not endorse such a relationship. It just happened.”

“Well, at least he won't cut my head off,” Nathaniel answered. “I look forward to meeting him. Get some sleep.”

“And you,” Desmond replied as he left. It wouldn't be an easy night, but he felt safer and calmer than he had in a long time. His Maestro was back, his Tiro wasn't in the med bay, Mariah was meeting him for breakfast, and the Academy was not in danger.

Despite the chaos and uncertainty swirling around him, it didn't seem like a bad night at all.