Chapter 3
“Are you ready?” Nathaniel asked her, and she nodded. “1-2-3.”
She sprung into action, moving across the ship and up into his arms, where his arms supported her as she pushed into a brief, but perfect handstand. She had taken on much more physical training since they had blocked her magic, enabling her to put to use what she had learned over the years by watching classes she was too ill to participate in.
Neither of them mentioned that the next step for a witch of her experience would be to levitate. Instead, she held her position a moment or two, and then slowly lowered down until she was on her feet again.
“Not terrible,” he said, rotating his shoulders. “But are you afraid to flip through?”
“Yes,” she answered. “I only just started doing that.”
“You just use the same momentum,” he said. “And if you're off-balance, you…” he stopped himself, realizing what he was saying.
“You what?” she replied. “You use magic?”
“Sienna,” he lowered his voice.
“No, it's all right,” she replied, as she glanced at the clock. They had been in the air for only two hours, but it felt like forever. “It's true, isn't it?” She ran a hand through her hair. “And I have to get used to it.”
“It won't be forever,” he reassured her. “We'll find a way. We'll figure it out.”
“But if you don't?” she asked, and he met her gaze.
“We will,” he said. Her eyes flickered away from him, and he felt Desmond enter the room, the ship finally set on course. Nathaniel used to hate autopilot because he loved flying. In the first few years with Sienna, he rarely took a chance with it, knowing it wasn't as fast as a magical reaction. But these days, he couldn't sit behind a console for twelve hours. The idea that he wasn't so young anymore only slightly bothered him. “Maestro,” Nathaniel turned, trying to act as if all was well. “All set?”
“Yes,” Desmond said, glancing at the clock. “Sienna, aren't you to attend a lecture by conference now?”
“Oh.” She paused. “I thought….
“It's important that you take classes as long as you can, and miss as little as possible,” Desmond said. “We may be on a quest right now, but we aren't focused on the clients, and so you should use that to your advantage.”
“But—” She knew this was what was supposed to happen, but they weren't strict on it, by any means. At least, not until recently. Desmond had been so pushy of late, making sure she was up to date on classes.
“Please, Sienna.”
Nathaniel quirked an eyebrow.
“Maestro, don't you think she should focus on training here, with me? Or the briefing notes for the quest?”
“Not right now,” Desmond replied, and his word was law. She bowed her head, and left the room, leaving Nathaniel perplexed.
“What was that about?”
“Exactly as I said,” Desmond replied. “She should not be missing classes if she doesn't have to. One never knows wen that information is going to come in handy.”
“Not that I disagree,” Nathaniel answered. “But…”
“Who knows if quest experience will even come in handy for her?” Desmond asked and Nathaniel’s blood ran cold.
“Maestro, what are you saying?”
“Nothing,” Desmond said, but Nathaniel knew him better than that.
“You don't see her future anymore.”
“I do see her future,” Desmond answered. “But I don't know if it's with the witches. In any case, Nathaniel, this is not a matter for us to discuss currently. We are headed on a quest. We will be working hard. And she will be working as a witch, no matter what I feel at the moment.”
“Desmond, we're going to find a way,” Nathaniel answered. “Don't talk like this. Don't give up. You haven't been the same since Reynolds reappeared.”
Desmond's head spun around and he stared his former Tiro down.
“No. This has nothing to do with Reynolds”
“I know you better than that.” Nathaniel circled him. “You're afraid of what people will say. The great warrior Desmond, with one Tiro gone, another far too old to have been training, and a third that loses her magic.”
“Nathaniel, I have never cared what people think,” Desmond answered. “I'm just trying to get us both to be realistic about the situation.”
“To what end?” Nathaniel asked, but Desmond had no answer to that. Nathaniel backed down, tucking his hands in his pockets. “I think I'll go watch her lecture with her.”
“Nathaniel,” Desmond called after him, but he was already gone.
The older witch sighed, shaking his head as he closed his eyes. He had been in difficult situations before, but this was by far one of the worst. This limbo was eating away at his soul, and he could get no answer, no matter how hard or long he lost himself in the magic.
He didn't see Sienna until she joined him in the cockpit in the last half hour of the flight, tucking her thin legs under her. She had changed into the robes that the witches wore when they were on a quest, earth green for Tiros, and dark brown for the Maestros. Her black leggings and boots only made her seem more fragile as her hair fell in her face. She said nothing, staring into the blackness and Desmond smiled.
“I'm not angry at you, little one. I don't know why you think that.”
“How did you know I was thinking that?” she asked, turning to him in shock. “We aren't bonded anymore.”
He chuckled. “I don't need magic to read you, Sienna. You used to do that when you were a child, slink in and sit quietly until things were no longer tense. It's a skill you have, defusing any situation with simple silence. But in this case, there is nothing to defuse.”
“You've seemed angry at me these past few days,” she answered and he shook his head.
“I'm not angry,” he repeated. “You need not worry. Here,” he took his hands off the wheel, “you can land.”
“From here?” she asked, indicating her co-pilot position. He nodded, shifting the control to her. Biting her lip, Sienna focused on the console for a moment, learning the buttons. Then, she moved over a few buttons, keying in a landing sequence.
It popped up on Desmond's screen, and he only had to glance at it to know it was right. Since she had learned piloting from Christa, she had taken to it amazingly well, picking up the procedures of nearly any craft. It was one of many options he thought she could make a career of without magic.
Without even being a witch.
The thought thundered through him so strongly that he felt chills going down his spine. He made sure to glance out the window, to hide his reaction. Normally, his thoughts were concealed. And although he had been circling around this one for quite some time, it seemed earth-shattering to think those exact words.
“Maestro,” Sienna caught his attention and he turned back, pretending to have gained a great deal of interest in the clouds. “Eliza is hailing us. Should I answer?”
“Of course,” he replied. “You always answer a hail from a planet that you are legally allowed to enter.”
Her fingers hovered over the button.
“And if we aren't?”
“Then you turn on your shield,” he said and she laughed as she answered.
“Hello,” Eliza's smooth voice came through. “You made good time.”
“Nathaniel was eager to leave right away,” Sienna said in Jeffroian, a cheeky grin on her face. Desmond wasn't versed in Jeffroian, their native tongue, but he knew her expression well enough to scold her.
“Sienna,” he warned and she sat up a bit straighter.
“Can we do the back hanger?” she asked Eliza, who paused.
“Come around the front,” she said at last. “We will be leaving right away.”
“Leaving right away?” Desmond said in shock. “I was under the understanding that you had a few days before you wanted to leave, your highness.”
“That was twelve hours ago, Desmond,” Eliza said. “Things have changed.”
“I can't keep up with you, Eliza,” Desmond answered. He had known her since she was Sienna's age, and although she and Nathaniel were both strong adults, they would always remain flirting teenagers to him. “Is there an emergency?”
“I just want to get to the negotiations,” she said. “Is it a problem?”
“No,” Desmond answered. “It's a good ship. We should be fine with a quick maintenance run.”
“There's no time,” she said. “Can you make it or not? Where's Nathaniel?”
“Probably asleep,” Desmond answered. “You can talk to him when we land.”
“I won't talk to him, I will be telling him,” Eliza answered.
“Yes, your highness.” Desmond rolled his eyes. “Get your team to clear us for landing, and as soon as the permissions are locked, we will bring it down.”
“See you soon,” Eliza disconnected the call, and Desmond glanced to Sienna.
“What do you think of that?”
“I think…” Sienna paused. “That something has happened that she hasn't told us. Eliza gets defensive in the face of adversity There's a reason that she needs to get to the negotiations faster, and it isn't just impatience.”
“Good girl,” Desmond answered. “I feel the same, but she may not be comfortable speaking about it over the transmission. Go and get Nathaniel, but tell him not to pack.”
“He was so looking forward to spending time on Jeffro, too.” Sienna unfolded herself from the chair.
“Unfortunately,” Desmond answered. “We are witches who have chosen a path that doesn't allow for much of that.”
Sienna glanced at him, his words potent. It was a choice, and someone could choose differently.
She could choose differently, possibly.
She shook the feeling of a stronger meaning from her head as she walked to the bunks. Desmond was simply laying out the truth, she told herself, nothing more. It was a choice, and she had seen her Maestros skirt around that rule more than once. The last time they had gotten caught, of course, Desmond had gotten them exiled. She knew the consequences
She also knew how happy being with Devon had made her last time, and how happy he was with the choice he made.
Being a witch was nothing more than a series of choices, but for her, there was no other path. She had only dreamed of being a witch before her Maestros, and despite her difficulties, she wasn't going to let them down now.
“Mae---” she started as she walked into the bunks, but Nathaniel was already awake, standing at the control panel in the bunk room. “What are you doing?”
“Do you feel warm?” he asked and she paused.
“Now that you mention it. Why?”
“We're just a little bit overheated,” he said. “The engine will need a cool down. I suspect whoever had this ship last did not clean it properly”
“Eliza called,” Sienna replied. “She basically wants to jump aboard and go.”
Nathaniel growled.
“Of course, she does,” he answered, rolling his eyes.
“Can we do that?”
“Not unless she is insisting,” he said, and Sienna raised an eyebrow.
“She is.”
“Right,” Nathaniel sighed. “Then right away it shall be.”