Chapter 16
Nathaniel put his hand to the ground, his face baffled. If she was doing what she claimed to be doing, it would have displayed an amazing amount of strength. Of course, witches could recognize the signature of other life forms. But for them to be walking on a tarmac and Sienna to just pick up on it was something that displayed a high amount of strength. Which, he reminded himself, she did have. That was what was killing her.
“Nathaniel?” Desmond asked, pausing. Nathaniel gritted his teeth as he tried to think. This was nearly impossible.
“I don't know,” he said at last. “I don't know.”
Desmond crouched down, touching his shoulder.
“Try to focus,” he said. “Block out everything else, and just focus on the ground below. What do you feel?”
Nathaniel took a deep breath, fighting through not only the hangover that was threatening to destroy him, but also the fact that the tarmac was at least a foot of solid concrete. He closed his eyes and tried to block out everything else around him.
“Maybe,” he said. “I'm quite sure there is a life force down there, but whether or not it's Eliza's…there might be some similarities.”
“Yes,” Sienna picked up on that word. “Similar.”
“What's down there?” Nathaniel got up, grabbing an airport employee with force. The man looked startled to have his elbow grabbed and shook away.
“Sir.”
“What's down there?!” Nathaniel pointed to the ground. Luckily, Sienna was calmer than he was, and she stepped in. She was adorable when she wanted to be and had a conversation with the guard, emulating a curious child.
“Still regret the choice?” Desmond asked Nathaniel, keeping his voice low.
“Her translation is very useful,” Nathaniel admitted. “As is her attitude”
“Ah, a Tiro who may be useful beyond being a witch?” Desmond teased him, and Nathaniel rolled his eyes.
“You made your point.”
“I'm not trying to make any point,” Desmond replied. “I'm simply speaking words.”
“Oh, that's what you're doing,” Nathaniel answered. “You aren't making underlying points about the fact that I've been making stupid choices since you proposed taking her on.”
“We all make bad choices,” Desmond said. “All we can do is make better ones in the future.”
“Hmm,” Nathaniel answered as Sienna returned to them. “Well, what did he say?”
“There are…holes,” she said, and reached out for Nathaniel. ‘Old Tunnels.’
“No longer in use?” he asked, and she nodded.
“So, it's possible that someone is hiding something,” he said. “The thing is, the more I feel it, the more I'm not sure it's Eliza. It does feel similar enough to investigate, but something is different.”
“Look,” Desmond pointing off the platform. On the grassy field were several hills. They were small, but he could tell they were man-made. “Sienna, did he say whether the tunnels were still in use?”
‘Old,’ she communicated.
“Old,” he said, and she repeated the word. Desmond nodded and headed over. Nathaniel noted the teaching style, noting his Maestro's patience despite the urgency of the situation. He was starting to see that there was always time to teach the Tiros. Desmond had done the same to him, and half the time, he hadn't even noticed he was being taught.
No one seemed to pay any attention to them as they moved through the hills. This part of the airfield was abandoned, and the grass was overgrown. Whatever the tunnels had been used for, they were long since forgotten about.
“There used to be an entrance here.” Nathaniel found one that had been cemented over. He could trace the crack in the door with his hands, although it looked old. “There must be more.”
“Split up,” Desmond ordered, pointing in different directions. “Shout out if you find–”
“Maestro!”
Sienna's strength in magic became clear when she found the open door before either of them. She had simply sent out a ping that was stronger than either of them. She leaned against the half open doorway as they came over, and Desmond's brow furrowed.
“Are you all right, little one?”
She nodded, putting her hands on her knees as the color drained from her face.
“Oops,” Desmond said as she stumbled forward. He caught her, feeling her heart beat rapidly against him. “Hold on a minute. Breathe.”
He expected protest from Nathaniel and was ready to defer to him. But Nathaniel crouched down, waiting patiently. He even looked concerned, reaching up to her neck to check her pulse.
“Just breathe, Sienna,” Desmond said. She twisted in a way he recognized from raising many children, and he got out of the way just in time for her to lean over and throw up. “Or not.”
“Why is she doing that?” Nathaniel asked, putting his hand on her small back. “Is it that we are amongst nature? Could her system be that reactive?”
“I don't know,” Desmond admitted. “There has to be a pattern, but we haven't seen it. It wouldn't take a great amount of magic to ping like she just did, even if she's better at it than we are.”
Nathaniel gave a brief smile, but he was clearly thinking about the pattern between her illness and the rest of the world. What was happening, and how could they make it better? She had such a bright future ahead of her, if they could just figure out how to get her there.
Eventually, Sienna recovered, and the color returned to her cheeks. She straightened up and indicated that they should continue.
Inside, the tunnel was pitch black. Desmond whisked his hands to create a ball of light, ready to extinguish it at any moment. From the light, they could see that the tunnel ahead was full of twists and turns.
There was old, rusted equipment piled everywhere, and old lights on the wall. He looked around as they walked slowly, careful of their footing. No one said a word, listening for sounds as they walked in a straight line.
Nathaniel stopped them suddenly, bending down to the ground. For one moment, Desmond was worried he was going to throw up again. It certainly had been a day of expelling bodily fluids, which, he thought with a sigh, was not something they warned you about when taking on a Tiro.
But it was a fresh footprint that Nathaniel had found. The edges around it were still wet with recent mud, and there was a trail of them leading off to the left path of the tunnel.
‘Two,’ Sienna flashed, finding a second set of footprints. Desmond noted that the set was slightly smaller.
“Three,” Nathaniel whispered, as he realized that some of the footprints were different. There were three sets, two side-by-side, and one slightly ahead.
Desmond reached out, touching one of them. He was trying to see if there was a life force still attached to them, trying to get an image in his mind. But he couldn't feel anything, meaning they were slightly too far behind.
“Ping,” he told Nathaniel, and Nathaniel took a deep breath, focusing to make his magic invisible. He sent it forward to the tunnel. It returned after a moment, and his eyes widened.
“There's something that feels like Eliza's,” he said. “But not quite. It's that way, though.”
“Let's go, then,” Desmond straightened up. He only got a few steps forward before he remembered that he wasn't alone. Turning to his side, he put his hand on Sienna's shoulder.
‘Behind me,’ he said. ‘In front of Nathaniel.’
‘But…’ she started. ‘I'm strong.’
“Yes, little one, you are very strong,” he said. “But you aren't trained, not yet. I am not treating you differently than any other Tiro of your age. Nathaniel and I will do battle if we have to. You defend yourself.”
Whether or not she understood his words didn't matter; she understood the meaning. She slunk between the two of them, and they continued to walk.
It was around the next bend, that they heard a noise. They stopped moving at once and heard footsteps slowly coming toward them.
Desmond tensed and indicated they should press up against the wall as he held his breath.
The footsteps came closer, and he stored magic in his fingertips. He had no idea what they were facing, and it was the worst kind of threat.
He trusted Nathaniel, beside him, to act as an extension of himself. It had taken a long time to get Nathaniel to behave that way, but now, he didn't even have to think. He would move left, and Nathaniel would cover his left.
The footsteps were about to round the corner when he felt a magical ping. They were trying to recognize him, and he resisted it. But it meant that there was a witch around the corner, and that baffled him.
He jumped forward, his hands tense. Nathaniel led the way, ready to fire.
Sybil and Kierry came into view in the exact same position.
Nathaniel dropped his hands right away, his eyes wide in shock.
“What are you doing here?” he hissed. Sybil raised an eyebrow.
“I'm on a quest. What are you doing here?”
“I'm…oh, Creator.” Nathaniel shook his head as he embraced his friend. “Everyone thinks you're dead.”
“Kierry,” Desmond said, greeting Sybil's young Tiro. She was only a few years older than Sienna, but she was clearly stronger, and ready for fighting. Kierry raised her chin, showing off a bruised face. “Do you need medical attention?”
“No,” Kierry replied. “I am fine.”
“Why didn't you call in?” Nathaniel asked Sybil, grateful that she alive at all.
“Because when tracking a hitman, who is used to tracking people, one doesn't give their position away,” Sybil replied. “I thought the Jurors would have more faith in me.”
“They did,” Nathaniel said. “But it's been too long. Are you even supposed to be here?”
“Considering the hitman is the first cousin of the Queen of Jeffro,” Sybil said. “They should have expected it. Sorry. I wanted to tell you, but you know I couldn't.”
“That must be the life force I'm feeling,” Nathaniel said. “Her cousin would feel similar. I knew they were trying to kill her; it was the best theory.”
“I've been tracking him for days,” Sybil said. “But they are a whole network, and it's not easy. They keep changing places and swapping out their lead man.”
“Do they have Eliza?” Nathaniel asked frantically.
“The queen is missing?” Sybil asked, and then realized what had happened. “Probably. A few days ago, we detected that they added another person to their party. There's only one down here, but he's the ringleader. If we get him, we will get the rest.”
“The Jurors needs to understand what classified quests might relate to each other,” Desmond shook his head. “This is typical.”
“I'm not surprised,” Sybil gave him a quirky grin. “But we can stick it to them when we get back.”
“Mariah's sitting on the throne right now,” Desmond put in. “So, the first thing you'll do is see her. And then we can stick it to the Jurors.”
“Sorry, Sybil. I love you,” Nathaniel said, “but why are we just standing here?”
“The tunnels are a dead end,” Sybil said. “We turned back when we felt you coming in, to take care of the threat. But the rat is at the end. He's not going anywhere.”
“You're sure it's a dead end?” Nathaniel asked, and Sybil raised an eyebrow.
“How little faith you have in me,” she answered. “Are you all in fighting form?”
“Yes,” Desmond answered. “You have a strategy?”
“Not with this many of us,” Sybil gave him a wide grin. “If it was just Kierry and me, we might have to fight. But with this many of us, my job becomes a lot easier. Kierry, on point?”
“Yes,” Kierry said, moving ahead of the group. Nathaniel exchanged a glance with Desmond as the young Tiro lead the way. They didn't need to look at Sienna to see the differences between the two girls. Their Tiro was probably never going to be able to lead them like that, and they had to come to terms with it.
“It's about half a mile,” Sybil said as they walked. “I can feel him at the end. He's armed with two guns at least.”
“No problem,” Nathaniel answered. “Deflecting actual bullets is my favorite bit. The look on their faces…”
“And we will be martyrs,” Sienna suddenly blurted out. Everyone turned to her, startled.
“Heroes,” Desmond corrected her. “She means heroes. Sienna, we've talked about this.”
“Let us hope she means heroes,” Sybil answered. “Unless she somehow knows something we don't.”
“Uh...” Nathaniel answered, realizing that he had never quite thought of the full extent of her powers. Sienna could do things that they couldn't, and they came easy to her. What if her powers were beyond the extent of what they could imagine? Seeing the future was a very rare skill, and it usually came in very blurred flashes to the most powerful and practiced witches. “Probably not.”
“You always were good at reassuring people,” Sybil gave him a look as they rounded the last bend.
And there, before them, Nathaniel recognized Ladd, Eliza's oldest cousin, and technically the current heir to the throne. Ladd, who Eliza had assured him was dead.