Chapter 14
Sienna wasn't brave enough to take Devon's hand as they walked down the street, but he took hers. She glanced at him, surprised.
“What if people see?”
“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “Your Maestro takes Mariah's arm all the time. No one says anything.”
“That's because she's blind,” Sienna pointed out. “He's helping her. Everyone knows that.”
“Sure,” Devon answered with a smile. “And everyone knows that you're sick. That's not a secret.”
“So are you,” she said quietly.
“But not everyone knows that. Or anyone, mostly,” he answered. “So, to everyone who knows us, I'm just being a big, strong man by helping you.”
She giggled and squeezed his hand.
She felt so normal walking down the street with him. Those who didn't know they were witches would never guess they were anything but a normal couple spending the afternoon together.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, and he pointed ahead.
“Just there. See the yellow sign?”
“Yes,” she said, squinting into the distance. “What kind of place is it?”
“It's just a diner,” he said. “Don't worry. I'm not taking you anywhere questionable.”
“I…Duck!” Sienna suddenly yanked Devon to the side as a few droids barreled toward them at high speed. They startled a flock of birds, and she screamed as she saw two get run over. She and Devon had moved at just the right time, barely an inch from the heavy droids.
It was nothing to be concerned with as a group of kids their age ran after them in alarm. Clearly, playtime had turned dangerous, and by the look of those droids, they weren't toys.
“Yikes,” Devon said. “You saved my life.”
“No,” Sienna shrugged. “You would have jumped.”
Her attention, however, was distracted as she felt a life force start to beat out. She turned toward the flock of birds who were gathering around their fallen friends.
“Oh,” she squeaked as she moved forward. Sienna was so small and so gentle that the birds didn't seem to think that she was a threat at all. Her magic was dancing on her fingers, and Devon was about to call her back to tell her that she couldn't do anything. There were two birds lying on the ground, one half crushed and the other still breathing. It wasn't exactly a pretty sight, and he reached for her shoulder. She crouched down, biting her lip. “No.”
“Sienna,” he started, as she put her magic hands toward the one that was still breathing. It looked frantic and afraid, and yet the light was leaving its eyes. “You can't.”
She turned her head left and right, and then her eyes landed on a patch of flowers.
She knew that she shouldn't do this. She should respect Nature, for it is what gave her the power that danced in her hands.
But it was because of her respect for Nature that she tried to look for a justification. Surely, when there was so much Nature, they wouldn't mind if she took a few flowers from the ground so that this bird could live.
“Sienna,” Devon said, but she closed her eyes, pulling the life force from the flowers.
The bird let out one final chirp and then stopped breathing. It's body deflated, and it flopped to the side.
“No!” Sienna cried, leaning forward. He could physically see the magic dance over her, coming directly from the flowers. They withered in front of him and then drooped, shriveled.
She felt it flow through her and into the bird. In front of Devon's very eyes, to his shock, the broken legs healed, and the bird soon popped up onto its feet, chirping.
He knew what she had done, but he couldn't believe it. That wasn't supposed to be possible.
He heard rumors of what she did with the Queen of Jeffro, but he wondered how much of it was true.
She leaned back, wavering, her breath coming in gasps. She put a hand to her chest, and Devon crouched down, giving her support.
She was in pain. That much was clear. Her fist clenched, and she tried to ride it out.
“Hey, it's okay. It's okay!” He put his arms around her, trying to make sure she stayed conscious. He leaned back and then jumped. He felt a ring of power jump, and time itself froze for a moment.
The other dead bird beside him suddenly moved. It inflated, as if it was never crushed, and slowly rose.
It was confused, looking around. The rest of the flock surrounded it, chirping like mad.
Devon watched, his mouth hanging upon. Maybe Sienna had healed the bird that was just barely dead. There was no other explanation for this, except that it had returned from the dead and done so without her direct touch.
She buried her face in Devon's chest, trembling. He couldn't properly form words as he tried to make sense of what happened.
Suddenly, Desmond was beside them, crouching down. “Sienna, I told you not to do that.”
“Sir!” Devon jumped a few feet in the air. He wasn't sure whether to pull his arms away from Sienna or not, blushing and avoiding Desmond's eyes.
Luckily, the older Maestro didn't seem to be there to scold. “Little one,” he said as he touched her shoulder, and she went toward him, still trembling. “Oh, dear.”
“She just…” Devon said, stuttering. “The bird. The other bird. Dead. So dead.”
Desmond let out a long breath, making sure Sienna stayed upright. He only needed to glance at the flowers to know what happened. The withered apples from Eliza's deathbed on a concrete floor remained in his memory, his jaw equally agape at the time. Since then, they had stopped Sienna from fighting death at every opportunity. She had been so weak after bringing Eliza back all those years ago that they were worried another attempt would kill her. A bird was different from a person, of course, but it was still a risk.
“Are you supposed to do that?” Desmond asked her, and she shook her head meekly. She didn't seem to be able to speak, her jaw clenched. “Why not, hmm? Is this why not?”
She nodded, and he sighed.
“Well,” he said at last, “at least you remember how bad it is. Are you all right, Devon?”
“Yes,” Devon answered, leaning back to sit on the grass. He was torn between being confused and concerned. “Yes, I…how?”
“Sienna is very powerful,” Desmond answered. “But that much power has compromises.”
“I understand the one bird,” Devon said. “But how did you do the other one?”
She pulled her head from Desmond's chest, pale as a ghost. Despite how she was feeling, she still managed to look confused.
“One,” she said, pointing to the spot where she had resurrected the poor creature.
“Yes, that one,” Devon answered. “But there was another one over here, remember? It wasn't even a bird anymore, and yet it just got up and walked away.”
“No,” she said, confused as her head turned toward the spot. “Oh. There was one there.”
“Well, no wonder you feel so sick, if you resurrected two,” Desmond answered.
“She didn't even touch it,” Devon said. “It was osmosis.”
“Well, two birds will probably bring you a worm in the morning.” Desmond smiled at her. “But you can't do that, Sienna. Not now. One day, we will learn how to control your powers without making you sick. But until then, you have to take care of your gift. If you lose yourself, you won't be able to help anywhere. Do you understand?”
She blinked, looking away, and he switched methods.
‘There will be no one to bring you back, little one, if you push too hard.’
Their bond always hit her harder than words, and she looked up, seeming to understand. Her noticed the dampness of her forehead and wondered if she was running a fever again. Regardless, he knew they were in for a tough few days. She would be wrecked from this encounter, and it wasn't the best timing.
He very rarely got angry, and he wasn't about to discipline Devon, especially when he was trying to keep Sienna's vitals at the front of his mind. But he needed to get the message across, and he wasn't sure Laura was going to do so.
“Devon, have you done your medic's training yet?” Desmond asked. Devon's eyes widened, and he shook his head.
“No, sir. The basics, yes, but I'm not on track to be a medic.”
“I know you have experience,” Desmond said quietly, “but you are not training for the medical field at all?”
“No,” Devon answered. “My Maestro is a diplomat. So, if I get there, that's probably what I'll be.”
“Ah,” Desmond said. “So, you have no supplies and no training if she were to seize, if she were to crack her head, if she were to stop breathing?”
“No, sir,” Devon replied.
“This is why Sienna is watched over as closely as she is,” Desmond said, pulling her trembling body closer. She was warmer by the second, and he feared where this was headed. “There are no medicines, Devon, like there are for you. There is no cure – no relief for the pain. You are lucky. No one has ever told you that, have they?”
“No,” Devon admitted.
“This is not lucky. Never forget that,” Desmond said, as he adjusted his position. He knew she was going to seize; he had seen it enough times. For her sake, he hated that it was going to be in public, on the side of the road, but they had no choice.
Her body jerked back, and he managed to get her onto her side before the seizure took its effect. He had been through so many of them in the past few years, keeping his mind locked on hers, making sure she wasn't hurt. Devon moved forward, but Desmond put his hand out to stop him. With a bit of sadness, he noted that the boy didn't look scared, just concerned. But then, one who had grown up in the med bay and who had a permanent IV probably was jaded.
None of these kids should be jaded by these things, Desmond thought, even as he held Sienna in place. Why? Why them?
“Can I do something?” Devon answered. “Will she be all right?”
“No,” Desmond answered, although he half felt like he was lying. “Just sit there and wait. You can't do anything.”
“She should have help,” Devon said. “I mean, I should have seizures, too, but–”
“But those medications will likely kill her,” Desmond said. “Anything she does not suffer from is because Nathaniel and I have figured out on our own. The rest her body goes through because it's better than medications, which cause her acridid gene to rage harder. You can't begin to imagine how complicated this is.”
“No,” Devon answered quietly. She was still now, and he reached out to squeeze her hand. “I'm sorry.”
Desmond sighed. “There is nothing to be sorry about, Devon,” he said. “Perhaps you just had to see this to understand that the life you seem to want to live is not one Sienna can be involved in.”
Devon felt his stomach sink. “You don't want us to be friends?”
“I don't want her to be hurt.” Desmond met his eyes, the double meaning thick in his voice. “Is that clear?”
Devon said nothing to that, sinking back onto his heels.
This was more complicated than he thought. But it didn't change the way he felt about her or the way he loved her laugh and her smile.
And it didn't explain how a bird that was nothing but a puddle of organs came back to life, without so much as her touch.