A Wolf's Mate (Wolf Mountain Peak Book 6) by Sarah J. Stone (23)

“No,” Nathaniel growled in frustration as he cleared the passageway. It simply went into the other room, and it was empty. “NO!”

“Nathaniel,” Desmond snapped at him. “You will control your emotions.”

“And if this was Mariah?” Nathaniel snapped right back. “How would you react?”

“I would look for her,” Desmond said calmly. “And I would find her. Just as we will find Eliza.”

Sienna looked between the two of them, the tension thick in the air. She had thought this was going to be a boring quest, but it was turning out to be anything but that. It was as she was having that thought that a wave of dizziness hit her. Her knees buckled, and she fell against Desmond as the darkness overtook her.

Chapter 11

When Sienna awoke, they were still in Eliza's bedroom. The guards had left; it was quieter, and she was on Eliza's massive bed. She was lying on her side, and she was awoken by a terrible cough that shook her entire body.

Desmond's large, comforting hand clapped her shoulder. He was sitting in a chair by the bed, a stack of paperwork in his hands.

“It's all right, little one,” he said. “You're all right.”

She sat up, brushing the hair out of her eyes. Her lips felt chapped, and her mouth felt dry. She was grateful for the water glass that he handed her, and she sucked it down.

Nathaniel burst into the room then, his eyes frantic. His gaze lay on Sienna for one moment, and then he turned to Desmond.

“We have to go,” he said.

“Nathaniel,” Desmond replied patiently. “I have explained this to you already. We are not simply charging off when we have absolutely no idea where she is. Her guards are already searching the city, and they know it better than you do. In addition, Sienna is not ready to go anywhere just yet.”

“Eliza could be dying, and I have to wait?” he snapped in disbelief. “This is ridiculous. If she can't keep pace with us, she stays here.”

Any warmth that the two of them had shared was clearly dissolved. He was once again angry at being saddled with a Tiro who was not as strong as he liked. He was practically bouncing on his legs, ready to bolt.

Desmond was right, of course. He didn't have a plan or any clue what to do. They had scoured the room but had not found as much as a thread out of place. The rebels were being interrogated, but not one of them seemed to have any clue. Nathaniel had searched their minds, but they seemed to be completely confused as to what was happening. They may have had unequal intentions, but capturing the queen was not one of them.

“That is not how training goes,” Desmond replied. “And I won't hear another word against it. Please finish that glass of water.”

Sienna sank against the pillows, feeling small and sheepish. She closed her eyes to drown out Nathaniel's anger, which hung in the room like a thunder cloud. She felt guilty for not being able to keep up with them, but she was used to this. Maybe this was why no one was supposed to train her.

“I want to take the search to the border planets,” Nathaniel said, trying to control his anger. “That is where they would have taken her.”

“Which border planet? And once we get there, where are we going to look?” Desmond prompted him. “You need a better plan than that.”

“Why is it me that has to come up with the plan?” Nathaniel asked. “What's your plan?”

“Here,” Desmond said as he showed Nathaniel the stack of papers he had been looking at. It turned out to be maps of the cities on the planet. There weren't many; outside of the main city, Jeffro was not well populated. “I don't think they have taken her to the border planets. I think they would have stayed here because we wouldn't start looking here. There are a few farms that have bomb shelters built into them from when Jeffro was at constant war. I think that's where she is.”

“Huh,” Nathaniel replied, his anger defused as he considered the options. “That's actually not a bad idea.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Desmond rolled his eyes. There was a knock on the door then, and the captain of the guards came in. To everyone's surprised, he bowed low. Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. This was not how he normally greeted them.

He turned to Sienna, and he spoke a long string of words. Sienna raised an eyebrow in disbelief. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, and it was in her native tongue.

She turned to Desmond, unsure how to translate what she heard. Desmond reached out his hand, and she closed her eyes.

‘In the absence of the queen, witches are in charge until a suitable heir is found.’

“What?” Desmond said, looking at her in disbelief.

“Oh, my creator,” Nathaniel ran a hand through his hair. “That is true.”

“What?” Desmond replied. “You knew about this?”

“She mentioned it once or twice,” Nathaniel answered. “This isn't about me. More than one planet does this. If they don't have a proper heir, we are in charge of protecting the throne in the interim as a neutral force.”

“We aren't exactly all a neutral force, are we?” Desmond raised an eyebrow at his former Tiro. “Sienna, accept.”

She looked frightened and wide eyed, but she turned to the man, translating. He nodded and said a few parting words before leaving.

“We can't guard the throne and look for Eliza,” Nathaniel said, his jaw set.

“We could,” Desmond said. “There are three of us.”

Nathaniel put out his hand in disbelief. “You just said not to split up,” he cried in annoyance. Desmond sighed.

“What do you propose we do, then?”

“Why am I the one coming up with all these things?” Nathaniel asked.

“You will watch your tone,” he answered calmly. “And because you must learn to make the choices that benefit both the universe and your team. What is your choice?”

Nathaniel chewed on his lip. He was trying to think with a clear head, but he felt like he was about to explode.

Sienna was unwell. She might put them in danger if they went.

If they stayed, he might never see Eliza again. But she would have wanted him to protect her throne.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and trying to let the magic guide him. He couldn't be everywhere at once, even though he wanted to.

Suddenly, the solution came to him.

“Can you call Mariah?” he asked Desmond. “No doubt, she'll want to get away from sitting at the school, waiting for news. She can govern here, we've worked with her before. The Jurors won't say no. It's an easy quest, with no physical demands. And then we can go out into the field.”

“I could…” Desmond answered. “If that is what you want.”

“That is what we need to do,” Nathaniel said. “Sienna, I need you to be strong, do you understand me? Eliza needs us to be strong.”

“I don't think that she has a choice,” Desmond replied. “You can't just will health into her.”

“No, but I could…” He paused as he thought for a moment. “The rations.”

“What are you talking about?” Desmond asked in confusion. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” Nathaniel said, turning to go. “I'll be right back.”

And with that, he stalked out of the room, leaving a confused Desmond and Sienna sitting there.

The older witch shook his head, turning back to her.

“Don't be concerned,” he said. “He has always been like that. Even when he was a boy, his thought process wasn't linear.”

She cocked her head, and Desmond pushed the thoughts through to her. She smiled, taking another sip from the water glass. At the very least, Nathaniel's energy was fascinating.

He came in so quickly he nearly slipped on the rug. In his hands were two packages of rations from the Jeffroian Army’s supply. They were freeze dried, and barely food, Desmond thought. As Witches, their diets were usually full of healthy, natural food that respected nature. If the items in these packages had anything natural in them, they had become so unrecognizable that it wasn't worth labelling the ingredients.

“What are you doing?” he asked Nathaniel, as the younger witch ripped open the package. He held it out to Sienna, who reached out a tentative hand.

“Look,” Nathaniel said. “No magic leaps from her fingers. Nothing like the fruit.”

“That's not food,” Desmond protested.

“I think that's the point,” Nathaniel answered. “Her body attacks natural things; her magic swirls around it. No wonder natural food was getting to her, her magic was rising up. But this still provides the nourishment without the other issues. They are meant to provide soldiers with nutrition in two bites.”

“If she throws this up, you're on duty,” Desmond said, but he watched as Sienna took a bite.

Her face crinkled, and it was obviously a different taste. But at Nathaniel's insistent gaze, she finished it.

Within half an hour, the normal time that she would be sick from something, her cheeks had color in them, and her eyes were brighter.

“Huh,” Desmond said as she got up, going to the window. She looked stronger than when they had met her. “Perhaps you are right.”

“As soon as Mariah gets here,” Nathaniel said, “we go out. And we don't come back until find Eliza. I will pack enough rations for three months, if necessary.”

“That's one approach,” Desmond said, and they both fell into silence for a long moment. “It's nice to see you acting like a Maestro, Nathaniel. I know it's not easy, but you are learning.”

“It's not that I can't figure it out.” Nathaniel kept his voice low, watching Sienna across the room at the window. “It's just hard to take it in. This is not something I wanted, Desmond. Please remember that. I'm trying, though.”

“I know you are,” Desmond answered, his voice equally low. “I didn't want my first Tiro either. I didn't feel like I was ready to join the rank of Maestro. I felt like I was still figuring my life out.”

“You, Maestro?” Nathaniel said, in surprise “That doesn't sound like you.”

Desmond gave him a weak smile, but said nothing.

“Any word about Sybil?” Nathaniel asked, and Desmond shook his head.

“No. Don't be too concerned. Sybil is one of the best fighters out there. I'm sure she's fine and just out of signal range.”

“Where was she last?” Nathaniel asked, and Desmond shook his head.

“It was a highly-classified quest, handed out by Thomas personally. Only they knew. Mariah had a general idea, but nothing specific.”

“Classified?” Nathaniel smiled. “Good for Sybil. She always wanted those types of quests, where she was so important she had to have a fake name.”

“You and Sybil used to make up fake names, do you remember?” Desmond asked, his memory jumping back. “On every report, you'd pretend you were getting top-level quests. I remember your professors had to tell you to write about some regular quests just to be diverse.”

“And now I realize how complicated they are and would rather do the ones with one page of paperwork,” Nathaniel managed a smile. “Quest went well. No one died. Nathaniel out.”

Desmond laughed at that. “When is that ever an acceptable quest report?”

“When I'm in charge of the Jurors, it will be,” Nathaniel decided, and Desmond shook his head.

“You have always been different, Nathaniel,” he said, and Nathaniel shrugged.

“It's worked out for me so far.”

“That it has,” Desmond said. “That it has.”

Chapter 12

“Mariah.” Desmond took her in his arms as soon as she got off the ship. He didn't pull her close, but it was enough of an embrace to draw raised eyebrows. She twisted immediately to just take his arm, moving slowly to get a bearing on her surroundings. “Thank you for coming.”

“It's better than sitting around waiting for news on Sybil.” Mariah chewed at her lip.

“Nothing yet?” Desmond asked.

“Have you tried to reach out to her?” Nathaniel asked, keeping stride with them.

“No,” Mariah said. “You know how it is, Nathaniel. If she is somewhere in hiding, one com-link call could throw everything off.”

“I know,” Nathaniel replied. “I just wish there was something we could do. I feel helpless with Sybil, I feel helpless with Eliza, I…” He reached out quickly as Sienna tripped over a wire. It was a fast save, and she righted herself, continuing to walk. “Just feel helpless.”

“There's a moment where you are not,” Desmond pointed out to him, and Sienna smiled up at him. She was trying to be friendly, but Nathaniel was rigid. “Mariah, I will show you the throne room and introduce you to those you should know. After that, we need to go.”

“You have a plan?” she asked, and Desmond sighed.

“We have an idea. But as you said, it's better than sitting around, doing nothing.”

“I'm going to check with the communication room,” Nathaniel said as they made it into the palace. “Make sure they haven't heard anything. Sienna, stay here.”

Desmond sighed as he watched Nathaniel go, but drew Sienna close to keep her out of the hustle and bustle.

“I'm sorry to leave you like this,” he said to Mariah.

“No, this is our job,” Mariah replied, and then lowered her voice. It was so soft that Desmond could barely hear her. “Besides, I am glad I get to see you.”

He smiled at her choice of words as they turned into the throne room.

H expected more resistance with the fact that witches were being left in charge. But everyone seemed to accept that it was the way things were. No one said anything as they parted ways to let them through. It seemed half the country was in the throne room. There were advisors, politicians, military personnel, and the unimpressed rebels who still wanted negotiations. It was not going to be an easy few days for Mariah. But Desmond knew that she could handle it, and all without even blinking an eye. This was a shadow of what the two of them used to do at their best.

“You will call me if you need anything,” he said to her. “Please.”

“I will, but I will be fine,” she assured him. “You just be careful.”

“I will,” he replied. “We will be back before you know it.”

Her arm was in his, and her hand brushed his. He wished he could hold her close here and now, but there were hundreds of eyes on them. Everyone knew witches weren't supposed to fall in love.

‘Who knows what they think of Nathaniel and Eliza?’ Desmond thought. It took all his strength to eventually pull away from Mariah and head back down the platform steps, Sienna at his side.

He noted that she stayed close out of physical need, but not necessarily out of emotional need. She used his body to dodge the people around her, but she didn't look around for his comfort.

She was already so different from Nathaniel, and he wondered whether he would get the chance to learn more about her. He prayed to the magic that he would get a few more years, if nothing else.

Nathaniel met them in the hallway, practically bouncing on his heels.

“No messages,” he said, their rucksacks at his feet. “Let's go.”

“You need to hold on a moment,” Desmond said as he picked up his rucksack and gave Sienna hers. Witches needed to pack minimally; they were taught to live off the land. However, her circumstances were obviously different. “We will gain nothing with all of our energy wasted at the beginning.”

“I've got a smaller ship on standby for us,” he said. “It’s an open top, but there's enough room for the three of us. Four, if we find her. It's faster than walking.”

“Open top does not give us coverage if we are fired upon,” Desmond pointed out.

“Well, it's what we have,” Nathaniel replied. “So, we will have to be the coverage.”

Desmond sighed, glancing down at Sienna. He thought about transferring all the information to her, but there wasn't time. Nathaniel was right. They had already been delayed twelve hours too long. No one had slept much preparing for this, none of them being particularly good at naps. Now, they didn't know when they would see sleep again.

“All right,” Desmond replied. “Let's go.”

Nathaniel practically sprinted off down the hallway. Desmond could feel his thoughts and his distractions. This was exactly why they weren't supposed to form attachments; it could lead to distraction, and distraction could lead to death. However, Desmond knew he would be doing the exact same thing if it was Mariah.

“That one,” Nathaniel said, when they came to a long, brown ship, open on top. There was a small trunk and four seats. Sienna went for the back, but Desmond redirected her.

“No,” he said, pointing to the front. “You watch Nathaniel and learn.”

She paused and then shrugged, clambering into the front seat. Nathaniel took the steering wheel, and Desmond got into the back, leaning against the seat.

“It's nice to be chauffeured around,” Desmond said, and Nathaniel rolled his eyes.

“And you tell me not to make jokes, Maestro,” he said.

“It wasn't a joke,” Desmond said as Nathaniel started the engine. “I was telling the truth.”

“Wonderful,” Nathaniel replied as he made sure all the systems were online. The hangar was open, and security was clear of the door. With their queen missing in action, security had of course been upped. However, no one knew exactly what to do. They were exhausted after searching for sixteen hours straight, and no one had a new plan. Waiting was the worst part of any search.

“Do you know where you are going?” Desmond asked as they began to navigate through the busy air. Outside, things were normal. The news of Eliza's disappearance had not managed to reach the civilians. However, Desmond knew it wouldn't be long before it did. Eliza appeared to her people every day or two. If this went on much longer, they would notice her absence.

“I already keyed the coordinates in,” Nathaniel said as he focused ahead.

“Show Sienna how to do that,” Desmond said.

“We don't have time, Desmond,” Nathaniel replied. In response, Desmond leaned forward and touched the navigation system. The directions came up, and he promptly deleted them.

“What are you doing?” Nathaniel howled him. “After I get off the main highway, I have no idea what to do!”

“What's the name of the farm?” Desmond asked.

“Richmond Farms,” Nathaniel was seething at him.

“Sienna,” Desmond placed a hand on her bony shoulder. “Richmond Farms. Can you do it?”

She turned to look at him, and then silently turned to the navigation screen. The language set was Basic, but she saw the Jeffro button and changed it.

“We don't have time for this,” Nathaniel repeated. “If I miss this turn off–”

“There is always time for lessons,” Desmond replied, cutting him off. “Stay calm and focus on teaching her how to do it, or she will never learn.”

“Desmond, this is life or death,” Nathaniel snapped.

“And this is when you learned the most, if you recall,” Desmond responded.

Nathaniel said nothing to that, setting his jaw. But eventually, he turned to glance at the screen where Sienna was keying in the name of the farm. Her hands paused, and he indicated the green button.

“Here,” he said, trying not to scream at her. He resented this moment, but Desmond was right. However, his calmness only lasted a moment when the system told him to make a U-turn. “Argh, I told you. This traffic is ridiculous. Now I have to find a place to turn around in this line.”

“Which will take a moment,” Desmond said as Nathaniel made a breakneck turn that made Sienna scream. He kept his hand on her shoulder. “But it was worth the lesson, I think.”

Nathaniel stayed quiet, focusing on the path ahead. He was afraid of saying anything else for fear that he would snap.

They got off the highway and turned onto quieter airways. Soon, they were out of the city and cruising past the open farms. The air was cleaner right away, and the atmosphere was less noisy. Nathaniel shifted into autopilot, letting the system take over now that he didn't have to dodge a ship every few moments. He took his hands away from the steering wheel and took a deep breath. Closing his eyes, he reached out to nature, looking for any sign of Eliza, any memory of her that he could glean.

But there was nothing. Any magic pings he put out weren't answered.

“We'll find her,” Desmond said after a moment. “We've never failed at search and rescues.”

“Not all of them were alive,” Nathaniel pointed out, and Desmond couldn't argue with that fact. Half the time with quests like this, their subjects were dead and cold.

Sienna broke the mood with the rustle of a ration from her pack. Nathaniel reached over, opening the packet and handing it back to her without another word.

“Whoever kidnapped her will be tried at the Intergalactic Court,” Nathaniel said after a few moments. “This is a case we will be on for a while.”

“We've testified at the Intergalactic Court before,” Desmond said. “If that's what we have to do, then we will do it, even if it takes months.”

“I should have been there,” Nathaniel said, shaking his head. “I should have sensed it, I should have felt it.”

“We can't blame ourselves for the past,” Desmond answered. “You know that. We can only affect the future.”

“Still, if I hadn't been distracted–”

“Nathaniel!” Desmond snapped, knowing what was coming. Sienna's head shot up. “You will not say another word.”

Nathaniel took the warning, and tried not to glare at Sienna. He knew he was being a child, but he didn't care. If he had been with Eliza, he could have protected her. She would still be with him; he was sure of it.

The farm eventually came into view, and he took the ship off autopilot, bringing them down. He always had trouble with landings. Take off and cruising was easy, but landing, he felt, was like playing chess with his eyes closed. Even with all the advanced technology, he still felt like he had to guess about the ground under him.

Of course, there was technology that did everything automatically; but he didn't trust it. Desmond and Sienna's lives were in his hands, and he'd rather it be a bumpy landing that a computer error that ended in disaster.

“Here we are,” he said as the systems shut down. “Leave your rucksack here, Sienna.”

Nathaniel twisted his wrist, which Desmond knew was his way of storing up magic. He didn't approve of it, the equivalent of a knight drawing his sword. But every witch had their own way of preparing for negotiations. Nathaniel's, it seemed, just involved being a warrior to the core. He was his own person now, Desmond tried to remember as he helped Sienna out. His choices were his own, and it was time to let him sink or swim.

Chapter 13

The farm was startlingly quiet. All around them, the birds chirped, and the bugs buzzed. It was so different from the city noise that they used. It was as if they had stepped into another time.

There was no sign of life anywhere outside of the animals. Nathaniel spun around then moved toward a path on the left.

“I think there's a farm house this way,” he said. “I saw it on the map.”

“What's your strategy?” Desmond asked him. “Your magic stores are enough to blow that house to the ground.”

“If that's what I have to do,” Nathaniel answered, stalking down the path. Sienna kept pace with him, looking around constantly.

Suddenly, there was a voice to the left.

“Ahoy!”

They all spun around to see a purple alien crawling down the tree. He was dressed in blue overalls and had a piece of his fruit in his hand.

He spoke rapidly to them in Jeffroian, and Sienna stepped forward. She looked back to her Maestros, and Desmond put his hand on her shoulder again.

‘Ask him if he's in charge,’ he thought, and Sienna turned back to the alien.

‘No,’ she said, after a moment. ‘He just works here. His boss is up at the farm house.’

“Ask him about Eliza,” Nathaniel snapped, and Sienna understood enough to speak.

‘He hasn't seen the queen here,’ she thought. Nathaniel reached out to the alien's mind, but he didn't sense any lies from him. Normally, when someone was lying, their heart rate rose and their pupils dilated. This alien just looked confused.

“Let's head toward the farm house then,” Nathaniel said at last. They nodded their thanks to the alien and started toward the farmhouse, constantly aware of their surroundings. Now that they were closer to the main path, they could see more fruit pickers hanging off the trees and throwing fruit into the baskets. Some of them smiled, and one of them juggled a few apples, making Sienna smile. He threw one at her, clearly meaning for her to eat it. She pulled back in time, and Nathaniel caught it.

‘I can?’ she thought and he shook his head.

‘Not nice to refuse,’ he thought briefly, as they came to the door of the farm house. It was red, with a blue door, and the paint looked as if it was as old as Nathaniel. Taking a deep breath, Nathaniel reached up and knocked on the door.

There was no answer.

Nathaniel pounded harder on the door, opening his fist and banging on it.

“Hello! HELLO!” he cried through the door. There was still no answer.

Just as Nathaniel was about to break it down, someone opened the door. It looked like an older version of the fruit picking aliens, with his antennas going grey and his mouth tired. He raised an eyebrow.

‘Ask him if anyone else is here,’ Nathaniel thought rapidly at Sienna. ‘Tell him we have been commissioned by the queen to search all farms.’

It frightened her how angry he was, and she tried to put a nice spin on things. The alien raised an eyebrow and then stepped back, his arms open.

“Yes,” Sienna said, stepping forward. Nathaniel was surprised because he had expected more of a fight. The farmer seemed completely open to them searching.

The farm house was three levels, and Desmond and Nathaniel split them up. Sienna stuck to Desmond's side as they inspected every nook and cranny. Desmond sent out magical pings for Eliza's signature, but there was nothing.

It was rapidly becoming obvious that she wasn't there. Desmond knew that the chance of finding her on the first farm out of so many was unlikely. Even though he knew Nathaniel was aware of the fact, he expected him to search harder.

He did not expect him to grab the alien by the coveralls and practically scream in his face.

“Are you sure no one is here? Are you certain?”

“Nathaniel!” Desmond cried, reaching out and pulling him back. Nathaniel didn't struggle, but he was clearly seething. “What has gotten into you?”

“How do we know she's not here?” Nathaniel asked. “How do we know she isn't just well hidden? Magic can hide those things, Desmond. Magic can–”

“She isn't here,” Desmond told him, and Nathaniel held his gaze for a long moment. Finally, he dropped his shoulders. Like a good witch, he turned back to the alien.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “Sienna, apologize to him for me.”

“He…understands,” she said at last, judging by the look on the alien's face. “Just speak slowly.”

“I'm sorry,” Nathaniel said again. “Long day.”

The alien nodded his head and indicated that they should probably leave if they were ready. Nathaniel slouched out, his hands in his pocket.

His head was whirling as he calculated his next move. “We can probably do nine more farms today before we lose the light,” Nathaniel said as they walked back to the ship. “I feel like we aren't doing all that we can.”

“Nathaniel, I am open to doing more,” Desmond replied, “but you have to come up with what that is. I am out of ideas. This is how our search and rescue quests go. We go off our best theories and hope that we either find them or come up with a better theory.”

“Call Mariah,” Nathaniel said at last. “See if there is news.”

“She would call me if there was news,” Desmond assured him. “Give the next coordinates to Sienna, and we will be on our way.”

Nathaniel heaved a giant sigh, but he obeyed. He handed her the map, pointing to the spot he had marked off. This was going to be a very long day, and they weren't even in the middle of it.

The next farm proved to be a failure, and the one after that as well. At each one, they found the same thing. Friendly fruit pickers, an old man farmer, and an empty farm house.

By the time the sun set, Nathaniel was ready to crack in the door.

“She's not at any of these,” he cried to Desmond as they made their way back to the ship. “I think we're on the wrong trail. Every moment that slips by, Desmond, we are losing our chance.”

“I think we need to take the night, regroup, and clear our heads,” Desmond said as they climbed in. “You know as well as I do that a clouded head does no good.”

“Argh!” Nathaniel practically slammed the steering wheel. Sienna jumped, leaning away from him. Desmond waited patiently for his rage to end.

“There is an inn not too far from here,” he said when Nathaniel's breathing had slowed. “We can get a good night's rest, contact the palace, and see what the situation is.”

“I don't think that…” Nathaniel started, then shook his head and put the ship in gear. “Forget it.”

‘Why would they take her?’ Sienna pushed her thoughts to Desmond, who shrugged. He spoke in Basic, but he made sure to keep contact with her, just in case.

“There are many reasons why someone would take a queen,” he answered. “They could be angry at her and want her dead. But it is unlikely that Eliza is dead, seeing as they kidnapped her and did not assassinate her. More likely, they want something out of holding her. Money, freedom, any number of reasons.”

“This has occurred?” she asked, and Desmond paused.

“It's already…oh! Before?” he asked her, and she nodded. “No, I don't–”

“Wait,” Nathaniel said, listening to the conversation. “This has happened before.”

“What?” Desmond asked him. “You just thought to bring that to light?”

“I didn't think of it before,” Nathaniel answered. “We weren't here; it was years ago. She only told me about it. Eliza had just taken the throne maybe a few weeks before, and she was taken from her very gardens. It's why the gardens got redesigned – to provide better vantage points.”

“Who took her then?” Desmond asked.

“It was a cousin who objected to her inheriting the throne,” Nathaniel replied. “But that cousin and that line is dead. Eliza made sure of it.”

“Did she?” Desmond questioned. Nathaniel set his jaw.

“We have to contact the palace,” he replied. “As soon as we get to the inn and can have a private room, I can reach out to them and see what they can trace. I know she had them killed, though.”

“Her own family?” Desmond asked him. Nathaniel shrugged.

“Eliza will do anything to protect her throne and her rule,” he said. “She's very…determined.” He said it with a smile, as it was one of the facts that he loved about her. She would do anything to protect what she loved. Despite the fact that her very attitude on such matters had kept them apart, he admired it. She was dedicated and committed to her cause, as he was to his.

The only slip up came in their love for each other, and it was a mutual feeling.

He found the inn nestled in the countryside easily enough. It was clearly meant for weary travelers who just wanted a good drink and a bed to sleep in. The quality wasn't the best, but the witches weren't supposed to be interested in quality. Their minimalist lifestyle meant that they could sleep outside and be comfortable if they needed to be.

Inside, the bottom floor was a tavern, and it was busy. The innkeeper looked run off his feet and seemed a bit annoyed with new visitors. Desmond went to inquire about rooms, while Nathaniel snagged a table with Sienna. Her eyes were wide as she looked around, having clearly never been to such a place.

There was noise everywhere – people laughing and talking, boisterous and also more than a little drunk. She watched the bottles of alcohol go by on trays, and the steaming hot food following. Desmond eventually settled beside them.

“There will be rooms available upstairs in half an hour,” he said. “They won't be top quality, but they will do for privacy. You should order some food.” He turned to Nathaniel, guessing at his growling stomach. “You haven't eaten in an hour; that's not like you.”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes as he grabbed at the menu. Sienna leaned forward on the bench, looking at a menu without understanding. Desmond scanned it quickly and then shook his head.

“I don't think you should eat anything here, little one,” he said, after a moment. “The rations will have to do. Hmm?” he indicated her rucksack, and she nodded. To keep herself entertained, she pulled out a notebook from school, turning it to the page she was supposed to be working on.

“Steak,” Nathaniel said after a moment. “I don't care what kind it is. Liquor, strong, double. Can you order for me? I'm going to call into the palace.”

Desmond was surprised at Nathaniel's order of alcohol, but he said nothing to the effect, leaning back so his former Tiro could get by. Alcohol was a grey area for witches. It wasn't expressly forbidden, but it obviously could distract. Aside from a glass of wine at dinner, Desmond usually didn't indulge. But Nathaniel was twenty-five, and his energy had yet to cease. Desmond decided if he wanted a drink after a stressful day, there was no harm in it. Besides, with the sun set and the night pitch black, there was nothing more they could do tonight. For now, they could only hope that whoever had Eliza was treating her well.

Chapter 14

The food was surprisingly good for a little tavern in the middle of nowhere. It was hot, and full of flavor, which was more than Desmond had hoped for. He was watching his com-link half the time, as Mariah forwarded him messages from the palace. They hadn't thought of the dead family line, but Nathaniel's call had set them in motion. As soon as they tracked anyone possibly related down, they would let them know.

Desmond had been worried about Mariah for no other reason than he was always protective of her. But to his delight, she actually seemed to be having a wonderful time being an interim queen. Her messages didn't show any stress, aside from the fact that she was worried about Sybil, who still hadn't checked in. That news set a darker cloud over Nathaniel, who had fallen into silence at the corner of the table.

Determined to not lose the situation, Desmond turned to Sienna who had been filling out worksheets for school.

“We need to contact the Jurors and do a quest report of our first day,” he said. “Do you want to do that?”

She paused, taking his com-link from him. The screen for a quest report was already up, but it was in Basic. Her eyes scanned over it, and she bit her lip, deep in thought. She then looked to Desmond, confused.

“Why now?” she asked. “Not…convenient? Distracting?”

“Yes,” Desmond agreed. “The distractions make it hard. But if we do not keep them up-to-date on us, they will have no idea what happened if something went wrong. These reports must be sent in daily, no matter what the circumstances are. That's how they knew that Sybil was missing right away.”

Sienna snuck a glance at Nathaniel who had ordered a second drink and was leaning against the wall behind his bench. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“That is true,” he managed, at last.

“But we will not…go away,” she said, and Desmond smiled.

“We can hope that. But we don't know for sure.”

“No, we know,” she said. “We will come back and be martyrs.”

Nathaniel choked on his drink at the point. “Sorry?” he asked. Desmond seemed equally confused.

“We don't want to be martyrs, little one.”

“Why not?” she asked quickly. “In school, they say, ‘You are martyrs.’”

“We are…” Desmond searched his brain, but it was Nathaniel who figured it out.

“Heroes. You are looking for the word ‘heroes,’ not martyrs.”

This confused her. “What's the difference?”

“Martyrs die for their cause,” Desmond said.

“Heroes also die,” she said softly, and he sighed.

“Yes, but not always,” he said. “And not today. Now, quest report.”

She went to switch it to Jeffroian, but he shook his head.

“In Basic, Sienna.”

“Too long,” she said, but Desmond shook his head.

“It will take as long as it takes.”

“Or,” Nathaniel said, “you could just let her do it in Manorial and be done in five minutes, rather than dragging us through this.”

“No,” Desmond replied, “she will not learn otherwise.”

Nathaniel clearly had more to say on the matter, but he simply sighed, looking in the other direction. It did take about as long as he predicted. He was annoyed by her stumbling speech; by her lack of communication; by her constant questions. Pushing the thoughts to her through the bond didn't make it any easier, for the bond had no language and didn't help her with translation.

By the end of the hour, he wished for the ground to open up and swallow him, he was so impatient. His own com-link had been silent, and his body was drooping.

He had been sending out continuous magical pings for Eliza's life force since they left the palace, and it was taking its toll. Even sitting here in the tavern, he continued, hoping against hope that he would reach her.

But it was always silence at the other end.

Nathaniel had imagined many scenarios for his life with Eliza. Some of them were unrealistic, with them getting married and being a normal family. Some of them mirrored their real lives; she was a queen, and he was a warrior. Some of them involved him staying with the witches; others involved him joining her guard.

He noted that none of the scenarios ever involved Eliza not being in his life. Since he met her as a teenager, his life had always involved her beautiful eyes, her smile, even the tone of her voice. He couldn't imagine a galaxy where Eliza wasn't in it.

When Sienna finally finished, Desmond looked at his timepiece.

“It's time we head to bed,” he said. “There will be much to do, and it's important we are ready for whatever the sunrise brings.”

“You can do that,” Nathaniel said. “I'm going to sit up a bit longer.”

“You should get some rest,” Desmond said, glancing at his drink. “It will be better for you.”

“Luckily, I'm not your Tiro anymore,” Nathaniel replied. “So, I don't actually have to listen.”

“That is abundantly clear,” Desmond said as he signaled for Sienna to rise. She gathered her stuff quickly, and then turned to Nathaniel, confused. It was past six p.m., and she was used to the routine where he was the one who made sure all was well at night. But Nathaniel didn't so much as lift a finger, staring into his mug. “Come on, Sienna.”

“Good night,” she said to Nathaniel, politely. He nodded, but he still didn't move. Desmond sighed, putting a hand on her back to steer her upstairs. It had been so long since he had a Tiro this young, who needed to be supervised in every activity. With Sienna, of course, it was much more complicated. There was medication and treatments, and there was the fact that everything took twice as long for her to understand.

His com-link was almost dead, but when he finally got her to sleep he decided to risk one call before he recharged it for the night.

“You should be asleep,” Mariah said to him when she answered.

“Are you asleep?” he asked, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“No, not yet,” she admitted. “They keep seeming to have issues that they come to me with.”

“And I'm sure you are solving them wonderfully,” Desmond said. “Perhaps being a queen suits you.”

“It may suit you, but I can't wait to go home,” she said, and then paused. “Do you have a moment?”

“I do,” he said. “Sienna is asleep, and Nathaniel has remained downstairs. What is it?”

“The Jurors notified me today about Sybil's quest. She's been out of communication too long now, so I have a right to be notified in case I have any clues.”

“And?” he asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

“She was on the path of a hitman,” Mariah said. “They wouldn't tell me anymore, but they told me enough to suggest some places she might have gone to hold out and their strategy.”

“And her Tiro? Any news?”

“None,” Mariah replied. “I suppose it’s a good thing that neither of them have turned up. They are together, and they are fine. Just deep into the quest.”

“Mm,” Desmond said, and Mariah sensed his mood.

“How is Sienna doing?”

“As well as she can,” Desmond answered. “Sienna does not worry me, for I know that she will always do whatever she is capable of. But Nathaniel's response to her has not been when I hoped for.”

“They are very different,” Mariah said. “And while that may be good for him, it will take a while for him to adjust.”

“Maybe,” Desmond answered with a shrug. “Or maybe I've done wrong in pairing the two of us together for her. Sienna will always require an enormous amount of care, and despite the fact that I trained Nathaniel, our views are very different. Perhaps it would have been better if the two of us were more similar in our views.”

“If you and I had taken her on, perhaps?” Mariah questioned, and Desmond sighed.

“Maybe. The Jurors never would have allowed that, though. They already suspect our relationship is out of hand.”

“The Jurors can shove it,” Mariah answered. “Do you think Nathaniel will fall away from her as a Tiro?”

“No,” Desmond answered. “But I am worried he will be angry about it until the end of his days.”

“Or hers,” Mariah said dryly. “It's a reality that you have to face.”

“I know,” Desmond answered. “But death is natural; death is inevitable. After going through Reynolds' abandonment, I feel I can handle the death of a Tiro from a cause I expected.”

“There are some who say what you are doing is very brave,” Mariah said to him, speaking softly. He could tell that she was lying in bed just as he was. They were so far apart, but it felt as they were right beside each other.

“And the others?” he asked. “Not that it matters.”

“There are others who say you are walking a grey line, and that you are a witch who chooses another path than the one the Jurors deem fit at all times,” she laughed. “So, the same as always, really.”

“Yes,” Desmond agreed with a smile. “I don't mind that they say that.”

“I know that you don't,” she said. “I'm just your ears for when you are away.”

“Unless you mind that they say that when you are at my side,” he said, and she chuckled.

“Let them say it. You are a hero, I know it, and the Jurors know it.”

He laughed at that. “Do you know what Sienna called us today?” he asked. “She meant to say hero, but she was convinced the word was martyr.”

“Uh,” Mariah replied, “that's a big difference.”

“I know that,” Desmond answered. “But it took a moment to convince her otherwise.”

“Kids these days,” Mariah said, and he laughed. A yawn over took him then, and he tried to move the com-link.

“Oh, I should go to bed,” he said.

“Old man,” she teased him. “We used to stay up talking half the night.”

“When we were Nathaniel's age,” Desmond said. “And even then, I cursed the dawn. I never understood those who run on little sleep by choice. It's not worth it.”

“But the words we spoke in those nightly calls…”

“Mariah,” he scolded her, and she laughed. “Go to bed, too. Try to get some rest, for we never know what we will need our strength for in the morning.”

“That is true,” she said. “I will call you if there are any updates.”

“Please do,” he said. There was an awkward pause on the other end of the phone, and he wanted to tell her that he loved her. But that was not proper by any stretch of the imagination. So instead, he took the easier route. “Good night.”

“Good night,” she said, and the line went dead.

He stared at it a moment as if it still held her essence. Eventually, he put the com-link on his nightstand to recharge and rolled over. He used his magic to flick out the lights, reaching out to Sienna on the other side of the wall. She was asleep, her mind at ease. He considered reaching down to Nathaniel's mind, and then decided against it. Nathaniel needed to be alone with his thoughts at this moment. Desmond could remain calm because Mariah was safe, and he could call her this very moment if he wanted. He couldn't imagine the hell that Nathaniel was going through, but he knew that his Tiro was strong. He had made him strong, and now was his time to prove it.

Chapter 15

“Desmond! Desmond!”

Desmond sat up with a start, the pounding on his door coming into focus. He recognized Nathaniel's voice at once and leapt out of bed before his mind even fully processed what was happening. He pulled open the door to find Nathaniel looking frantic.

“The palace just contacted me. There's a cousin of Eliza's on one of the rebel planets, living a quiet life, or so they claim. We need to go, and we need to go now.”

“On the rebel planet?” Desmond tried to get his bearings. “We'll never make it there with our ship. We'll have to get another.”

“We can get one not far from here,” Nathaniel said. “We have to go, though, before he gets word that we are looking for him.”

“What time is it?” Desmond asked.

“Almost four a.m. The sun will be up in an hour or two. Come on.”

“Get Sienna,” Desmond said, taking stock of the situation. “Make sure she has everything she needs. I will pack our stuff and notify the Jurors as to our movements.”

“Right,” Nathaniel turned and promptly slipped.

Desmond grabbed him before his face hit the floor, but it was a shock for both of them. Nathaniel was always light on his feet and was used to moving swiftly through dark hallways. That was basic warrior training.

“Ow,” Nathaniel managed as he righted himself. “Thanks.”

He went to bang on Sienna's door, while Desmond took a second look at him.

“Are you all right?”

“I'm fine,” Nathaniel said.

“Then don't move so fast. It doesn't do us any good,” Desmond said. “Be cautious, Nathaniel, or everything could be ruined.”

“Can we just go?” Nathaniel begged, and Desmond headed back into his room. He hadn't had a chance to unpack at all, so it was easy to pick up his rucksack and grab his com-link. His stomach growled, ready for breakfast, but there was no time. He resigned himself to being hungry as they made their way to the ship.

Sienna was quiet, sleep still in her eyes, and she curled up against Desmond in the back. He put a hand on her small back, counting her breaths as Nathaniel gunned the engine. Everything was moving so fast that Desmond only had time to ensure she was fine before Nathaniel gunned the engine.

They all flew back, and Sienna snapped awake as she screeched.

Nathaniel shifted gears rapidly, pushing them forward. “Sorry,” he muttered, and Desmond repeated his warning.

“Slow down,” he said, as Nathaniel passed the speed limit, his eyes straight ahead.

“There is no time to slow down,” Nathaniel repeated, his tone harsh. “They will kill her to get to the throne. They will torture her; they swill…”

It was the speech that alerted Desmond. His head snapped forward as he heard the slur in his former Tiro's words.

“Nathaniel,” he said with a growl in his voice. “Are you drunk?”

“I'm fine,” Nathaniel answered, but Desmond was not taking his words at face value. He reached into Nathaniel's mind with the type of magic he reserved for intense interrogations and desperate strategy. He pushed so hard that Nathaniel actually howled in pain. Overpowering him, Desmond took over the controls and ground the ship to a halt. It was an exhausting process, and Desmond felt drained. That didn't used to happen, a part of his brain noted. Once, he could handle such effort all the time. Now, fighting his own Tiro whose mind he knew inside and out was a struggle.

His energy was refueled by anger as he pushed open the door of the ship. Before Nathaniel could even react, Desmond had hauled him out of the driver's seat, and practically threw him to the ground.

Sienna squeaked, but he put a hand out to her. This was one of the harshest lessons a Tiro would have to learn, and he touched her so that she understood every moment. Her little hand rested in his as he glared at Nathaniel.

“Do you know what kind of danger you could have put us in?” Desmond asked. “You could have killed all three of us, never mind the other people in the air. This is reckless and unacceptable, Nathaniel. To put your Maestro at risk is one thing. That is almost your job. To harm a colleague, another witch, is unforgivable. To recklessly put your Tiro in harm's way – the one you swore to protect and guard – that is a whole other circle of hell.”

“The one you swore I would protect,” Nathaniel practically screamed at him. “And she may get Eliza killed if we keep having to cater to her.”

“No!” Desmond dropped Sienna's hand, grabbing Nathaniel by the shoulders. “You will not speak that way ever again! Do you hear me? It is time to grow up, Nathaniel. It is time to realize that your love for Eliza must come last in this world. Don't you think I knew what this could be like? How it could tear at your heart? You are a witch; you have chosen a life for yourself. So, unless you are choosing differently and walking away now, you will serve the magic first, your Tiro second, and the universe third. And if Eliza is in there, fine. But she is not your priority. Is that much clear?”

“Desmond, you don't even know…” Nathaniel started, and Desmond saw tears in his eyes. He quickly checked to make sure that he wasn't hurting him, but the only pain his former Tiro held was emotional.

“I don't know?” Desmond asked. “Really? Is that what you think?”

Nathaniel kept his mouth closed, but his chest heaved, and Desmond could see his face turn an odd shade of pale. He let go of Nathaniel long enough to let him bend over, and he stepped back.

The younger witch emptied the contents of his stomach onto the ground with a splash. Desmond was not impressed to hear that it was mostly liquid, but he knew scolding him further would not make a difference at this point. He took another step back, turning to Sienna.

To his surprise, she wasn't upset. She was digging in her rucksack, looking frantically for something.

At last, she came up with a water bottle and hopped out of the ship. She approached Nathaniel as he stopped heaving, and her thin arm held out the cool, crisp water.

No one said anything for a long moment. Desmond watched with curiosity as the child waited patiently.

Finally, Nathaniel took the water bottle, unscrewing it and taking a long drink.

“Slowly,” Sienna said softly. “Otherwise…”

Nathaniel looked down to her, taking a deep, shaky breath.

“I suppose throwing up is an area you're an expert in,” he said. “I should listen to you.”

Sienna turned back to Desmond for translation who shook his head with a smile.

“You don't need to know that,” he said.

She took a step forward, avoiding the puddle Nathaniel had left and touching his shoulder gently.

‘You are ill?’

‘Only in my head,’ he responded, and she wrapped herself around his strong arm. Nathaniel looked up to Desmond who shrugged.

“Out of the mouths of babes,” he said, and Nathaniel sighed.

“You should drive.”

“You think?” Desmond said as he reached over for the keys that had been dropped. “Are you going to be all right?”

“Yes,” Nathaniel answered. “A wicked hangover by dawn, I imagine, but that's it.”

“Good luck translating that for Sienna,” Desmond answered, and Nathaniel straightened up.

“Come on,” he said. “Let's sit in the back.”

“Input the coordinates,” Desmond said as they got back into the ship. There was still tension in the air, but it was rapidly disappearing. Desmond had rarely yelled at Nathaniel, and when he did, Nathaniel got the point right away. Desmond was not one to raise his voice unless there was a matter that required attention right away, which this one certainly did. “I can take us there.”

“Here,” Nathaniel started to move forward, and then stopped. “On second thought, Sienna, you should learn.”

It took a few moments more, but Sienna got them in, and Desmond soon gunned the engine, taking them in the right direction.

It was silent on the ship within a few minutes, and he glanced back to see both of them slumped against each other, their eyes closed. That was the advantage to not driving, he thought as he steered.

It had been a very long time since he had been behind the wheel of a ship for any length of time. He remembered it quite easily. But, he thought, it must have been ten years since he had driven on a quest. Nathaniel had been a protégé at piloting as he was at most things, and had taken over driving at fifteen.

The same age he met Eliza, Desmond noted. He wondered if the two events had anything to do with each other. After a moment of reflection, though, he realized it was in his best interest to not know what Nathaniel was doing when he said he was running a quick errand.

How had it been ten years? He glanced in the mirror to see his own face looking back at him. There was grey in his hair, and his eyes had lines around them. They looked tired, weary of the world. If there was one benefit to Mariah being blind, it was that she didn't have to see him age.

Would she still find him as attractive now as when she last saw him? It didn't matter to him what she looked like; he was in love with her soul. She always looked lovely, in his eyes. But would she reach for his hand less if she saw that he was no longer the handsome witch in his prime?

He smiled, shaking his head. It didn't matter. She loved him, and he knew that. Speculation was not going to solve anything.

He got to the shipyard in record time, realizing sheepishly that he had been speeding. He parked, and the silence of the engine brought the passengers out of their sleep.

“That was fast,” Nathaniel said, as Desmond got out, pulling the door open. He gave Nathaniel's arm a little yank, helping him up, and Nathaniel gave him a weary grin. “Thanks.”

Desmond nodded, helping Sienna out as well.

“Are you all right, little one?” he asked as she spun around. Sienna nodded, but her head was cocked as she felt out her surroundings Magic danced on her fingers, and Desmond caught it quickly, snapping her on the wrist. “Don't waste it. You'll need it soon enough.”

“But…” She put her hand on the tarmac. The cement was still cool in dawn light, and it was dark, as if it were freshly laid. “Life.”

Desmond's brow furrowed.
“That's tarmac,” he said. “If anything is living under there, it's minimal. Organisms, bugs, nothing more.”

“No,” she said. Her magic was clear; it was reacting like when there was an apple. However, it was going into the ground. “Life.”

“What's going on?” Nathaniel asked, confused, as he came back to them. He had moved a few steps ahead, but quickly noticed they had not followed.

“Eliza,” Sienna said, and his head snapped to her.

“What?”

“Eliza,” Sienna remained kneeling on the ground. “Eliza. Life.”

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.

Chapter 17

“Hi,” Sybil said casually. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

She was ready to bind him with magic and take him away. Any sane man would have simply surrendered, given that he was severly outnumbered. But Ladd didn't seem to understand that. He knew why they were following him, and he was shocked to see that there were five of them. His reaction was to whip out his weapon and pull the trigger.

“Ah!” Nathaniel was more offended about being caught off guard than anything. He was fast enough to put up a magical force field, but just barely. They were surrounded by a white ball of magic as he held up his hands, and the bullets bounced off it. It was more effort to put a protective spell over them than deflect each of the bullets individually. He couldn't keep it up indefinitely, nor could he fight with it up.

“Kierry, Sienna,” Sybil snapped. “Take over the spell from Nathaniel.”

No one objected to the plan. Kierry grabbed Sienna by the wrist, and they pooled their magic.

When it came to comparing Tiros again, it was clear that Kierry was much less powerful than Sienna. Sienna's side of the magical shield was much stronger than even Nathaniel's. It was solid instead of transparent, and she held it with comfort.

Sybil pushed her hands forward, and a magical blast hit Ladd square in his chest. Nathaniel twisted his wrists to create a rope. The weapon fell to the ground, and Ladd grunted as he fell to his knees.

“Ha,” Nathaniel said, making sure his knots were tight. “Too easy.”

“We did outnumber him, Nathaniel,” Desmond pointed out, reminding him that too much confidence was never good for witches. Nathaniel yanked at the magical strings and shrugged.

“We're good.”

“You can let go,” Desmond put a hand on Sienna's shoulder, and she dropped the spell. She stumbled against him, and he kept his steady hand on her just in case. “You don't have to exert yourself so much, little one. You could have used half that magic, and it would have been fine.”

‘How?’

“I'll teach you,” he assured her as Nathaniel rushed forward.

“Where is Eliza?” he asked Ladd. It was clear that he was going to ask once with a decent attitude. After that, he was prepared to break bones. Sybil took a rope from her pack so that Nathaniel could drop his spell, tying the man up. He made no effort to be careful, and he cried out.

“AH!”

“I said, where is Eliza?” Nathaniel repeated. Ladd looked up at him defiantly. “How are you even alive? She told me she killed you.”

Ladd cackled, and cackled. It was an eerie sound, echoing through the tunnels. Nathaniel promptly kicked him in the stomach, and he fell face forward.

“Where is Eliza?”

“Eliza is dead by now!” he said, in his accented Basic. “If you harm me, you will be harming a king and answering to the Intergalactic Court.”

“No!” Nathaniel's teeth bared. He didn't believe him – didn't want to. But his stomach sank, and his heartbeat rose. If there was even the smallest chance that this man had hurt her, he would snap his neck here and now, rules be damned. “Tell me, or I will kill you here and now, and no one will even visit your grave.”

“Eliza tried to have me killed,” Ladd replied at last. “But without an heir to the throne, she knew she couldn't do that. She'd damn everything. She banished me instead of letting me stand beside her. The stupid–”

Nathaniel landed a kick square in his face; breaking his nose. Blood flowed from it, and Ladd groaned.

“Nathaniel!” Desmond said, but Nathaniel didn't care.

“Sienna, come here,” he said, holding out his hand.

Sienna stayed by Desmond's side, unsure.

“Sienna, come here,” Nathaniel repeated.

“No,” Desmond said. “You will not use her when anger is fueling your magic.”

“I will train my Tiro how I choose,” Nathaniel snapped, but Desmond kept a tight grip on her.

“Not when anger darkens your judgment,” he said. “Not when violence is your path.”

Nathaniel glared at him, and Sybil tensed. It was a stand-off of two different styles and two different people. It was impossible to tell when Desmond felt like breaking the rules was all right, and when it wasn't, his style was so different. She knew Nathaniel, and they had their differences during their training. Nathaniel never liked what a rebel his Maestro was, but he clearly had picked up some lessons.

To Sybil's surprise, though, Nathaniel's shoulders dropped. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. The tension left his body, and his chest opened as his face relaxed.

When he was breathing clearly, he opened his eyes.

“Sienna,” he said, in a much calmer tone. She looked up to Desmond, and he nodded.

Cautiously, Sienna took a step forward, and then another, taking Nathaniel's hand. He established their bond, pushing thoughts into her head.

‘Find where Eliza is.’

She nodded, turning to the man. She didn't say a word, touching his shoulder.

It was a long moment as her eyes tried to make sense of the images that he was trying to hide. She saw many things in his brain, and she projected them to Nathaniel. Finally, she opened her eyes.

‘The first farm.’

“What?” Nathaniel asked in shock. “Are you sure?”

She projected him an image of the first farm straight from Ladd's thoughts. Nathaniel saw Eliza then, bound and gagged. They led her through the farm house and into the basement, while she struggled.

He searched the image, looking for a clue as to what day it was.

Finally, his mind's eye settled on the calendar on the wall and the clock.

It had been just four hours after they left. They had been right. They had been right all along.

“It is,” he turned to Desmond. “It's the first farm. She's in the basement.”

“It'll take hours to get back there,” Desmond said, calculating what was going to be the best way. “Sybil, you should take this man to the capital. You need to check in, and he needs to be brought to justice.”

“Eliza spared your life,” Sybil said to him. “And then you kidnap her?”

“She's dead,” Ladd said with certainty. “I am the king. You'll see.”

Nathaniel drew his hand back, ready to snap his neck. It was only Sienna's squeak of protest that stopped him from doing the deed just then.

“No!” Sienna cried, and he froze, his hand shaking. Her eyes were wide and pleading, and it was only her innocence that made him draw back.

“No,” he said, after a few moments. “Not today. Justice will be done, but not by us.”

“Come on,” Sybil grabbed Ladd, pulling him up. “And just so you know, those ropes can be much tighter. Kierry is practicing her noose techniques, and I'm sure you can help her.”

“Sybil…” Desmond said, and then stopped himself. “Nothing. You are a Maestro now that is your choice.”

“You taught me that!” she cried with a grin. “You said that line when we were on Janos!”

“Oh,” Desmond remembered that quest, but not that line. He was reminded just how much the Tiros absorbed, even when they didn't mean to. “I see.”

“Come on.” Sybil pushed Ladd forward, putting him in between them. “Let's go.”

The walk back out of the tunnels was solemn. Nathaniel's heart was beating out of his chest, and he wanted to bolt.

She wasn't dead; she couldn't be.

But it made complete sense. He even understood why Ladd would have been spared. There was no heir.

It wasn't until they were in the ship, with Desmond at the wheel that Nathaniel spoke up. “This is my fault,” he said.

“Nathaniel,” Desmond said. “We've been over this. You didn't know.”

“No, not that moment,” Nathaniel replied. “All of this.”

“How is that?” Desmond asked, patiently.

“If Eliza had married and had a child or two, Ladd would not have to be the heir,” Nathaniel answered. “She would not have had to leave him alive, and she would not be kidnapped now. But she hasn't, and it's because I love her.” He clenched his fists, trying not to punch the dashboard. His head was pounding, both with the effects of the night and the unshed tears. “This is my fault,” he repeated. “This is all my fault for loving her.”

Desmond sighed and powered down the engine for a moment as he searched for the right words. There was no training for these moments – no manuals. There was no other Maestros he could turn to for advice. He had to rely on himself – not his magic and not history – and he knew he only had one shot at telling Nathaniel the right words.

“It takes two to love,” he said at last. “If you believe it is your fault, it is as much Eliza's. But,” he said, as Nathaniel shot him a look, “I have known Eliza as long as you have. And my impression of her is that if she wanted to marry and have an heir; if she thought that was the best choice for her country and her throne, she would have done it already, you be damned.”

Nathaniel's face reacted in shock.

“What?”

“Eliza's rule is solidified because she trusts herself before anyone else,” Desmond said. “And you can never repeat this, but your situation is perhaps the best for her. She has your support, your heart...but you will never rival her throne; you will never challenge her rule, nor will you be at her side all the time. That is what she wants, Nathaniel, and it would be the same whether or not you were in the picture.”

Nathaniel stayed quiet for a moment, considering these things. Desmond held his breath, hoping that he hadn't made a mistake.

He was vividly aware of Sienna's presence in the backseat as well. These were the lessons she was learning on her first quest – the lessons that would stay with her.

He hoped that she would live a simple, uncomplicated life and follow the rules as they were written, if only for her own sake. He hoped that there would never be anyone who won her heart or made her eyes shine. He hoped that the magic and the support of her Maestros would be enough. But somehow, he had a feeling that one day it wouldn't be.

“You're right,” Nathaniel said at last, and Desmond let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“Good,” Desmond said awkwardly. “Now, shall we head off?”

“Can I drive?” Nathaniel asked.

“Not a chance,” Desmond said as he started the engine again.

“I'm fine,” Nathaniel protested as Desmond began to navigate the airways. Sybil was already crossing the airfield, on her com-link in one hand with Ladd on another. He gave her a wave as they went by, and she gave them a thumbs-up.

“I know you are,” Desmond answered, although he could feel that his former Tiro was still a bit off. “But it's nice to be driven around once in a while.”

“Mm,” Nathaniel leaned back, against the seat. “That it is.”

“Sienna,” Desmond glanced into the backseat. “Can you please put the coordinates in?”

She leaned forward, touching the screen of the navigation system. It only took a few moments before she got them on the right path.

It was five hours to get back to the first farm, but Desmond was convinced he could make it in four. And for Nathaniel's sake, he tried to make it in three.

Although, he thought to himself, if Eliza was already dead, it wouldn't matter how long it took.

Chapter 18

“I'm going to have a chat with you later about the conditions you return my Tiros in,” Mariah's voice came over the communication system as they cruised along. They were less than twenty minutes from the farm, and Desmond was so glad to get a call from her. It meant that Sybil had returned safely. “Kierry is a bit beat up, and Sybil is proud of it. What rebellion have you put into her head?”

Desmond chuckled. He knew it wasn't the best situation to be laughing at, but he was so grateful to hear Mariah's voice. Nathaniel's sadness was crushing, and he needed something to keep the mood up.

“Nothing more than usual,” he said. “Have you taken Ladd to interrogation?”

“Jeffro has a crack team,” Mariah answered. “And Sybil has already filled me in on most of the going ons. Are you all right, Nathaniel?”

“As much as can be expected,” Nathaniel answered, although his voice was rough. “I just want to get there.”

“You will,” Mariah said with the confidence and kindness of a mother. She was the only motherly figure that Nathaniel ever had, and he responded as such. “Keep hope.”

“I know,” Nathaniel said. “But the facts…”

“Facts don't mean anything from men like this,” Mariah reminded him. “He'd say anything. No one at the palace believes him because they are not treating him with the respect of a king. Nor has anyone booted me off my throne.”

“Right,” Nathaniel replied, a little more confident. “Thank you.”

“We'll see you soon,” Mariah assured him. “And Sienna?” she took a breath and then spoke a few words in Jeffrorian.

Sienna's face lit up, and Nathaniel recognized the phrase. He shook his head.

“Goodbye Mariah,” he said, glancing to Desmond for permission before he cut the line.

“What did she say?” Desmond asked.

“She told her there's food waiting for her,” Nathaniel answered, glancing back at his Tiro's excited face.

“That used to work on you,” Desmond answered.

“Still does,” Nathaniel replied. “Don't stop making me food.”

“And you're the child once more,” Desmond said, exchanging a smile with him. It was a break in the tension, and Desmond was glad for it. But as soon as it started, it was over as they came upon the farm.

Desmond killed the engine as they glided the rest of the way. The light was starting to fade, and he cursed the early sunset. Jeffro had a random schedule when it came to sunsets, he always thought. The planet wasn't quite round, and it rotated at a weird schedule. Sometimes, it was twenty-four-hour light and sometimes, it was darkness all the time. Nathaniel seemed to keep track of it, but it always baffled him.

“What's your plan?” he asked Nathaniel as they glided to a stop on the outskirts of the farm.

“Burst into the farmhouse and blow everyone living to pieces,” Nathaniel answered. Desmond shot him a look. “If she is dead, Desmond…”

“If she is dead, then those responsible will be brought to justice,” Desmond assured him. “Let's, for argument's sake, say she is not. What is your plan?”

Nathaniel took a deep breath, trying to think clearly. “There's a back entrance,” he said at last. “I remember it from last time. There's also a side door. I think they would be expecting us more from the front door, so let's avoid that. If you take Sienna and go around the side, we will have an equal advantage. The basement door is between the two, so we should be able to make it there at the same time.”

“Fine,” Desmond said. Nathaniel reached for the door, and the older witch stopped him. “Inform your Tiro.”

Nathaniel tried not to sigh at this. He knew it was necessary, and he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he must do this from now on, even in the direst emergencies. He turned around, taking Sienna's hand.

It took a few moments, and Desmond could hear the echoes of their thoughts. Sienna was asking questions, unsure; Nathaniel was trying his best to reassure her without panicking.

Finally, they broke their bond. Sienna looked bright eyed and ready to charge forward.

“Let's go, then,” Desmond said quietly. They opened the doors as quietly as they could. “Nathaniel, have your magical stores been replenished?”

“Yes,” Nathaniel answered. “I think so. Although, when this is over, I'm going to sleep for a week.”

“I'll put in the request to the Jurors,” Desmond answered dryly.

They crept down the darkened path that they had walked on not hours ago, their bodies tense. Desmond didn't dare light a ball of magic for fear of being seen. Nathaniel's memory led them to the left side of the path where they could get better coverage from the trees. The long branches brushed the ground, and they all ran into more than a few of them.

A sparkle of light caught Desmond's eyes, and he spun around, ready to attack.

He realized quickly it was just Sienna's magic reacting to the fruit everywhere.

“Hands…pocket,” he said, and she obeyed. She couldn't defend herself with her hands in her pocket, but it was better than getting caught for something they could control.

The farmhouse soon came into view. There were bugs chirping, and everything seemed quiet. There was no light coming from the farmhouse. There was either no one there or they were all dead.

Desmond did not share his theory on that with Nathaniel.

Nathaniel indicated that they should split up then, and Desmond agreed. Creeping around opposite sides of the house, he reached out through their bond, trying to lock onto Nathaniel's distracted mind.

‘Ready?’ he asked, touching Sienna's shoulder so she was in the loop as well. She nodded, and he felt Nathaniel's answer echo.

‘Three. Two. One. GO!’

Both doors burst open at exactly the same time. Desmond felt a large splinter enter his arm, and he grunted. He changed sides so that his good side faced the basement door.

There was a lot of commotion from below, and then he heard voices. Footsteps thundered up the stairs, and then the door burst opened.

Gunfire poured out in a blast so strong that it took both of them reacting at lightning speed to block them. There were four men that Nathaniel could count rushing toward them.

He pushed a powerful blast of magic toward them, but it only shut two of them down.

“Desmond!” he screamed. “I need a moment.”

“Argh!” Desmond's arm throbbed, and he was quite sure that it was pouring blood. But he pushed forward anyway as the gunfire grew.

A bullet got out of their reach, and they both heard Sienna shriek as she fell.

Desmond and Nathaniel both pushed, and the magic was strong enough to blow a hole in the man's chest. It was gory, exploding against the walls. Both of them were shocked that they had propelled that much magic forward. Usually, a killing blast would drain them, even when working in tandem.

They both spun to Sienna, who was on the floor.

“Sienna!” Desmond grabbed her, pulling her forward. He frantically checked her over, searching for the bullet wound. But it baffled him to find that there was none. There was no blood except his own, and no entrance or exit wound. “Are you all right?”

“I don't think we blew him up,” Nathaniel said, reacting to her shocked face. He tried to shield her from the gruesome sight, as he touched your arm. ‘You're all right. You're all right.’

“I….” She looked up, tears in her eyes. “Dead.”

“It was necessary,” Nathaniel assured her. “We would be dead otherwise. It was necessary”

She nodded, but there were tears streaming down her face as she shakily got up. Each of them were brought back to the memory of their first kills years ago. Desmond's had been when he wasn't much older than Sienna, and in a similar manner. He didn't know his own strength, and his Maestro had encouraged him to be as strong as he could.

Nathaniel had been older, and it hadn't been a shock. Desmond had known that Nathaniel was going to be a warrior by the manner of his first kill. He shook it off and kept walking, ready for the next battle. Fighting and surviving had been what Nathaniel was born to do, and now, he passed that strength onto his Tiro.

“There's no life force in the basement,” Nathaniel said as they turned toward the stairs. He had sent a few pings out, but he was convinced the basement was emptying. “Ladd was lying. Or she's been moved. She's not here. She's not…” And then he gasped.

As he rounded the corner, he saw what he never wanted to see: Eliza's broken body lying on the floor. Her eyes were open, and she was staring straight at the ceiling. There was no life force coming off of her.

The basement had clearly been set up to live in. There were food stores, a kitchen table, a window, and a shower off in the corner. It was startlingly normal, but surrounding a dead body.

“Mmph!” The old farmer that they had previously encountered was in the corner, tied up and gagged.

Nathaniel rushed to Eliza, his voice breaking as Desmond rushed to the farmer, taking off his bonds. The man babbled, but it was clear that what he was saying was an apology. His eyes were filled with tears. He recognized his queen; he knew what had happened.

“No, no, no!” Nathaniel brought Eliza's face to his, tears spilling down his cheeks. “No, this can't be. No. NO!”

Desmond made no attempt to silence him this time. Nathaniel needed to let his grief pour out, and he needed to be with her.

His heart broke for his former Tiro. It seemed almost surreal – impossible – that Nathaniel should still exist when Eliza did not. They had been together for so long that Desmond couldn't believe one could even speak without the other. They were pieces of each other.

Sienna stood at the top of the steps, her chest heaving in shock. Desmond was afraid she was going to fall when she took a step forward, but she caught herself. On shaking legs, she went toward Nathaniel. Feeling her Maestro's grief, she put a hand on his shoulder.

For a long moment, no one said anything. There was only the sobs of grief, the sobs of apology, and harsh breathing.

Desmond wasn't sure how long they sat there. He didn't want to disrupt Nathaniel, but he knew that they had to get back eventually. He tried several times before he got the words out.

“Nathaniel, she's gone.”

“She's still warm,” Nathaniel cried. “She's still warm. If we had been only a moment or two earlier. If we had just–”

“But we weren't, and we couldn't,” Desmond said softly. “You know that. You have to let her go. She is one with the universe now – at peace. You must accept that.”

“I can't,” Nathaniel sobbed. “I can't. I can't.”

“You have to,” Desmond replied. “I will help you.”

“Apples,” Sienna said suddenly. It was such a random thought that they both turned to her.

“What?” Desmond asked in shock. Her head was turned toward the barrel of apples near the farm.

“Apples,” Sienna said, her hand extended. Magic danced on her fingers, reacting to the fruit.

“Yes, but…” he said, confused as she went to grab one. “Sienna, no!”

“Apples,” she said again, and turned to him. “Life. Life.”

Chapter 19

Before Desmond could stop her, she was dragging the barrel of apples over to Eliza's body. It made a horrible scraping sound, and even Nathaniel looked up in confusion. She was displaying an enormous amount of strength, her magic flying. She dipped one hand into the barrel, her arm reaching as she leaned over, and she put another hand on Eliza.

Her magic flowed, and Desmond watched in shock as the apples began to shrivel. Some of them still had green leaves on them, being freshly picked. They turned brown and then black, becoming withered. He could see the magic flowing through her and into Eliza.

“Sienna,” he warned, standing up. She was completely focused on the body below her, her teeth gritted.

This kind of power was only talked about; it was only theorized.

They could heal, but to actually transfer life from one source to another was impossible. Witches had tried it for generations and failed. Mostly, it left them drained, and sometimes, they failed. Sometimes, it ended up killing them when their own life force was mixed with the force they were transferring. It was past difficult and past advanced; it was impossible.

Sienna grunted and wavered. Desmond moved forward, but she shifted away.

“No,” she told him. “No.”

“Sienna…” He was going to give her half a minute more. She was powerful – more than powerful – but this was impossible. “This…”

“ARGH!”

There was an explosion of magic. Desmond ducked, if only by instinct, and dove forward, catching her before she fell backward. The rafters of the house shook, and the barrel exploded. The debris fell everywhere, and Sienna went limp in his arms. His arm throbbed, and he felt blood running down it. He just hoped it was his and not hers.

When the smoke cleared enough for him to see, he looked down frantically. She wasn't bleeding, but she also wasn't breathing.

Across the room, a cough came, and then another, deceivingly feminine.

“Eliza?” Nathaniel choked out. “Eliza? Oh, my creator!”

Eliza's color was coming back, her eyes open, and her body already struggling. Eliza was never one to sit down, and she fought against Nathaniel's tight grip.

“Oh, my creator!” he bent down, kissing her full on the lips. “You're all right. You're all right.”

“What happened?” she asked, confused. His eyes were glistening with tears, not believing that she was really speaking to him.

“It’s okay. Don't worry about it,” he said. “You're alive. You're fine.”

“Nathaniel!” Desmond snapped, as he put Sienna's limp body on the floor quickly. The only life saving measures he could possibly do at this point was CPR.

There was another theory about the kind of magic that she had just used, and that was that one life was traded for another.

“Come on,” Desmond said. He could feel Nathaniel's presence hovering as he pressed down on her chest. “Come on, little one. Not like this. No, not like this.”

The seconds ticked by, and each one brought a new sense of doom. Each moment that went by was one moment that was against them.

“COME ON!” Desmond never got angry; he never rose his voice. But in this moment, he was close to losing his mind. She would not die on her first quest under their protection, trading her life for another's. That was the duty of a martyr and of a much older witch. That was not the duty of a young witch in training with so much potential in front of her.

‘Little one.’

It was Nathaniel who reached out with his mind and pulled her back. Nathaniel, who hadn't wanted her, and had been so angry and so resentful. Nathaniel, who would have left her at school. And now Nathaniel, who was forever in her debt.

She choked and rolled over, taking a deep gasping breath.

Desmond slumped back in relief, placing a hand on her side to monitor her breathing, making sure that she was taking regular breaths without any trouble.

No one said anything for a long moment as she recovered, taking joy in simple breaths.

Eventually, Desmond gave her a tiny smack on the side.

“Don't do that again without practicing,” he said, and she turned to look at him. He said nothing, but she could tell that he was smiling. Glancing at Nathaniel and Eliza who was sitting up, she, too, smiled.

‘It worked.’

“Yes, little one,” he said, softly. “It worked.”

They stayed another few minutes until Sienna could get up. She felt lightheaded, but she was happy with the way things had gone. She had saved Eliza's life. The queen nodded to her as she also got up, her arms wrapped around Nathaniel's waist. The Jeffroian farmer accepted Desmond's arm up, but shook his head when asked whether he planned to come with them to the palace.

“This is…home…” Sienna translated slowly. “Stay here.”

“But…” Desmond started, and then decided against it. Eliza wasn't acting as if this man was anything more than a victim of the circumstances, and so he didn't take it too seriously. He knew the queen well; if she wanted to see someone brought to justice, she would carry it out herself.

Eliza only batted an eye as they stepped over the dead bodies on the way out the door. Nathaniel said nothing as they walked out into the orchard. He looked shell-shocked by the situation, focusing on the craft ahead.

“Shall I drive?” Desmond asked, worried about Nathaniel's shock. But then his former Tiro gave him a grin, and Desmond knew he would be just fine.

“Not a chance,” he said as they reached the ship. He opened the door for Eliza in a startlingly act of chivalry. He normally was not anywhere near that courteous, and it made Desmond smile. Nathaniel finally seemed to be coming into his own.

Before the engine was powered up, he dialed through to Mariah, who answered right away.

“Are you all right?”

“We're fine,” Desmond replied. “Everyone is alive, Eliza is with us, and we're coming back. Do you mind phoning in to the Jurors for me?”

“Because running a whole planetary system isn't enough?” Mariah teased him. Eliza leaned over and took the com-link right out of his hand, which startled him.

“Can you give me a report?” she asked. Mariah and Eliza had a long friendship, which was probably because of their relationships with witches. Desmond even had a suspicion that they had spoken without the men present, talking about their woes and issues.

“Everything is fine,” Mariah said. “The rebels are settled. Sybil has given a report about your cousin's death.”

“Yes,” Eliza said, “I heard the men talking about him being dead. Good riddance; I should have done it a long time ago.”

“We all have moments like that, your highness,” Mariah answered. “I'll see you all soon.”

“Indeed,” Eliza said, and handed the com-link back to Desmond. She then turned to Sienna, speaking rapidly in Jeffro.

“Your bravery will not be forgotten, little one,” she said, and Sienna smiled.

“It was easy.”

“It was easy, was it?” Eliza teased her. “It didn't look so easy. It looked like everyone was in shock. Not to mention that when I woke up, a barrel of apples was ruined.”

“No one likes apples anyway,” Sienna answered, and Eliza chuckled.

“That may be your opinion,” she said. “Sit tight. We'll get you honored at the palace.”

Sienna leaned against Desmond, watching the queen.

“Nathaniel will want me now.”

Nathaniel heard his name and turned his head slightly, making sure to keep the ship on an equal angle.

“What did she say?” he asked. Eliza ignored him, speaking to the young girl in her native tongue.

“Of course, he wants you,” Eliza said. “He hoped for a strong Tiro, and you are just it.”

“I wasn't,” Sienna said. “But I am now.”

“You always were,” Eliza said. “I think you just didn't know it.”

“Does she want me?” Nathaniel asked impatiently, trying to figure out what was happening.

“No, she's fine,” Eliza answered, turning around again.

Even though they came in the back entrance of the palace, they were met with fanfare and celebration. The death of the queen would have been a huge blow to the system, and, in addition, Eliza was very well loved. She may have ruled with an iron fist, but she had a kind heart. As they walked into the palace, everyone bowed or cheered, reaching out to touch her and to bless her.

“Had we not been here, I think the whole country would have been out searching for you.” Nathaniel said, resisting the urge to wrap an arm around her waist.

“But without your Tiro,” Eliza said, quietly, “this whole thing wouldn't be happening. I'd be dead, Nathaniel. I thought that magic couldn't bring people back.”

He swallowed. “Only the most powerful and rarest witches could even attempt such a feat. As much as anyone has known, no one has ever done that before. From the brink of death, yes, but with healing magic only. This has never happened before.”

“No doubt she'll be studied for the rest of her life,” Eliza said as they crossed the threshold into her private chambers. Sienna and Desmond had stayed with Mariah, happy to be reunited, and Eliza was grateful for a private moment. She figured that everyone was so grateful that she was back that they would give her a moment or two to herself if she wanted. “Do you know what she said to me in the ship? She thought that doing this would make you want her. She thought you didn't want her, Nathaniel. You can't do that to a child.”

“Argh.” He ran a hand over her face. “How could she…” And then he stopped. “I might have given off that impression.”

“No kidding,” Eliza answered. “And she wanted so badly to be your Tiro that she was willing to trade her life for mine – likely for anyone's – just to make you happy. This is your Tiro, the one you are supposed to bring up in the galaxy. This is real.”

“No kidding.” He leaned against the dresser. “Creator, I'm an idiot.”

“Don't let her be studied the rest of her life,” Eliza said. “Don't let them treat her like she's an animal to be tested. She's a little girl, and she needs to be protected. All she wants is to be trained.”

“I won't,” he said, raising his chin. “I won't. It won't be an easy path, though, Eliza.”

“So,” she moved forward, taking his hands. “We'll do it together. Her language is weak. You'll need my help. Besides, she's a girl. You'll need help anyway.”

He laughed at that, shaking his head. Eliza caught his face and leaned in, kissing him gently.

It turned passionate very quickly. He pulled her closer, breathing her in. He never wanted to let her go; never wanted her to be more than arm's length away from him.

These times were always the hardest. He would have to leave her, and he never knew when he would see her again.

It was moments like this that he wondered if he chose the wrong path. How could he leave her here? How could he be separated from her?

“I love you,” he said softly into her hair. “You know that, don't you?”

“This gets harder every time,” she muttered. “But you have to go. Your quest is done; they will recall you within a day or two.”

“If something happened to you and I wasn’t there, I don’t know if I’d be able to take that again, Eliza,” he said.

“So, don't,” she said, pulling back. “We learned that today. You made a commitment to that little girl, and you must honor it. But when she ready is leave you, come back to me.”

“Yes,” he resolved. “Yes, I will. Once Sienna is trained, I will never be away from you again.”

“And if she doesn't make the tests, if the witch path isn't for her,” Eliza said, “she will always have a place here. This is her home, after all.”

“Thank you,” he said, kissing her again. “Thank you.”

“Go,” she said, giving him a little shove. “They'll be waiting.”

“Mmm.” He buried his face in her neck once more, and then pulled back. “One day, Eliza.”

“One day,” she said. “But one day isn't today. Go.”

He reluctantly went, leaving her to change. Although it was hard to even be three feet from her, he was strengthened by her promise.

He would be back to stay one day, and it wouldn't be long. But for now, he had an adventure to look forward to.

Chapter 20

“Are you packed?” Desmond asked her doubtfully. Sienna was standing at the door to her chambers in the Jeffroian palace, and her rucksack was nowhere near full. “Why not?”

‘I got distracted?’ She tried with her mind, but he pointed back to the door.

“Go,” he said. “Otherwise, you will never see the things you brought again. Eliza is not a fan of things lying around.”

“Where is your jacket? It's freezing out.” Mariah was on the other side of the hallway, ready to take Sybil's arm. But as soon as she felt bare skin, she turned, scolding her grown Tiro. “Unpack it? Are you kidding me?”

Desmond smirked, calling across the hall to Mariah. “It never ends, does it?”

“Apparently not,” Mariah answered. “Where's your other one?”

“Ah, Nathaniel is saying goodbye to Eliza,” Desmond said, glancing at his watch. “And that is all he better be doing, because he agreed to teach class in approximately fourteen hours, and it's a twelve hour trip.”

“I'm here. I'm here.” Nathaniel showed up in the hallway, a packet in his hand.

“What's that?” Desmond asked, confused. Nathaniel held it up, a smug grin on his face.

“I wrote the reports,” he said. “Don't look so surprised. I can actually take the lead once in a while.”

“I'm shocked. In the whole time I've known you, you have never written a report,” Desmond answered.

“Doesn't the Maestro usually write the reports?” Nathaniel answered. “That's me now. Here.”

“Why are you handing this to me?” Desmond asked, in surprise “These go to the Jurors.”

“Can you proofread it?” he asked. “I didn't really do that part.”

“Some things never change, Nathaniel.” Desmond rolled his eyes as Sienna came out of the room. “That's better. You have everything?”

She nodded, and they all finally seemed ready.

Eliza was waiting for them at the landing platform. She was in full regalia, surrounded by guards. There would be no tearful goodbyes here and no private moments. They approached her, bowing deep. She dipped her head.

“Long live the alliance we have,” she said. “For I shall forever be in your debt. And you, Sienna.” She nodded to one of her ladies who brought forward a beautiful box. Sienna's eyes lit up, and she turned to Desmond, who nodded her approval.

The box was opened, and inside was a golden apple, inscribed with the Jeffroian coat of arms.

“My thanks to you, young one,” Eliza said. “Especially.”

“Thank you!” Sienna practically hugged the box. It was heavy, and she stumbled. Desmond took it out of her arms, and she looked grateful.

“Have a good trip,” Eliza said, and they bowed one last time.

Nathaniel took one last lingering glance at her, trying to keep his composure. And then he turned, heading into the ship. The others followed.

Sybil nudged him. “There will be new quests posted tomorrow,” she said. “I'm sure you will be back before you know it.”

“Do you think I'm a fool?” he asked Sybil. “For being involved with her?”

“No,” Sybil answered, surprised. “You made a choice, and you're living with it.”

“I…” Nathaniel looked around, as Kierry drifted back to talk to Sienna. “I told her that when Sienna is trained, I will be back. For good.”

“Oh,” Sybil took this in stride. And then, to his surprise, she smiled at him. “Like Maestro, like Tiro.”

“What?” Nathaniel answered.

“That's such a Desmond thing to do,” she said. “You must have learned it from him.”

“I suppose I have,” Nathaniel looked upon on his former Maestro fondly. “I suppose I have.”

“Nathaniel is taking this well,” Desmond observed to Mariah as they got settled on the ship. “Normally, he's a mess when we leave.”

“Wouldn't you be?” Mariah asked. “Whenever you leave, I am used to it. But–”

“I am glad that we are not in the same situation,” Desmond answered. “I don't know if I would be strong enough.”

“Oh,” Mariah said. “Why, Desmond, are you getting soft in your old age?”

“My old age?” he answered. “You're aging along with me.”

“Yes,” she took his hand gently. “Thank the creator for that.”

“Yes,” Desmond answered, squeezing her hand.

He looked out on the others. Nathaniel was showing Sienna the controls before he powered up. Sybil and Kierry were lugging bags and joking amongst themselves. This was a different legacy than most people got. But, he thought as he watched the younger ones, if this was all he and Mariah got, it would be enough. He was comfortable with these being their legacy – the ones who would pass on their name and their memories. They may have made some mistakes along the way, but it was for the best in the end. His love for Mariah had created all of this. It was the best life he could have imagined.

He had it all.

Epilogue

“Can you sign this?”

Nathaniel jerked from sleep at his Tiro's accented voice. He had been sleeping, dreaming of a battle they had won. It was a common dream: to be reliving his glory days and waking with a smile. It was also a common dream for him to awake with Sienna standing over him, asking him something at an ungodly hour. He had no idea where she had learned that mornings were a good idea, but he wished someone would teach her otherwise.

“What…?” he asked blinking. She had a tablet in his face, and it was blinding him. “What are you doing?”

“Early class,” she said. Although her vocabulary had jumped by leaps and bounds in the past three years, it hadn't expanded enough for complicated conversation. Except, it appeared, when she wanted something. Then, her words came perfectly and without hesitation. “I need this for class.”

“Right, right.” He barely made out a signature line, assuming it was something about homework. He put his finger on it and scrawled a signature. “Go away. I'll see you at noon.”

“Thank you.” She started toward the door, and that was when his brain started to tick. “Sienna, what did I just sign? Why didn't you take it to Desmond? It's seven a.m. He's awake.”

“Class?” she tried, but he beckoned her forward.

“Let me see,” he said, and she sighed, bringing the tablet back. He raised an eyebrow as he read it. “This is a waiver for a tournament.”

“Yes,” she said sheepishly. “Just an in-class tournament.”

“You have not taken defense courses yet,” he said. “You're not doing an in-class tournament.”

“But I need it,” she whined, and he motioned for her to sit.

“Why do you need it?”

“Quest certification.”

“What quest?” he asked. “We don't have one.”

“Yes,” she changed screens on the tablet. “We got one just this morning. You'll like it.”

“Why will I…” he started, confused. He liked training her, and he liked quests, but the quests that he liked were no longer the ones that they got. Sienna was sick, despite her magical strength, and they didn't get warrior quests. He was content, but none of the quests filled him with excitement. He accepted the quieter life they were living, where his Tiro's strength was in her mind, and in her uniqueness.

That was, until he saw what was on the screen.

Royal Escort Galaxy Tour, Trade Agreements. Jeffrorian Royal Family.

Level 1 Defense Certification needed.

“Oh my,” he looked up on her. “Did you bid on this?”

She nodded, then her grin disappeared, “Are you mad?”

“Not mad,” he answered, handing it back to her. “Go fight in the tournament. I'll deal with Desmond.”

“Thank you!” she cried, bouncing off. He threw off the covers, a grin on his face as he went to his monitor. He saw Eliza was lingering online and hit the button, aware of the fact that he was shirtless.

“Nathaniel, oh!” Eliza cried, unimpressed. “What are you doing?”

“You don't like?” he asked as he sat down. “Because there will be a lot more of that if we are on your trade deals.”

“They assigned it to you?” Eliza said, in shock. “I thought it was too low level for you.”

“Luckily, I had a Tiro with barely a defense certification,” Nathaniel answered, and she laughed.

“Sienna to the rescue again,” Eliza said. “Thank the creator for her.”

“Thank the creator for her,” Nathaniel answered. If someone had told him he would be saying that two years ago, he would have laughed at them. But now, he saw that it was meant to be. Sienna had come to them at just the right time, and he was so grateful. “Onto the next adventure.”

***THE END ***