He let himself into his own room, readying himself for bed quickly. He was tired, and the lights went out as quickly as they went on. He expected to sleep the night and wake at dawn as he always did.
He did not expect Nathaniel to bang down his door at five a.m., his face pale and his jaw set.
“Eliza is missing,” said his former Tiro. “And the Jeffroian palace is destroyed.”
Desmond blinked as he stood at the doorway, the harsh, electric light wounding his eyes. “Destroyed?”
“Blown up,” Nathaniel answered. “It's on the news. Desmond, I think she's dead.”
Chapter 11
“The reports coming out of Jeffro is that the palace was blown up about three hours ago,” Thomas said as they gathered in the Council rooms. “It was an inside job, likely someone who knows the layout of the palace itself. There were no survivors.”
Nathaniel stumbled against Desmond who grabbed him before he fell. This was a dead giveaway that his relationship with the queen was more than just friendly, but neither of them cared. Nathaniel righted himself quickly, but his eyes were frantic.
“Eliza was telling me something right before the attack. She thought that her cousin, Ladd, the one who kidnapped her, was back from the dead. I thought she was crazy, but when Dorian returned, I see that it's now possible. We have to get to the bottom of this. We have to–”
“Nathaniel, we are peacekeepers,” Thomas said. “We are protectors. But more importantly, we do not go where we are not wanted. Unless someone on Jeffro invites us, we cannot simply turn up.”
“We are search and rescue!” Nathaniel protested. “We protect those who cannot protect themselves. This is an attack on–”
“The Jurors will not send a team to Jeffro until we know more,” Thomas said firmly. “And that will be the end of it. If you wish to be on that mission, we can consider your request. But right now, we wait for news. If the planet is not stable, we cannot risk your life.”
“I don't care about my life,” Nathaniel said quickly. Desmond grabbed him before it was too late, throwing a hand over his mouth.
“Come, Tiro,” he said firmly. “We are dismissed.”
It took everything he had to drag Nathaniel out of the room. Frankly, given his former Tiro's energy and mouth, he was surprised this was the first time he ever had to do it. Nathaniel was shaking, somewhere between rage and shock.
“We have to go.”
“There is nothing we can do but wait and see,” Desmond said.
“Sienna,” Nathaniel suddenly said. “Sienna could reach out to ping Eliza, even this far away. She has a connection with her ever since she brought her back.”
“And every time she uses that kind of magic her stomach contents end up on the floor,” Desmond reminded Nathaniel. “Listen to me. No, stop talking and listen. Are you listening?”
Nathaniel nodded, although it was with great difficulty.
“As with every other great disaster this galaxy has been through, we will wait here at the Academy until we are told where we can best be used. It could be a few minutes; it could be a few hours. Eliza is smarter than everyone is giving her credit for. If there was an attack on the palace, she and her team would have gotten out. I have no doubt about it.”
“But…” Nathaniel started.
“It's a twelve-hour trip to Jeffro. What if you are halfway there and find that you've wasted time because they've evacuated elsewhere? What if the next attack is here? What if Sienna needs you?”
These words seemed to bring some sense into Nathaniel who took a deep breath. He wasn't calm – his hands still shaking – but he did loosen his shoulders a bit. Desmond awkwardly patted his arm.
“Come on. I promised Dorian that you would meet him. I've arranged breakfast for all of us.”
“All of us?” Nathaniel answered, confused.
“Christa is here as well,” he said. “I can present my whole timeline to my former Maestro and wait for his judgment.”
Normally, a joke like that would get a smile out of Nathaniel. Today, it got nothing. He glanced at his watch, sighing. “I'll shower and I'll meet you in your rooms? I don't think I could stand being in the cafeteria right now.”
“It's a sound plan,” Desmond replied. “You call me if you need anything.”
“It is just past six o'clock,” Nathaniel pointed out. “So, you call me if you need anything.”
“Right.” Desmond paused and pinged Sienna, who was predictably still asleep. “I'll get her then.”
“Thank you,” Nathaniel replied, turning on his heel. His mind was so distracted that he almost ran straight into a post. Luckily, his magic alerted him before his brain did, and he turned at the last second.
That move, however, nearly made him run into Laura.
“Whoa,” she said, grabbing him. “What's on fire?”
“So much,” he answered. “We're on emergency call. The Jeffroian palace...is gone.”
Laura gasped, putting her hand to her mouth. “Nathaniel, I'm so sorry,” she said.
He gritted his teeth. “The Jurors say that there are no survivors,” he managed. “But I have hope. I'm just going to shower. I want to be ready to go just in case.”
“Of course,” she said, and he realized how early it was.
“Why are you awake?”
“Haven't slept yet,” she admitted. “I didn't want to leave Devon.”
“Of course,” Nathaniel said. “Is he all right?”
“He's fine,” Laura replied. “But he's so rarely in pain that I don't like to leave him when he is.”
“I understand,” Nathaniel answered. “He gave Sienna quite the scare. She was worried.”
“She need not be,” Laura replied. “He has years, at least.”
“Oh,” Nathaniel paused. “You have certainty? Or hope?”
“Certainty, if statistics are any measure,” Laura shrugged, and then realized what she was saying. “I'm sorry. You have no certainty.”
Nathaniel paused. “We keep hope. As I must do now.”
She shook her head. “Of course. I'm sorry. I'm going to get some sleep. But if you need anything…”
She met his eyes, and he was reminded of the passion that he shared with her the night before. It was so easy with her; there was no need for complicated conversation. They seemed to be mirror images of each other, knowing what the other was going through before words were even spoken.
For one brief moment, he had a flash of what his potential future could be like. His life could be like this: effortless in matters of the heart, no distance, no confusion, and no explanations.
He had always envied what Desmond and Mariah had and how they operated. There was a home to come to – not two distinct planets to visit. There was a shared language and shared knowledge; not panic every time they saw each other. They had time off together to do as they pleased, and no one wondered when they spent hours talking.
He had been staring in her eyes for a few seconds before he realized that. He pulled back, shaking himself. “Sorry. I will,” he promised her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” she shrugged. “That's what friends are for.”
“Right. Friends,” he said as she headed off. Was that was happening?
He headed into his room with a daze, showering so quickly he wasn't even sure he remembered it. He was simply going through the motions, his ears perked for the sound of a video call. He was hoping against hope that Eliza would just call and tell him it was all a bad dream.
But the call didn't come.
He somehow made it to Desmond's chambers early. Only Christa sat there, clearly fresh off a mission. She smiled as Nathaniel came in. She was like a big sister to him, always one step ahead, always ready to share stories of Desmond's looks of terror.
“How are you?” she said. “I heard.”
He sighed. “I’m barely holding it together.”
“Everything will be fine,” she assured him. “I can feel it.”
“Thank you,” he replied, although he knew it was a lie.
The door opened, and Sienna entered. Nathaniel, out of habit, pinged her vitals. She turned her head toward him, her eyes wide as she got a quick flash of his memory of the morning’s events.
“I will check,” she said at once.
“No!” He squeezed her hands as she came to him. “You'll make yourself sick, little one.”
“But I can–”
The door opened again, distracting both of them. Standing beside Desmond, tall and as alive as the day he left, Dorian looked upon the Tiros with a smile.
“Well,” he said with the body language of an overjoyed grandfather, “I am so happy to meet all of you. Desmond has told me about you all.”
“It's a unique opportunity.” Christa got up, her hand out to greet her Maestro's Maestro. “We may have crossed paths once or twice, but never like this. Welcome back from the other side.”
“If that's what they are calling it now,” Dorian responded. “It frankly seems as if I never left. Except for the fact that everyone seems older. And you must be Nathaniel, the legendary warrior.”
“I am Nathaniel,” the younger Maestro said. “I don't know about legendary, though.”
“Yes,” Sienna shot out. “In my textbook, all the time.”
“This is Sienna.” Desmond gave her a smile as Dorian turned to her. “My current Tiro.”
“Hello,” Dorian said. He was impressed by her strength; he could already feel it before they touched. But he could also feel the fault in her stars, the acridid genes raging. “I hear you are going to be the one to save us all.”
Sienna blushed, shaking her head. “No,” she answered. “I think not.”
“We'll see about that,” Dorian answered. “But for now, shall we eat?”
“That is Nathaniel's favorite activity,” Desmond answered, trying to distract Nathaniel from the horrors of the morning.
But despite the reunion, Nathaniel did not feel like he was distracted. He was vaguely listening to them catch up, to the stories of their past, and to the laughter. But none of it calmed his heart. He checked his com-link every few minutes; he tried to hold his own ground in terms of the conversation. It was clear he was distracted, though, and Dorian soon brought it up.
“I was once in a similar situation,” he said to Nathaniel, who jumped.
“I'm sorry?” Nathaniel asked.
“As you are in now. It wasn't with a foreign queen,” Dorian took a deep breath, “but it was one I cared deeply about: my brother.”
“Your brother?” Nathaniel said in shock. “Was he also a witch?”
“He was trained early on,” Dorian said. “But this life was not for him. He left the Academy at eighteen with another witch. It wasn't a dishonorable discharge, for you know that choosing to leave if one's heart isn't in it is acceptable. The space station he was on was attacked by rebel pilots.”
“I never knew that,” Desmond said, watching his former Maestro. “Was he all right?”
“He was,” Dorian answered, giving Nathaniel hope. “He returned a month later, having had to hitchhike his way across the galaxy. That month was the hardest month I had ever lived, but I had hope. Hope for the future, and it was what got me through.”
“He left with another witch?” Sienna perked up beside Nathaniel. “He was in love?”
“He was,” Dorian said. “Last I heard, he had three children and was very happy. It's hard to imagine another life outside the Academy, but I'm glad that he had one at all.”
“I didn't know it was an…outlook?” Sienna's language failed her, but both her Maestros understood that she meant possibility.
“It's not,” they both replied, and Sienna jumped at their unison.
“I wasn't thinking of it,” she said, looking down at her plate. She knew that she shouldn't even speak of such things. But given their examples, it was hard not to at least dream. The memory of Devon's kiss was all too real for her.
Chapter 12
“How are you enjoying school?”
Sienna looked up in joy as they finished the meal. Although Dorian's voice was strongly accented, it appeared he had some grip on the Jeffroian language.
“Challenging,” she answered. “But I enjoy it.”
“Sienna,” Desmond said, as he took the dishes to the sink. “You can answer in Basic, please.” He turned to Dorian. “My apologies, Maestro. It's a struggle already.”
“Of course,” Dorian replied, the smile of an indulgent grandparent recognizing the rules that his adult children set out for their own protégés. “Your Basic is quite good, though I heard you didn't speak it at all when you came.”
“I learned.” Sienna traced the pattern on the table cloth. “But I still prefer…otherwise.”
“Do you know I didn't speak any Basic when I came here?” Christa gave her a smile. “My Maestro raised me multilingual, so it took me a lot longer to have a solid grip on anything. As a pilot, it's worked out well, for I never seem to be in the same language belt twice.”
“Your Maestro…” Sienna's eyes darted to Desmond, and then she remembered. She reached out to Christa – who was surprised by her force – in order to see her former Maestro.
She saw a smiling woman who was middle aged, with long, brown hair and a kind smile. Graceful and tall, the woman looked over her shoulder, as if seeing something pleasant.
“That's Diana,” Christa said softly as she felt Sienna's mind touch her.
“Sienna, that's not nice,” Nathaniel gave her a little smack on the arm. “You ask before you invade people's thoughts.”
“It's okay,” Christa replied. “We're all connected.”
“How?” Sienna asked, unable to imagine the sadness of losing a Maestro. She purposely blocked Christa's emotions from reaching her, not wanting to feel such a thing.
“They were on a quest,” Desmond spoke quietly, and Sienna turned toward him. “It should have been Christa who died. She was the one in the path of the spear. But Diana chose to move forward instead.”
Sienna squeaked, the sadness of it overtaking her. She lay her head on Nathaniel's shoulder, who put a distracted arm around her.
“It's okay,” Christa tried to reassure her. “Really. I am living in the way that she wanted, and she would have been happy to know that Desmond helped me accomplish that.”
“Well,” Desmond made a face, “not happy exactly. Diana and I never saw eye to eye.”
“Which is why she may have been all the prouder that I actually made it to the tests at all,” Christa teased him, and Desmond laughed.
“That may be true,” he said.
Sienna's head suddenly came up, her magic dancing on her fingers. Nathaniel reacted immediately, concerned that she was reacting to something. But the faraway look in her eyes told him she was sensing that something was happening as she listened far beyond their room.
“Eliza,” she said suddenly.
“What?”
“Eliza is here,” she said, and he slid his chair back, bolting to his feet.
“Where? How?”
“I…” She was using magic that she shouldn't be, pushing further than she normally did. Desmond tensed, watching them both. From the look on their faces, he wasn't sure which one would fall. “Hangar.”
Nathaniel said nothing. Everyone standing around the room knew what was happening with Eliza. The fact that Sienna could sense it from that far away was astonishing to everyone but her Maestros. They knew her power was unprecedented, and they also knew when she was using power that she shouldn't be.
“Go,” Desmond said as they all stood up. Nathaniel bolted, and Desmond turned to her.
“Is she alive?” Desmond asked her.
Sienna nodded in surprise. “Of course,” she said. “Is it possible to feel a dead being?”
“For most it is not, little one. For you, though, who knows?”
“I want…” Sienna stood up. “I want to go with him. I want to know.”
Desmond paused for a moment, but then decided there was no harm. The others in tow, they headed down to the hangar, not knowing what to expect. Desmond half wondered whether they would find a Jeffroian ship full of corpses. He had seen the details of the explosion, and he had seen the aftermath of such attacks. Even if someone did manage to get out, it wouldn't be pretty.
To his surprise, the ship that was in the hangar was in perfect condition. He recognized it as the royal transport ship which was kept running at all times in order to evacuate the queen if there was ever a threat. After hundreds of years of implementing this policy, it appeared that it was finally in use.
The doors were closed as Nathaniel skidded into the hangar. His heart was thudding in his chest as he moved forward, sending out a ping.
Sure enough, Eliza's life force beat from inside. But the doors remained closed and sealed, and he feared something was very wrong.
“Desmond,” Nathaniel reverted to his teenage years, fearful and unsure as Desmond came up behind him, “be prepared. “
“You think there's a threat inside?” Desmond summoned his magic. The others around them did the same, ready to attack anything that came out of the doors. It was a strange sense of Deja vu, for they had just done it with Dorian's ship.
“I don't know,” Nathaniel admitted. “I don't know. I just want–”
Suddenly, the doors began to open. They creaked, and Nathaniel sensed that the ship had been damaged. He noticed a dent on one side and that one of the tires was blown. It must have been a rough landing, which wouldn't be uncommon if they had just escaped a threat.
He held his breath, praying to the Creator. Please, he begged to a god he didn't usually believe in. Please, let her be all right.
His prayer was timed with the first of the Jeffroian guards coming down the platform. Because this was a royal ship, the witches bowed to their knees. Nathaniel's eyes remained fixed on the platform, praying.
And there, in all her majestic glory, was Eliza. She was dressed as if she was greeting the people, with jewels and a crown on her head. She stood, her outfit of pure white blowing slightly in the breeze from the open door.
Nathaniel let out such a breath of relief that he almost fell to the ground. She looked around, and he could see she was trying to stay calm.
He rose, trying not to rush into her arms and sweep her up, as much as he wanted to. “Your highness,” he called out. Her eyes locked onto his, and she felt a strong sense of relief. “We thought you were dead.”
“We very nearly were,” she answered, regal as ever. “But it appears we escaped just in time. We seek sanctuary.”
“Of course,” Nathaniel said, approaching. His hands were trembling, and he fought to keep his face neutral. As soon as he was close to her, he lowered his voice. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” Eliza answered. “But many of my people are dead. Nathaniel…”
“I know,” he said softly. “I know. It's okay. You're safe now, and we'll figure it out. We will retaliate.”
“And we will rebuild,” she replied. “Retaliation does not sound very witchlike, but we'll take it if you are offering.”
“For you, my queen,” he said, “anything.”
He turned then, because he knew that he would kiss her if he stared at her one moment longer. Everyone was staring at them, and it was getting obvious.
Sienna couldn't contain herself and ran forward, throwing her arms around Eliza.
“You're not dead!” she cried.
“No,” Eliza managed to chuckle. “Look at you! You've grown nearly a foot. How are you, Sienna?”
“I am well,” Sienna answered, and Nathaniel cleared his throat. “I am mostly well.”
“That is good to hear,” Eliza smiled. “Perhaps you can tell me how you have been. Nathaniel, some room?”
“Your grace,” he answered as he led her toward Desmond. “I'm going to get the queen settled, and then I can sort through this. Perhaps you could teach my class?”
Desmond raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he asked, but Nathaniel's eyes were pleading. “Yes. What am I teaching?”
“Strategy, textbook,” Nathaniel answered, not even bothering to give Desmond the full information before he swept Eliza out of the room. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome.” Desmond rolled his eyes, glancing at Dorian. “My Tiros,” he said sarcastically.
“I see that,” Dorian smiled. “I shall leave you to it, then. The Jurors have summoned me, and I imagine there is much to talk about.”
“I'll catch up with you after,” Desmond called after him as he turned to Christa. He was about to say something smart when his former Tiro interrupted him.
“When did the attack on the Jeffroian palace happen?”
“Um, sometime in the night,” Desmond replied. “Why?”
“It's barely morning,” Christa answered. “I've flown that route to Jeffro a thousand times. Unless our information is wrong, there is no way they made it here that fast.”
Desmond paused. “What are you saying? Do you think they left before the attack?”
“That is possible,” Christa answered. “We do sometimes receive news long after such attacks, or have the time stamp wrong. But if we haven't received bad news?”
“What are you suggesting, Christa?”
“Two things,” she said. “Either they left before the attack occurred, which is unlikely, given that there is blast damage to the ship. Or–”
He picked up her train of thought right away. “Or they are dead and returned.”
“We haven't figured out what's happened with the Ronan,” she answered, “but it seems similar.”
Desmond took a deep breath. “Sienna would have sensed if her life force was different. She's so strong, Christa; there's not a thing that gets by her.”
“I know,” Christa answered. “But we don't fully understand what's happening. So what if that is the case?”
Desmond looked in the direction that Nathaniel and Eliza had gone off to, thinking. “Don't breathe a word of this to either of them,” he said. “Especially Nathaniel. Not until we have a better idea of what is happening and why.”
“You don't think he has a right to know?” Christa answered.
“What good would that do?” Desmond replied. “If this return is temporary, and their time is limited, it would only taint it. I don't want that for him. I know that what they are doing is wrong, Christa, and that I have been the catalyst for that. But we can't suggest that to him, not yet.”
“Have you considered that it's the same possibility for Dorian then?” she answered, and he sighed.
“I have. I don't know what magic is at play here, but it is a gift, and it may not last forever.”
Christa was silent a long moment. “I'll teach the class,” she said, and Desmond turned to her.
“What? No, I–”
“Desmond, if Diana walked through those doors right now,” she bit her lip, trying not to show her emotions, “I would not be scheduling anything else in my day. To have a Maestro back after losing them…I can't even imagine. I can't let myself imagine. Please don't take it for granted. ”
He gently put a hand on her back. Diana's death rocked her so hard he wasn't sure that he would ever see her smile. It was only Reynolds' choice to leave their order that had created a sense of shared grief between them, and over that they bonded.
“Thank you,” he said to her.
“Anytime,” Christa replied. “I hope, for both of your sakes, it's all the time. “
Chapter 13
“I'm all right,” Devon assured Sienna when she had broken away from Nathaniel and Eliza to visit with him. He looked much better than he had the night before, sitting cross-legged on his bed. She settled onto his couch, considering whether she should magically ping him to find out if he was telling the truth. But Nathaniel had said that wasn't polite, and so she decided against it. “How are you?”
“Good,” she said. “The Queen of Jeffro is safe.”
“Yeah, I heard about that,” Devon answered. “Have you been to Jeffro?”
“Oh, yes,” Sienna said. “My first mission. And many times since. I am from there.”
“Is that where your adorable accent is from?” he asked, and she blushed. “That's cool. I don't know where I'm from. It's sort of rare, isn't it?”
“I was…” She searched for the right word. “Late.”
“Identified late?” he asked, and she nodded. “That makes sense. It's just the way it is with some. Laura thinks she knows where she is from, but she's always said that it doesn't really matter. This is home.”
“Yes, home,” Sienna brushed the hair out of her eyes as she watched Devon. “Your Maestro is not with you?”
“No,” he answered, confused. “Why would she be?”
“When I am ill, I'm not alone,” she replied, and he shrugged.
“Ah, well, your Maestros are a bit overprotective,” he replied. “Understandably so.”
“Overprotective?” she furrowed her brow. “Is it not all like that?”
“No.” He shook his head with a smile. “But of course, most of the time, there's just one Maestro, so they can't be awake and on duty 24/7. You are lucky.”
“Lucky,” she replied. “Mostly.”
He changed the subject, seeing that it confused her, and held up his tablet instead.
“Are you doing this in class yet?”
The Tiros weren't segregated by age so much as ability in their classes. As they got older, their Maestros sometimes pulled them from classes entirely, choosing to educate them on continuous quests. Sienna knew she would be in school until she was eighteen, aging out and hopefully taking the tests. Devon was a level ahead of her in some classes, and the piloting diaphragm he held up didn't look familiar.
“No,” she shook her head. “Are you stuck?”
“Very,” he answered with a grin. “And if I fail a class, my Maestro will reign terror on me.”
“I know a pilot,” Sienna offered. “She can help.”
“Can she?” Devon asked. “Who do you know?”
“Christa,” she answered. “Desmond's old Tiro. A good pilot.”
“Christa's an amazing pilot,” Devon answered. “I know her by reputation. She could fly through a meteor shower with her eyes closed. Mmm,” he put a hand to his stomach and Sienna tensed. “No, no pain. Hunger. Do you want to get some food?”
“Yes,” she replied. She wasn't really hungry, but she'd go just about anywhere with Devon. “Where?”
“There's a place in town if you want,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “If you're allowed.”
“Of course, I'm allowed,” she cried, even though she knew she should probably ask permission, especially after last time. But Nathaniel was occupied with Eliza, and Desmond with Dorian. They would be back before she was missed. “Quickly?”
“Yes, it's not far,” Devon said, shutting down his tablet and getting up. She saw his shirt shift as he did, and was reminded that he understood her pain and her trials. The pump attached to him was keeping him alive. “Maybe we won't come back.”
“Ha!” she said, knowing he was joking. But there was something in Devon's eyes that made her pause. “Are you…?”
He shook his head. “Mostly joking, yes. But have you ever wondered, what if it doesn't work?”
“What if what doesn't work?” Sienna asked, puzzled. Sometimes, the Basic words were too quick for her.
“This,” he said. “Taking the tests, becoming a full blown witch because our health is a bad luck card.”
“Oh,” she paused. “Once, I thought I would never be trained. But my Maestros have taken me on, and they have promised to never leave.”
“Never?” Devon asked. “Even if you can't take the tests?”
“I will,” she said, with less certainty. “Will you?”
“I don't know,” he answered truthfully. “I am very happy being with Laura, of course. We have a pact to go until we can't go anymore. But I've often thought whether this is how I want to spend the rest of my days.”
“You won't die, Devon.” It was the only thing she could think about saying. Looking right into his eyes, she felt like his very soul was connected to his. She felt like their hearts were one. Their hands pulled together, and she stood up on her tip-toes to kiss him.
How was it possible that she wasn't supposed to love; that she was too young to know what love was? Devon was her mirror image.
“Everyone dies, Sienna,” he answered softly as he brushed her hair back. “These thoughts are too deep for today. Just don't forget them, hmm?”
“Of course not,” she answered as she squeezed his hand. “Food?”
“Yep,” he said as he shut out the lights. “And maybe a surprise or two.”
She grinned as she followed him out the door. Devon was so exciting – so spontaneous; it was addictive. She loved his sense of adventure and his willingness to bend the rules. She felt like she would follow him anywhere. It was the first time in her life where she didn't mind being apart from her Maestros, where she wasn't afraid, and she trusted someone other than them.
He was a miracle.
***
Down the hallway, Nathaniel was also marveling at a miracle. He kissed Eliza's neck and her collarbone, and traced down her chest.
“I thought you were dead,” he said. “And I think that you are dead too often. This can't keep happening.”
“When the explosion rocked us, all I could think about was you. How I wouldn't get to say goodbye to you. I've never envied you having magic; I've never wished it for myself. But in that moment, I hoped that you would hear me.”
“Mmm,” he lay beside her, burying his face in her golden hair. “Magic connects us all, my love. It runs through Nature, and there is Nature everywhere. We are all connected.”
“Your beliefs are so grounding,” she said. “They're so simple and easy in a way.”
“It's not simple or easy,” he said as he rolled onto his back. “But it is worth it, most of the time.”
“Except for when you break the rules.” She squeezed his hand.
“Aye, that's worth it, too,” he answered with a smile. “Desmond has always made it clear that while the Jurors have good ideas, they don't always work in practice.”
“But love does distract you from magic,” she answered. “Obviously.”
“When I was younger, yes,” he replied. “And, well, when we first got Sienna. But now it's different. I understand my duties and where my priorities lie. As you understand yours.”
“I do,” she rolled her head toward him. “But it doesn't mean we can't dream once in a while.”
“Mmm,” he stroked the side of her face. “And dream I do – of all the possibilities, of the way it could work. And should you ever say the words–”
“I won't,” she cut him off, meeting his eyes. “I would never take you away from this. This is what you are meant to do. If you come to me, Nathaniel, it will be under the understanding that you are doing so of your own free will.”
“And that I will never be king,” he answered. She looked down, but he touched her face.
“It's okay,” he said. “Really. This doesn't come as a surprise to me.”
She lay quiet for a moment, her fingertips brushing against his chest. “Sometimes, I wish it didn't. I wish you were a prince and that you could lay beside me every day. But I know that is not the fate life has set for us.”
“Nobody gets to choose their fate,” he answered.
She closed her eyes. “Don't I know it? If I could, my palace would still be there.”
“You must have known there was a threat if you evacuated.”
“Yes,” she answered. “They discovered the bomb, and we had less than three minutes. I barely made it onto the ship before it blew. Luckily, I think the blast doors were completely up, and we were just taking off before it blew. I am missing a bit of memory, but then we were sailing through space, headed to you.”
“We're looking into it,” he assured her. “You're safe here.”
“I will be involved with the investigation, obviously,” she said. “And we will be going back to Jeffro. Just right now, I need to collect my thoughts.”
“Of course,” he said. “Desmond is teaching my class, so we can relax.”
His com-link buzzed then, and he groaned, glancing at it. “Speaking of the devil,” he said as he pulled the com-link toward him. “Aren't you supposed to be teaching my class?”
“Christa is teaching your class,” Desmond answered. “And she'll probably do a better job at it than me. Your Tiro, by the way, was just seen escaping to the city center, arm-in-arm with a certain other Tiro we know.”
“What?” Nathaniel sat up, glancing at the clock. “So it's almost noon. Why are you calling me?”
“Seniority?” Desmond answered. “Unless you don't mind that she's there.” Nathaniel, oddly enough, was the stricter of the two. Desmond suspected it was because he was trying to prove himself, setting out a strategy as a Maestro that was almost impossible to follow.
“I mind,” Nathaniel glanced at Eliza's half-naked body beside him. “Is it Devon who's with her?”
“It is,” Desmond answered. “You should get her. The two of them together are a ticking time bomb.”
“Argh,” Nathaniel answered. “Please don't make me.”
Eliza snorted, sitting beside him, and Desmond overheard. Nathaniel could almost hear him raising an eyebrow over the link.
“One time,” Desmond said.
“Thank you,” Nathaniel answered, disconnecting the link. He sank back down beside Eliza, kissing her face.
“You sounded like you did when we were teenagers,” Eliza said. “Always disobeying him; always fighting him.”
“And look where we ended up,” Nathaniel answered.
“Mmm.” Eliza snuggled up beside him. “I know I'm supposed to be thinking of my people, of my crown, of my planet, but all I can think about right now is this. And you.”
“So take a moment,” Nathaniel answered. “Creator knows you deserve it. You work too hard, Eliza.”
“Or not hard enough,” she answered. She never thought she'd be one of those royals seeking asylum with the safety of the witches. She had heard of how they sheltered so many, but she always secretly judged them. They were weak, they weren't prepared, and they weren't ready for action. She wasn't going to be one of those royals who abandoned her people and her palace and ran for cover.
Except, she was.
She closed her eyes, trying to see the incident, trying to see what happened and how she could retaliate. But it was as if she couldn't remember past the moment she saw Nathaniel an hour ago. She couldn't remember the trip or anything past the explosion.
“I love you,” she muttered to Nathaniel, who pulled her closer.
“I love you, too,” he said, vowing to protect her. Eliza would never be in such danger again. He wasn't sure how he would do it, but he was sure that he would keep her safe as if his life depended on it.
Chapter 14
Sienna wasn't brave enough to take Devon's hand as they walked down the street, but he took hers. She glanced at him, surprised.
“What if people see?”
“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “Your Maestro takes Mariah's arm all the time. No one says anything.”
“That's because she's blind,” Sienna pointed out. “He's helping her. Everyone knows that.”
“Sure,” Devon answered with a smile. “And everyone knows that you're sick. That's not a secret.”
“So are you,” she said quietly.
“But not everyone knows that. Or anyone, mostly,” he answered. “So, to everyone who knows us, I'm just being a big, strong man by helping you.”
She giggled and squeezed his hand.
She felt so normal walking down the street with him. Those who didn't know they were witches would never guess they were anything but a normal couple spending the afternoon together.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, and he pointed ahead.
“Just there. See the yellow sign?”
“Yes,” she said, squinting into the distance. “What kind of place is it?”
“It's just a diner,” he said. “Don't worry. I'm not taking you anywhere questionable.”
“I…Duck!” Sienna suddenly yanked Devon to the side as a few droids barreled toward them at high speed. They startled a flock of birds, and she screamed as she saw two get run over. She and Devon had moved at just the right time, barely an inch from the heavy droids.
It was nothing to be concerned with as a group of kids their age ran after them in alarm. Clearly, playtime had turned dangerous, and by the look of those droids, they weren't toys.
“Yikes,” Devon said. “You saved my life.”
“No,” Sienna shrugged. “You would have jumped.”
Her attention, however, was distracted as she felt a life force start to beat out. She turned toward the flock of birds who were gathering around their fallen friends.
“Oh,” she squeaked as she moved forward. Sienna was so small and so gentle that the birds didn't seem to think that she was a threat at all. Her magic was dancing on her fingers, and Devon was about to call her back to tell her that she couldn't do anything. There were two birds lying on the ground, one half crushed and the other still breathing. It wasn't exactly a pretty sight, and he reached for her shoulder. She crouched down, biting her lip. “No.”
“Sienna,” he started, as she put her magic hands toward the one that was still breathing. It looked frantic and afraid, and yet the light was leaving its eyes. “You can't.”
She turned her head left and right, and then her eyes landed on a patch of flowers.
She knew that she shouldn't do this. She should respect Nature, for it is what gave her the power that danced in her hands.
But it was because of her respect for Nature that she tried to look for a justification. Surely, when there was so much Nature, they wouldn't mind if she took a few flowers from the ground so that this bird could live.
“Sienna,” Devon said, but she closed her eyes, pulling the life force from the flowers.
The bird let out one final chirp and then stopped breathing. It's body deflated, and it flopped to the side.
“No!” Sienna cried, leaning forward. He could physically see the magic dance over her, coming directly from the flowers. They withered in front of him and then drooped, shriveled.
She felt it flow through her and into the bird. In front of Devon's very eyes, to his shock, the broken legs healed, and the bird soon popped up onto its feet, chirping.
He knew what she had done, but he couldn't believe it. That wasn't supposed to be possible.
He heard rumors of what she did with the Queen of Jeffro, but he wondered how much of it was true.
She leaned back, wavering, her breath coming in gasps. She put a hand to her chest, and Devon crouched down, giving her support.
She was in pain. That much was clear. Her fist clenched, and she tried to ride it out.
“Hey, it's okay. It's okay!” He put his arms around her, trying to make sure she stayed conscious. He leaned back and then jumped. He felt a ring of power jump, and time itself froze for a moment.
The other dead bird beside him suddenly moved. It inflated, as if it was never crushed, and slowly rose.
It was confused, looking around. The rest of the flock surrounded it, chirping like mad.
Devon watched, his mouth hanging upon. Maybe Sienna had healed the bird that was just barely dead. There was no other explanation for this, except that it had returned from the dead and done so without her direct touch.
She buried her face in Devon's chest, trembling. He couldn't properly form words as he tried to make sense of what happened.
Suddenly, Desmond was beside them, crouching down. “Sienna, I told you not to do that.”
“Sir!” Devon jumped a few feet in the air. He wasn't sure whether to pull his arms away from Sienna or not, blushing and avoiding Desmond's eyes.
Luckily, the older Maestro didn't seem to be there to scold. “Little one,” he said as he touched her shoulder, and she went toward him, still trembling. “Oh, dear.”
“She just…” Devon said, stuttering. “The bird. The other bird. Dead. So dead.”
Desmond let out a long breath, making sure Sienna stayed upright. He only needed to glance at the flowers to know what happened. The withered apples from Eliza's deathbed on a concrete floor remained in his memory, his jaw equally agape at the time. Since then, they had stopped Sienna from fighting death at every opportunity. She had been so weak after bringing Eliza back all those years ago that they were worried another attempt would kill her. A bird was different from a person, of course, but it was still a risk.
“Are you supposed to do that?” Desmond asked her, and she shook her head meekly. She didn't seem to be able to speak, her jaw clenched. “Why not, hmm? Is this why not?”
She nodded, and he sighed.
“Well,” he said at last, “at least you remember how bad it is. Are you all right, Devon?”
“Yes,” Devon answered, leaning back to sit on the grass. He was torn between being confused and concerned. “Yes, I…how?”
“Sienna is very powerful,” Desmond answered. “But that much power has compromises.”
“I understand the one bird,” Devon said. “But how did you do the other one?”
She pulled her head from Desmond's chest, pale as a ghost. Despite how she was feeling, she still managed to look confused.
“One,” she said, pointing to the spot where she had resurrected the poor creature.
“Yes, that one,” Devon answered. “But there was another one over here, remember? It wasn't even a bird anymore, and yet it just got up and walked away.”
“No,” she said, confused as her head turned toward the spot. “Oh. There was one there.”
“Well, no wonder you feel so sick, if you resurrected two,” Desmond answered.
“She didn't even touch it,” Devon said. “It was osmosis.”
“Well, two birds will probably bring you a worm in the morning.” Desmond smiled at her. “But you can't do that, Sienna. Not now. One day, we will learn how to control your powers without making you sick. But until then, you have to take care of your gift. If you lose yourself, you won't be able to help anywhere. Do you understand?”
She blinked, looking away, and he switched methods.
‘There will be no one to bring you back, little one, if you push too hard.’
Their bond always hit her harder than words, and she looked up, seeming to understand. Her noticed the dampness of her forehead and wondered if she was running a fever again. Regardless, he knew they were in for a tough few days. She would be wrecked from this encounter, and it wasn't the best timing.
He very rarely got angry, and he wasn't about to discipline Devon, especially when he was trying to keep Sienna's vitals at the front of his mind. But he needed to get the message across, and he wasn't sure Laura was going to do so.
“Devon, have you done your medic's training yet?” Desmond asked. Devon's eyes widened, and he shook his head.
“No, sir. The basics, yes, but I'm not on track to be a medic.”
“I know you have experience,” Desmond said quietly, “but you are not training for the medical field at all?”
“No,” Devon answered. “My Maestro is a diplomat. So, if I get there, that's probably what I'll be.”
“Ah,” Desmond said. “So, you have no supplies and no training if she were to seize, if she were to crack her head, if she were to stop breathing?”
“No, sir,” Devon replied.
“This is why Sienna is watched over as closely as she is,” Desmond said, pulling her trembling body closer. She was warmer by the second, and he feared where this was headed. “There are no medicines, Devon, like there are for you. There is no cure – no relief for the pain. You are lucky. No one has ever told you that, have they?”
“No,” Devon admitted.
“This is not lucky. Never forget that,” Desmond said, as he adjusted his position. He knew she was going to seize; he had seen it enough times. For her sake, he hated that it was going to be in public, on the side of the road, but they had no choice.
Her body jerked back, and he managed to get her onto her side before the seizure took its effect. He had been through so many of them in the past few years, keeping his mind locked on hers, making sure she wasn't hurt. Devon moved forward, but Desmond put his hand out to stop him. With a bit of sadness, he noted that the boy didn't look scared, just concerned. But then, one who had grown up in the med bay and who had a permanent IV probably was jaded.
None of these kids should be jaded by these things, Desmond thought, even as he held Sienna in place. Why? Why them?
“Can I do something?” Devon answered. “Will she be all right?”
“No,” Desmond answered, although he half felt like he was lying. “Just sit there and wait. You can't do anything.”
“She should have help,” Devon said. “I mean, I should have seizures, too, but–”
“But those medications will likely kill her,” Desmond said. “Anything she does not suffer from is because Nathaniel and I have figured out on our own. The rest her body goes through because it's better than medications, which cause her acridid gene to rage harder. You can't begin to imagine how complicated this is.”
“No,” Devon answered quietly. She was still now, and he reached out to squeeze her hand. “I'm sorry.”
Desmond sighed. “There is nothing to be sorry about, Devon,” he said. “Perhaps you just had to see this to understand that the life you seem to want to live is not one Sienna can be involved in.”
Devon felt his stomach sink. “You don't want us to be friends?”
“I don't want her to be hurt.” Desmond met his eyes, the double meaning thick in his voice. “Is that clear?”
Devon said nothing to that, sinking back onto his heels.
This was more complicated than he thought. But it didn't change the way he felt about her or the way he loved her laugh and her smile.
And it didn't explain how a bird that was nothing but a puddle of organs came back to life, without so much as her touch.
Chapter 15
“Hey,” Laura said when she found Devon sitting in his room three hours later. When they were at the Academy, they usually didn't see each other until mealtimes. They were perfectly happy to spend every waking moment together when they were on a quest, but they were equally happy to be apart all day when they needed to be. She was grateful for this type of bond and sense of comfort. She had heard horror stories of one's first Tiro, and also of opposite gender pairings. But Devon had been a blessing from the moment she connected with him – the perfect match.
She didn't even consider his illness a hardship. It was something that she saw as a challenge for both of them, and the cards the universe had dealt. No matter how many Tiros she had from here on out, she would always see Devon as the perfect one.
Currently, she was concerned. She had met Nathaniel in the hallway and received an earful from him as they crossed paths. Witches didn't usually get angry, nor did they raise their voices at other Maestros. But Nathaniel had words to say to her about Devon, which raised her anxiety.
“What did you leave the Academy to do this afternoon?”
“Get ice cream at the diner downtown,” Devon answered, turning off his tablet. “That's it.”
“That's it?” Laura raised an eyebrow. “So why did I just get an earful from Nathaniel in the hallway?”
“He yelled at you?” Devon answered, sitting up properly. “He doesn't have a right to yell at you.”
She smiled at him. “You let me stand up for you. That's my job. I can take it. But what happened? All I got was reckless, sneaky, and med bay.”
“Oh, Creator.” Devon shook his head and pointed to the chair in his room. Laura shut his door, taking a seat. “We didn't even get ice cream. Sienna saw a bird get run over, and she tried to save it. She did save it, actually. But that amount of magic made her sick.”
“You know that healing power is complicated,” Laura said. “That's way we don't teach it until much later.”
“It wasn't healing power,” Devon answered. “It died. She resurrected it.”
“Huh,” Laura said. “I thought that was just a rumor.”
“Guess not,” Devon replied. “I mean, it's amazing. It was stunning to watch, and it comes so natural, like she doesn't even need training.”
“Except for the med bay part,” Laura pointed out.
“Except for the med bay part,” Devon admitted with a sigh. “I don't know how she does that. I would die.”
“You would, in fact, die,” Laura answered. “I find it ironic that Nathaniel gave me a lecture on appropriateness given his attitude toward things.”
“Do you think I did something wrong?” Devon asked, and her brow furrowed.
“Of course not,” she said. “You know my feelings on the matter. I think it's a stupid rule, and so long as it doesn't affect your magic, your spare time is your own. Both her Maestros subscribe to that theory, whether they want to admit it or not, so they are hypocrites.”
He sighed. “He really yelled?”
“He's on edge.” Laura put her feet up. She was so glad Devon was the age he was now so she could talk to him like an adult.
“Is she going to be all right?”
“Odds are as good as always,” she shrugged. But she picked up something in his thoughts then that concerned her. “What is it?”
“She…” He fought for the words to describe it so that he didn't sound crazy. “She resurrected the one bird, Laura. But there was a second one a few inches off that was complete road kill. And that one just got up and walked away.”
“She healed two?”
“She didn't heal two,” he said. “One had literally died, and she brought it back seconds after. Healing, sure, but I'm pretty sure it was dead. But this other one – no amount of healing could bring it back. It didn't even look like a bird anymore. She transferred life force from the flowers, I saw them shrivel. But none of that explains how a puddle of bird guts got up and walked away when she didn't even touch it; didn't even notice it. I'm pretty sure she was in my arms when it did so; she wasn't paying it any sort of attention.”
“Huh,” Laura said, sitting back. “You realize what you're saying–”
“Sounds beyond impossible. Beyond crazy,” Devon said. “Resurrection alone is not even possible.”
“Except for her,” his Maestro said.
“Sure. Fine, let's assume that. But without touching it? Without directing magic toward it? She was clearly drained. So, even if we assume resurrection is real, you can't do magic on that scale without paying attention.”
Laura cocked her head. “Well, that doesn't make any sense. And you're sure of what you saw?”
“Without a doubt,” he replied. “There's something else at play here. I'm telling you.”
“You don't think she's using unnatural magic?” she put it as delicately as she could.
“No,” Devon was firm on that. “I would have felt that; I know what it feels like. There was nothing like that. When that bird regrouped, there was almost no magic. Just this weird jolt.”
“Jolt?” Laura asked.
“I can't describe it,” he shook his head. He met Laura's eyes. “She really is something, isn't she?”
Laura smiled. “She is,” she said. “They are smart to have swooped her up. Not as smart as me, though, for getting you.”
Devon smiled. “Can I see her? Or are her Maestros going to have me arrested?”
“I wouldn't go tonight,” Laura answered. “They likely won't leave her side. But tomorrow, you might find a quiet moment. Are you all right? No new aches or pains?”
“I'm fine,” Devon said. “I would tell you if I wasn't.”
“I know you would,” Laura smiled, getting up. “You're a good kid; you never give me a reason to worry. I'm going to go to the library to see if I can find any information about what you are talking about. I'll ping you if I do. You should get your homework done, though.”
“Okay.” He was usually easy going, and this was no exception. “Sure, that's fine. I'll call you if I die.”
“Preferably a few minutes before,” she replied as she left. She tried to smile, but she hated when he said things like that. Devon seemed to take his own mortality with a grain of salt, as if he was invincible. She knew he was not, but she was grateful that when it happened, it would likely be painless, and easy, just as Devon lived.
Nathaniel's lecture had caught her off guard, and she replayed it in her head as she walked to the library.
“How dare your Tiro take mine off and nearly get her killed? How have you raised him for such reckless behavior?”
She had been confused and then defensive, trying to understand how Nathaniel could go from making love to her to screaming in less than half a day. The presence of the Queen of Jeffro surely had something to do with it – she knew they had a relationship – but his tone seemed uncalled for.
“I'm sorry?” she had answered in confusion. “My Tiro has never–”
“You will control him, Laura, before he gets Sienna killed,” Nathaniel had growled. “She doesn't need that in her life. She can barely live her life as it is. She doesn't need another week in the med bay and another memory of what she could do if she was only willing to kill herself.”
She didn't envy the position Nathaniel and Desmond were in, not in the slightest. But she hoped if she were ever in that position that she would handle it with more grace and dignity. Or, at the very least, less panic and terror than Nathaniel had rained down on her.
Did he think she didn't understand about fragile Tiros? About worrying whether it was going to be a night's sleep that separated their bond forever, rather than a noble quest? Did he think she had it easy just because Devon usually felt no pain?
It almost made it worse in her mind, because his death would likely come without warning or without a chance to say goodbye.
Moreover, how dare Nathaniel scream at her about inappropriate relationships, given what they had gotten into?
She was seeing red by the time she stormed into the library. It was silent as a tomb, and she felt her footsteps were disturbing the ancient texts that surrounded her. The witches' library was stocked floor to ceiling with more information than any one person could read in one lifetime. Their library was their pride and joy, and often the place older witches ended their career. Only those elderly, wise witches worked the library floor, having access to a wealth of information.
Today, the librarian was paging through an ancient tome, taking delicate notes. She looked up, but Laura shook her head, indicating that she didn't need help.
Looking around at the stacks, Laura headed toward the advanced section. Although half the library was digitized in files so large that she wouldn't know where to start, some were still in old tomes.
She didn't really know where to look when she got there. As good as she was at diplomacy, Laura never considered herself advanced at magic. Her tests had marked her in the average section when it came to the complicated tricks they had to do, and she found herself using magic less than her colleagues. To be in the advance section, with spells that were scrawled over three pages, and techniques that took an entire book to explain; she felt so out of her depth.
She was surprised, though, to find that she wasn't alone.
A Maestro she had seen around before lingered in the back, running her finger over the tomes, clearly looking for something specific. She was so focused on her task that she nearly ran smack into Laura.
“Oops,” Christa said, turning to her. “Sorry…Oh, hi!”
“Hi,” Laura said, extending her hand. “Christa, right? You're a pilot?”
“I am,” Christa smiled. “And you are the magnificent Devon's Maestro, yes? He excels in the simulations.”
“He’d better,” Laura said with a smile. “I expect him to start driving me around next year.”
“He'll be ready,” Christa said. “Sorry I bumped into you, my mind is elsewhere.”
“What are you looking for?” Laura asked. “Not that I can be much help. I'm not often in this section.”
“Neither am I,” Christa answered. “I'm looking for books on the theory of resurrection or maybe advanced healing.”
Laura froze. “Any particular reason?”
“Uh…” Christa guarded her answer. “Just a theory. You?”
“Same,” Laura answered. “Exact same.”
The two women locked eyes, and then Christa sighed.
“I'm trying to figure out if the Queen of Jeffro is dead. Resurrected, to be exact. Please don't tell anyone. That would be heresy, I think.”
“Ah,” Laura answered. “The palace explosion and the Ronan reappearance. Of course. It all makes sense. Or, rather, it doesn't.”
“Exactly,” Christa said. “What's your reasoning?”
Laura decided she could trust Christa, or at least risk sounding crazy without judgment.
“My Tiro thinks he saw a resurrection today – one without touch. I'm trying to find an explanation.”
“Are you talking about Sienna and the birds?” Christa asked, and Laura looked surprised. “Desmond was my Maestro,” the older woman explained. “We're still close.”
“Oh,” Laura answered. “In which case, maybe we could help each other?”
“Of course,” Christa smiled. “Why don't you start on that end, and just holler if you find anything?”
“Not sure the librarian would like that,” Laura grinned as she moved down the stacks. “But I'm all for breaking the rules.”
Chapter 16
“How are you?” Mariah took a seat beside Desmond, startling him. He had his eyes closed, sitting by Sienna's bedside, but he had told himself that he wasn't sleeping. The fact that he jerked when she sat down and that he hadn't sensed her were proof that he probably was.
His face softened as she pulled her chair up closer to his side. Touch was so much more important to her since she had lost her sight. She reached for his arm and laid her head on his shoulder more often. Perhaps it was a moment of vulnerability, or perhaps it was replacing her lost sight, but either way, he didn't mind. They were alone in Sienna's med bay room, except for his Tiro, who was fast asleep.
She had seized so many times in the first three nights that Tara had almost given up. Desmond had eventually overridden Nathaniel's choice of only chemicals for a natural medicine that would stop them, just for a ray of hope. This was not quite what they were used to.
“She's been out for hours, but she needs it,” Desmond said softly, and Mariah smiled.
“I know. I didn't ask about her, although I am always glad to hear of news. I asked how you were. It's late, you shouldn't be on duty.”
“Nathaniel needed to sleep,” Desmond replied. “He can't run on nothing all day and all night. He teaches every course, spends every waking moment trying to work on what happened with Jeffro, and then sits here until he can't anymore. Thank Creator for Eliza's distraction to force him to spend time with her, or he would never stop.”
“I don't think a Maestro has ever been glad of his former Tiro being taken to bed,” Mariah snorted. “But in this case, I agree.”
“Me too,” Desmond squeezed his hand. “I won't sit here all night, but I like to be close just in case.”
“This time is different, eh?” Tara answered, and Desmond winced.
“Yes,” he answered. “It's certainty been a closer call for longer. The Jurors have removed her from two mission bids we had already, and I'm sure next week will be the same. The only thing that keeps us from being inactive is a medical exemption. Otherwise, we would lose our status.”
“You're doing the right thing,” Mariah said, laying her head on his shoulder. “And you know that if there was ever a quest you needed to go on, I would stay with her.”
“I know,” he said as he stroked her hair. “I know. I am so grateful for you, Mariah. You have always been here for me.”
“How is Dorian coping with a return to the world fifteen years later?” she asked, trying to get a smile out of him. “Has he learned the new updates to the tablets yet? Or is he still working on the old system?”
“It's jarring,” Desmond answered. “I feel like I am explaining something new to him every day. It's almost as if the roles are reversed. But I have to admit, of all the times for him to come back and guide me this is probably a good one.”
“I still feel like that,” Mariah said with a smile. “Even though we are the old, wise Maestros, we need help from time to time.”
“Well, he gave Nathaniel a meter of discipline for raising his voice in the hall the other day,” Desmond said. “So there's that.”
Mariah chuckled, enjoying their closeness and their moment alone. It was times like this that she felt the most connected to him, when they could share their joys and fears in simple sentences. Without Desmond, she knew she wouldn't have been able to regain her independence or her life after her accident. It was only because of his belief in her strength that she learned to work again.
They were both so lost in the moment that they didn't notice the curtain slide back. Tara came through, clearly expecting Desmond and Sienna to be in the exact position she had left them an hour ago.
She didn't expect Desmond to be cuddling like a teenager with Maestro Mariah.
Both of them jumped three feet in the air, turning to Tara. The healer chose her words carefully.
“I didn't realize you were busy,” she said.
Desmond cleared his throat. “Are you just doing a vital check?” he asked. “She seems stable.”
“I could do a vital check a lot easier from my station if you'd let me use magic,” Tara answered. Desmond cocked his head, annoyed.
“We've been over this,” he said. “It's late, Tara, and you know our wishes.”
“That I do,” she answered, looking between Desmond and Mariah again. Neither of them could say anything without causing guilt, and so they said nothing, hoping for the awkwardness of the moment to be over. Tara eventually tore her gaze away, and leaned over to Sienna, putting a hand on her wrist.
“Isn't Nathaniel the night contact?” she asked Desmond as she looked at her watch.
“He is, normally,” Desmond answered, “but I sent him to get some rest.”
“He'd rest better if the Queen of Jeffro wasn't in his bed,” Tara answered.
Desmond growled at that. “I'm sorry?”
“You heard me,” Tara spun around. “Clearly, I see where he gets it.”
Desmond held her gaze.
“Do you have something to say, Tara? Because it was my impression that you chose a medic's path, not a Juror's path.”
“I could have…” she started, her blood boiling. She hated that they came in here and threatened her medical opinion, and dismissed it for their alternative and, in her opinion, dangerous theories. It was no question in her mind why she saw Sienna get worse year after year. Yes, the acridid gene should have killed her by now. But on a scale of progression, Tara was torn between reporting them for neglect or not.
Sienna suddenly gasped as if she had to get every bit of oxygen into her lungs. Everyone turned their attention toward her as the monitors started to beep. Her oxygen stats fell, and her eyes flew open as she fought for breath.
“Creator,” Tara swore as she moved quickly, trying to find the problem. She hit the alarm, and two other healers rushed in, assessing the damage.
“What's happening?” Desmond's calm demeanor slipped away as he stood up. Mariah pushed her chair back, and it clattered to the floor, sensing the panic in the room. “Tara. Tara!”
“Shut up a second!” Tara snapped at him, her eyes on fire. “I'm trying to figure it out, but her acridid genes block half our systems. Yasmine?”
The other healer knew that she wasn't allowed to use magic as an assessment, but it was against the clock. She took Tara's nod as permission and put her hands on Sienna's chest, flooding her system with sensing magic.
Sienna choked, and the color slipped from her face as she fought for breath.
The red magic created a diagram of her body, and Tara could see the issue right away. “Her lung collapsed,” she said, and the other healers worked in tandem, grabbing the necessary supplies. “Move fast, ladies.”
“Sienna!” Desmond moved at lightning speed to roll her over. She threw up on the floor, the fact made much more miserable by barely being able to breathe. “Tara, you were not to use that magic on her.” He was angry, and the whole room knew it.
“And if I didn't, she would have died,” Tara snapped, but Desmond was past reason.
“You directly disobeyed an order that I, as a senior Maestro, gave you,” he snapped back at her. His rage grew by the fact that his Tiro fought for air and convulsed in pain. “Remove yourself from this case. Now.”
“Desmond…” Mariah put a hand on his shoulder.
“No,” he gritted his teeth. “She put her in danger when I–”
“Desmond, let GO!” Tara wrenched Sienna out of his grip, recognizing the signs of aspiration. “Suction, now.”
“We can't suction and inflate!” Yasmine protested, but Tara shook her head.
“You're going to have to,” she said, glancing at the failing stats. “You have one minute to do both or we're going to lose her.”
“She would not be aspirating if you didn't use magic on her!” Desmond snapped.
Mariah wrapped her hands around his waist, pulling him back. “Desmond, come here,” she said. “Stay back. Let them work. Please, let them work.”
Her touch was just enough to get him to drop his voice, but she could feel him shaking in anger. He had seen the horrors of war and had witnessed death, destruction, and gore. But nothing compared to watching his Tiro fight for life in front of him.
‘Sienna,’ he reached for her through his bond, grasping Mariah's hand for strength. ‘Stay with me, little one. Stay with me.’
“Desmond!” Wherever Nathaniel had been, he had felt the disturbance in the magic. He rushed into the curtained room, his shirt undone. The lipstick stain on his collarbone was broadly visible, and his cheeks were flushed.
Sienna's vitals flatlined, and Nathaniel howled, dreading that sound.
“No!” he screamed out, and Mariah grabbed him as well. She was small, and she couldn't hold the two of them back with sheer force. It was only the bond, the love between them as a family that kept them back. “NO!”
“Gavoline, 400 mg,” Tara said, and Yasmine opened the cart. “Push it hard, and if that doesn't work…”
‘Sienna,’ Nathaniel searched for the bond that he gotten used to.
“Not like this,” Nathaniel spoke out loud. “Not like this, please.”
“600 mg,” Tara said, watching the monitor
“But that will–” Yasmine said, and Tara cut her off.
“She'll be dead either way then.”
Nathaniel felt his knees go weak, and he squeezed Mariah's hand.
The second needle didn't make a difference. Tara took a deep breath.
“I can't give her anymore,” Tara said. “It won't make a difference.”
“No,” Desmond said in a broken voice. “No. Try again, Tara! You got us into this mess–”
“You got her into this mess!” Tara yelled. “Had you been paying attention to facts instead of distracting yourself–”
“Tara, please try something else,” Nathaniel managed. “Please!”
“I can't,” Tara held her hands up. “There's nothing to try.”
Silence fell over the room, and no one dared to move.
“This is how it ends?” Nathaniel turned to Desmond, brokenhearted. He sounded like a small child again – so lost.
‘Maestro?’ Her body shifted, and then her eyes flew open. Her newly inflated lungs took in their first gasps of air, and her eyes leaked tears as she came back to consciousness.
“Oh, Creator,” Nathaniel reached forward, grabbing her hand. “I'm here, little one. I'm here.”
Desmond, however, had a different reaction. He cast his eyes across the bed to Tara.
“You're off the case,” he said calmly. “You will not be near my Tiro again, do you hear me?”
“You can't do that, Desmond,” she said, her jaw set. “I just saved her life.”
“After you almost killed her,” Desmond answered. “And disobeying the wishes of her Maestro, which in the end, is the ultimate line. I will report you to the Jurors for the damage you caused.”
“Oh, will you?” Tara said, raising an eyebrow and looking between him and Mariah. “I imagine I'll get there first.”
And with that, she swept out of the room.
Chapter 17
Laura's com-link beeped, and she jumped. She and Christa had been bent over their books in the middle of the library for hours. They had created chaos of the advanced magic section, unshelving nearly every book. They had narrowed it down to a few topics they thought would help them, and they were deep into the dusty tomes.
“Ah,” she said as Christa looked up, “my Tiro.”
“I should get another one of those one day,” Christa said as Laura answered the call.
“Devon? Are you all right?”
“I'm fine,” Devon answered. “But you may want to come watch the gates of hell open up.”
“Sorry?” Laura asked, confused, and then lowered her voice when the librarian glared at her.
“Maestro Desmond and Maestro Mariah are being called in front of the Jurors for improper conduct right now.”
“Holy…” Laura said as Christa's head popped up.
“What?”
“What happened?” Laura asked as she stood up. She picked up the book she was halfway through. Christa was equally in a rush, listening carefully.
“No idea,” Devon answered. “I went to the cafeteria, and it was like the march of the damned.”
“Oh, my God,” Christa said, her hands shaking. “I told them this would happen.”
“This is ridiculous,” Laura said, as she promised Devon she would be there in a moment. “It's not like we haven't all been in that position.”
Christa paused, and Laura felt her stomach sink.
“I mean, some of us. This life isn't easy, and we've all been tempted at some point.”
“Temptation is not action,” Christa replied. “Nor is it prosecution. But Desmond was my Maestro, and I need to find out what's happening.”
“Right,” Laura felt her walls go up a bit more with the older woman. She had heard of witches being prosecuted for improper conduct, but she always thought they were just sloppy or careless. She had never seen Desmond and Mariah do anything improper. But what their Tiros knew, however, was a different story. From the look on Christa's face, she could see they knew more than what was in the public eye.
They made it out of the library just as the procession walked by. Christa's heart sank as she saw the way they were being escorted. It meant they had serious allegations against them, because the guards were on either side. They had their heads held high, and their wrists weren't bound, but they might as well have been.
“Desmond,” Christa said, getting his attention. She joined the procession, walking on the outside. The guards shifted, but she didn't try to push past them, and so they let her walk. “What can I do?”
“Christa,” Desmond gritted his teeth, “Nathaniel and Sienna are still in the med bay. Go there, take care of them.”
“Of course,” she said. She knew there was no point in asking him what the hell was going on. She could only offer her assistance as this played out. “Anything you need.”
“Do not let Tara near Sienna,” Desmond said, as they turned to the corner. “I don't care if you have to take her off-planet. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Christa answered, as they went through the sliding doors. She touched Laura's arm, “I'm sorry. I have to go.”
“Of course,” Laura said. “Everyone is going to be abuzz with this in a moment. I should find my Tiro before this gets out of hand.”
“I'll see you,” Christa said, and headed down the hallway. It was only once she was halfway to the med bay that she had a vague memory of Nathaniel and Laura standing way too closely in the cafeteria.
Christa was starting to wonder if she was the only witch who could keep her hands to herself.
The sliding glass doors to the med bay opened, and she went straight through. But when she got to the room where Sienna had been kept, it was empty.
She spun around to find a passing healer.
“My apologies, I must be lost. I'm looking for Sienna? She was right here?”
“Sienna was discharged an hour ago,” the healer answered in a surly tone. “I have no idea where her Maestro has taken her. Good luck to her.”
“Discharged?” Christa answered in shock. “She was in no shape to be discharged.”
“I agree,” the healer paused. “But that was her Maestro's choice.”
“What in the world…?” Christa said as the healer walked away. She closed her eyes, searching the magic. She was a practical woman, and she wasn't about to run through the entire school, looking for Nathaniel and Sienna.
She wasn't bonded to either of them, but they both had a connection to Desmond, and so she attempted to route her magic backward through the bond. It was neither advanced or an exact science, but after a moment, she found Nathaniel's energy in the residential area.
When Desmond had taken her on, she had never thought she'd be the one rescuing him. She was so lost, so hurt, and she thought she would never pull herself out of her dark mind. She missed Diana so much, and yet, Desmond had healed that wound and made her a witch again. Now, he was counting on her.
She placed her palm onto Nathaniel's door, knowing that she was pre-approved. It slid open, and sure enough, there was Sienna, crashed out on his bed and breathing a bit raggedly. Nathaniel and Queen Eliza were sitting at the desk, and no one looked top form.
“Creator, Nathaniel, what's happening?” Christa asked as she felt Sienna's life force. “She shouldn't be here.”
“Tara nearly killed her,” Nathaniel answered grimly. “Desmond and I are done with the med bay here.”
“And somehow this turned into prosecution for Desmond for a relationship he's had for almost forty years?” Christa asked, confused.
“Tara's revenge,” Nathaniel answered. “And I'm sure this is just the beginning”
“Which explains why you two are hiding out here. No offense, your highness,” Christa answered as she sat at the edge of the bed. “She's in rough shape, Nathaniel. This is dangerous.”
“Don't I know it,” Nathaniel answered, biting his lip. Christa noted he had a grip on Eliza's hand. “I don't know what to do.”
“Where were you?”
“Library,” Christa answered, not thinking. “Laura and I were just…” And then she stopped herself, remembering that she wasn't going to mention that part to Nathaniel.
“Laura?” Nathaniel asked.
Eliza picked up on that tone. “Who's Laura?”
“Devon's Maestro,” Nathaniel answered smoothly. “The boy Sienna has been hanging around.”
“The blonde one?” Eliza answered. “She's pretty.”
“She's all right,” Nathaniel said, but his voice was practically an admission of guilt. Eliza looked like she wanted to say something, but kept her mouth closed. “What were you doing in the library with her?”
“Just killing time,” Christa answered. “I ran into her there. Anyway, what's your plan? Because until the Jurors present a case, we can't do anything. You know that.”
“So I just sit here and wait?” Nathaniel asked. He looked haggard, and Christa didn't blame him. Desmond was in trouble, Eliza's planet was in jeopardy, and Sienna needed help. He was torn in three different directions, and none of them had easy solutions. “I hate this.”
“Let's deal with this first,” Christa said, touching Sienna's wrist. “Tell me the truth, Nathaniel. If you keep her here, are you experienced enough to deal with what she might need? The way she is now?”
Nathaniel let out a long breath. “Maybe. So long as she gets better and not worse. She slipped because of what Tara did, not of her own accord. So we might be alright. But without Desmond…you know, it's so…” his face twisted. “It's stupid. Desmond has never been anything but devoted to the magic or the cause. Whether or not he's with Mariah should not matter.”
Christa gave him a painful smile. “You and I both know that Desmond has walked a grey line for a very long time. And while it's worked in his favor, the Jurors have never been pleased with it. Everyone is going to have to be more careful from now on.”
“I would take her to Jeffro,” Eliza said softly, “but the most advanced medical facility was in the palace. So obviously, that's not an option right now. I was due to speak to the Jurors at this moment, by the way. So my case has been sidelined.”
“You were supposed to speak to the Jurors now?” Christa's head whirled. “But they bumped you?”
Eliza looked confused. “Yes.”
“They can't do that,” Christa was recalling ancient systems into existence in her mind. “Your case is more pressing. Granting asylum is a human rights issue, and in addition, royalty has been attacked.”
“But I am currently safe,” Eliza pointed out. “And there have been no more attacks on Jeffro. Whoever was behind it wanted me dead, and me alone.”
“It doesn't matter,” Christa spoke quickly. “You are queen, so it overtakes any of our issues. It's an old law, but one that might work in our favor. As witches, we serve others before ourselves. You have to go now.”
“Go where?” Eliza asked, confused.
“Take her to the Jurors, Nathaniel,” Christa said. “And invoke the law of deliverance. They have to hear her case before Desmond's. And if you can drag it out long enough, it might give us more time to help Desmond.”
Nathaniel turned frantically to his lover. “Can you draw it out?”
“Nathaniel, I am a queen,” Eliza answered. “I can stand in front of the Jurors and speak for hours on end if I have to. Days. But are you sure this will work?”
“Yes,” Christa answered. “But you need to go fast before they see them. I'll stay with Sienna, Nathaniel.”
“Are you sure?” Nathaniel answered cautiously. “I mean–”
“I'm not going to let anything happen to her,” Christa assured him. “Just as I never let anything happen to you in your youth. She is my Maestro's Tiro; she takes priority.”
Nathaniel looked torn, but eventually accepted the offer. “Thank you,” he answered. “I appreciate it. Call me if anything happens.”
“Distract them,” Christa said. “That's all you need to do. Desmond will figure this out, I promise you. And Nathaniel?”
“Hmm?” he asked.
“Let go of Eliza's hand,” Christa gave them both a look. “Considering the situation…”
“Right,” Nathaniel looked guilty.
Eliza rolled her eyes, “For the record, I respect the witches. But I think this rule the worst one.”
“There's a rule about apologizing to flowers we step on,” Christa pointed out, and Eliza gaped. “Go, before it's too late.”
The two of them left the room, and Christa sighed, turning to Sienna. “So, little one,” she said as she opened the book she brought with her. “Let's figure out exactly what kind of magic you've gotten into, hmm?”
Sienna didn't answer, and Christa bent over the text, skimming it for ideas. She had a feeling that she wasn't going to like what she found, but she knew she had to move forward. If Eliza was actually dead, and Desmond was to be prosecuted, it was very possible that Christa would become responsible for Sienna. And she needed to understand exactly what she was capable of before it was too late.
Chapter 18
“When you said you felt a jolt, was it like this?” Laura handed Devon the book that she had been pouring over when he had called her. They were sitting in the common room, and everyone around them was swirling with the news of Desmond and Mariah. Laura was trying to get him to ignore the buzz and focus. She knew that he was worried about Sienna, but at the moment, he wasn't getting anywhere close to her. She pointed to a circle drawn in the book, and indicated the description.
Devon's head ducked down, skimming it.
When the wall between life and death is breached, it is felt by Nature, which is theorized to collapse around the spell. This collapse is believed to open a door between the living and the dead. A ripple effect could possibly be seen as Nature recovers from the spell. How far the ripple travels could depend on how powerful the spell is. Those brought back when the ripple happens are thought to be short-term returns.
“Wow,” Devon looked up at her. “I didn't think it was even possible.”
“As you can see,” Laura replied. “Even the book isn't sure. But does that sound like what you felt?”
“Yeah,” Devon answered, biting his lip. “It certainty felt like a jolt; it could totally have been a collapse. And then if there is a ripple effect, that would make sense about the other bird.”
“I can believe that,” Laura said. “The bird was only a few feet away, right?”
“Yes,” Devon answered. “And you have to believe me, Laura. I do healing magic, too. There's no way she could have simply just healed it.”
“I believe you,” Laura answered, skimming down the book. “Look, here,” she pointed to another section, her eyes wide.
It's thought that only witches who walk the line between life and death – who know that door well – can perform this type of magic. Their magic exists in both the world of the living and the world of the dead as it returns to Nature.
“Holy…” Devon said. “That sounds like her, doesn't it?”
“It does,” Laura answered. “Although, who would have thought that would work in her favor?”
Devon leaned back in disbelief. “I wonder if I can do that.”
Laura gave him a painful smile. “I don't think so,” she said. “You don't know that line, Devon. At least, not yet. And I pray that you never walk that line; that it is swift and painless, not long and drawn out.”
Devon blinked, grateful for his caring Maestro. “So, if she can bring people back from the dead, are they immortal? Do they live until they die again? Does it say?”
“All of this is theory, Devon,” Laura replied. “There's a case of a witch about two-hundred years ago who brought back her Maestro from a knife attack, and a nurse who had died in the attack walked out of the morgue that day.”
Devon shivered at that thought. He had seen dead bodies, and it seemed to be the one thing that stunned him into silence. “What happened?” he asked, not wanting to read anymore.
Laura paused, reading the rest of the article. “The nurse lived for about a week, and then she just died. The Maestro was brought back from direct magic, so she lived, it seemed, until natural causes took her.”
“Why don't we know about this?” Devon asked. “Why wouldn't anyone have heard of it?”
“A couple of reasons,” Laura replied. “The pair was on suspension and likely to be cast out of the order for disorderly contact. But in addition, this kind of magic, Devon, goes against Nature. It's unlikely that the Jurors would want to remember this kind of case. They'd be likely to bury it and ignore it.”
“But if it's real,” Devon said. “Then the people who have returned aren't going to be here for long. So, I guess we'll find out, shortly. We can't tell anyone about this.”
“What?” Laura answered, shocked. “Why not? This is a breakthrough.”
“And against Nature,” he answered. “She'll be damned for it. They'll judge her. She has enough problems already.”
“Oh, Devon,” she said. “You kind hearted sap.”
“But it's true, and you know it,” he replied. “If everyone knows she can do this, they'll judge her; they'll tell her she's not a real witch. But she is. She's more powerful than any of us know, and we should be in awe or learning from her. But they aren't going to be doing that, are they?”
“I don't know,” his Maestro answered truthfully.
“You should tell her Maestros,” Devon said. “They'll decide what to do. If it was me, wouldn't you want to decide whether that information goes public or not?”
“You're quite protective of her, hmm?” Laura asked with a smile.
Devon shrugged. “I like her. I really like her.”
She paused, and then decided to let it go. “Yes, if it was you, I would want someone to tell me,” she said. “And I'd decide whether the world can know or not. Her Maestros have quite a bit on their plates right now, though.”
“I know,” Devon leaned back. “What do you think will happen to Desmond and Mariah?”
“I don't know,” Laura answered truthfully. “He's quite senior, but that has never stopped them before. Whatever happens, though, is a lesson to all of us. To follow the rules. To be more careful.”
“I'm always careful,” Devon answered back, feeling invincible.
“So were they,” Laura said. “Let's see if you can say that in forty years.”
“Won't be here in forty years,” Devon quipped back, and Laura looked away. That much was true, and who was she to deny him happiness before then?
“Come on, kiddo,” she said at last, standing up. “I need to feed you, and then you need to do homework before we go.”
“Go?” Devon answered in surprise. “Where are we going?”
“Despite all this swirling around us, we still have a quest to head out on. Three days from now, and it will be a two-day journey to the outer rim. So make sure to get what you need from your teachers, and pack for about three months.”
“We can't go for three months,” Devon said, and Laura raised an eyebrow.
“Why not?”
“Because what if…” Devon couldn't bring himself to say it. “Something happens?”
“We first serve Nature,” Laura answered, and he knew he couldn't fight that. Everything they stood for was because of that phrase. If he denied it, he would deny everything else.
“Of course,” Devon said at last. “But I do want to see her before I leave.”
“You will,” Laura answered. “I promise. Let's go.”
She escorted him out of the common room, trying to keep the mood light. But down the hall was where the Jurors' room was, and she would kill to be a fly on the wall.
Desmond and Mariah were sitting in the waiting room, absolutely silent. They had nothing to say to each other because they had discussed this situation numerous times before. To Desmond, it felt like a numbers game. One day, they were bound to sit here.
The question was whether or not they were going to get out.
The door whooshed open, and Thomas came to the door. He did not look happy, his face blank and his eyes clouded.
“Maestro Desmond,” he said. “Maestro Mariah.”
“EXCUSE ME!”
Despite the calm demeanor of the witches, everyone jumped at Eliza's roar. She came pushing through the doors, her head held high and her eyes ablaze. Nathaniel was behind her, looking more like something she had dragged along than her escort witch.
“Your highness?” Thomas asked, confused. “Did you not get the message that we have delayed your–”
“Delayed my case?” Eliza said, her eyes on fire. “Do you know who I am?”
“The Queen of Jeffro?” Thomas answered. “Nathaniel, what is the meaning of this?”
“Queen Eliza is evoking the law of deliverance,” Nathaniel answered.
Thomas sucked in a breath. “How did you hear about that?”
“Never mind how he heard about it,” Eliza snapped. “You have a duty to hear my case first, and you know it.”
Thomas paused, calculating his response. He knew he had a losing case at the moment, but he had to choose how to play it.
“NOW!” Eliza roared, and he hesitated no longer.
“You are right, your highness,” he said at last. “Please, come in. We can make time for you now. Desmond and Mariah, we will see you directly after.”
“Of course,” Desmond answered. Eliza huffed as if she had been morally wronged, and then swept into the room. The doors closed behind them, and they found themselves in silence once more.
Desmond sank forward, relief washing over him. Another few moments could buy them freedom, if they used it right.
“How did you hear about the law of deliverance?” he asked Nathaniel. “I don't ever doubt your intelligence, Nathaniel, but ancient systems are not something even I have thought of since my school days.”
“Apparently, Christa has,” Nathaniel said. “She was the one who said we should try it. Eliza is going to draw out this case for a few hours, so we have some time.”
“Not to be a pessimist,” Mariah spoke up quietly for the first time in an hour, “but I don't see what time is going to buy us. You know they have undeniable evidence, Desmond. Especially if they now have more time to look back in the files.”
“Don't give up,” Desmond answered, putting a hand on her leg. “Don't. We'll figure this out, I promise.”
Mariah said nothing, and Desmond realized she had a tear rolling down her face.
“Mariah,” he said, his own heart breaking a little. Nathaniel stepped back as he took her hand. It was risky to exhibit such closeness, but Nathaniel figured it didn't make much of a difference right now. They wouldn't be able to deny the physical connection between them. It was whether they could justify it that would make all the difference. “I promised to take care of you, did I not? I was thirty years old, and I swore the rest of my life to you, didn't I?”
Nathaniel reacted in shock, but stayed silent. Pledging yourself to someone was the ultimate in commitment – intertwining magic and connecting their life forces. It was almost impossible to live without your pledge once it happened. It wasn't a romantic connection, but it was a lifelong one.
“Yes,” Mariah answered.
“Nothing has changed,” Desmond assured her. “Nothing.”
Nathaniel saw such a deep connection between them that he felt guilty being in the room. Desmond's strength seemed to help Mariah stand, and he let her take his arm. She was trying to be strong, but she gripped his arm tightly.
Nathaniel's eyes suddenly blazed. “Sienna's awake,” he said to Desmond, who nodded.
“I know. I felt it,” he said. For the first time in his life, Nathaniel saw his Maestro unsure of how to proceed.
“Let's go to her,” Nathaniel suggested. “No one can fault you for going to your sick Tiro.”
“Of course,” Desmond answered, leading Mariah into the hallway.
It was there that Laura caught them, a book in her hand. “I have to talk to you,” she said. “Both of you. Alone.”
“About what?” Nathaniel answered, confused. “We're–”
“This is important,” Laura said. “And it's urgent.”
“Anything you have to say, you can say in front of Mariah,” Desmond said.
Laura took a deep breath. “It's about Sienna,” she said. “Brace yourselves. I think your Tiro is more talented than you think.”
“That we know,” Nathaniel answered. “What do you know?”
“That she can open a door between the living and the dead,” Laura said. “But not forever.”
Chapter 19
“This can't be happening,” Nathaniel said as Laura explained everything. They were sitting around Sienna's bed, listening in shock. “No, no. She can't be dead.”
“All I'm saying is that the Queen of Jeffro got here ridiculously fast,” Laura said. “Either she left before the explosion or–”
“Don't say it,” Nathaniel warned Laura. “Don't say it. Is this because you know I'm involved with her? This is your revenge?”
Silence fell over the room as Laura gasped in shock. “What?” she asked. “No. Why would you think that?”
“I think that because you didn't bring this to me until now,” Nathaniel said.
“I just found it,” Laura protested. “Christa, didn't we just find out together?”
“We found a few things,” Christa admitted. “Nathaniel, I don't think this is the time to be pointing fingers. It's the time to get to the bottom of things. Especially if you have limited time.”
“I would bring her back,” Sienna suddenly spoke up, her eyes darting around the room. Devon was on one side of her, and no one was stopping him from holding her hand. There were so many emotions flying around the room that no one knew which to deal with first. “I would.”
“It would kill you,” Nathaniel lowered his voice. “Especially now.”
“How long?” Dorian suddenly broke into the conversation. He had been sitting silently throughout the conversation, but now, he drew everyone's attention to him. “How long before the last one died again?”
“A few days – a week, I think,” Laura said, “according to the report.”
“So, in short, any moment now,” Dorian said with a soft smile.
“No,” Desmond said. “I refuse to believe that!”
Nathaniel had never seen Desmond so distraught. He didn't blame him; they were all between a rock and a hard place. But Desmond was always known for keeping a calm demeanor, no matter the situation.
“Desmond, what do we do?” Nathaniel asked him. He was looking for direction; for instruction; anything.
Sienna coughed, and Nathaniel reached out to her sympathetically. He knew that she needed to be back in the med bay, but that wasn't an option right now.
They were running out of options.
“I don't know,” Desmond admitted, his voice broken.
“Desmond,” Dorian said softly, “send Nathaniel to find evidence of when Eliza's ship left. He needs to find peace with that to know whether the clock was ticking. Ask for an outside doctor to just stabilize your Tiro for the time being. And then,” he took a deep breath, “we can focus on the matters of the heart.”
“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?”
Nathaniel remembered Desmond saying similar words when they were on Jeffro during Sienna's first mission. In that moment, Nathaniel had lost sight of his path, blinded by his love for Eliza. Desmond's words had brought him back to the correct way of thinking.
Now, Dorian was doing the same thing for his former Tiro.
“Yes,” Desmond said. “Yes, that is the right course of action.”
“I can help you,” Christa said. “No one knows a ship's navigation system better than me. Even if they've deleted the navigational data, I can probably find out what happened.”
“Thank you,” Nathaniel said, turning to Sienna. “Little one, you're all right?”
“Yes,” she said. “But I…I'm sorry, Nathaniel.”
“Don't be sorry,” he said softly. “If Eliza is dead, and you've brought her back to me by opening the door, then I am forever grateful for the extra time.”
“But the door I opened also brought Ladd back,” Sienna said. “So, it's my fault.”
“No,” Nathaniel assured her. “You have done nothing but good, do you understand?”
She nodded, but she looked unsure. Nathaniel couldn't stay, though, his heart pounding as he went with Christa. He had to know whether Eliza was part of the ripple effect that would eventually wear off, or whether she had truly escaped in record time.
“We have to go, too,” Laura said to Devon. “Come on.”
“Can I have a moment?” Devon pleaded. “Please?”
None of the adults in the room could deny them the chance to potentially say goodbye, and so they allowed it. Devon waited until they were alone before he kissed her on the cheek.
“I will be back,” he promised her. “And I will see you again. This is going to be our life, all right? Seeing each other in between quests, trying to snag twin quests or support missions, sneaking in reasons. This is what we are going to do until we can't anymore.”
“And then what are we going to do?” Sienna asked, wide-eyed at Devon's bravery and his confidence.
“When we can't take quests anymore?” Devon grinned. “We're going to run away.”
She gasped. “We can't.”
“We can,” he said to her, trying to keep the smile in his eyes. “But Sienna, we don't have to make that choice right now. All we have to do is promise that we're going to see each other again. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “Although, I don't know what is going to happen with any of us.”
“We're just Tiros,” Devon said. “Let the Maestros worry about where we are going. We will just try to find a way to see each other once we are there, all right?”
She smiled, accepting a kiss on the head.
“I'll see you soon, all right?” he said, looking deep into her eyes.
“Yes,” she said, wanting him to stay forever. But Devon's strength and his confidence gave her no doubt that they would see each other again. She wasn't even afraid of the potential for death now that she knew how to beat it. She just had to find her way to see him again. When it was laid out like that, she knew it would be easy.
“Good,” he said, jumping off the bed. “Keep smiling.”
***
Outside in the hallway, Desmond leaned against the wall with a long sigh. Mariah had settled into a chair, her head against the wall, her eyes closed. Dorian stood guard, as if he would prevent anyone from so much as blinking in their direction.
“Thank you,” Desmond said. “For back there. I didn't know what I was going to do.”
“Isn't that what Maestros are for?” Dorian answered.
“It seemed you returned just in the nick of time,” Desmond said. “As if the universe knew what door to open.”
“Or your Tiro is more powerful than you think,” Dorian said.
Desmond glanced at him. “What do you mean?”
“Sienna is a very special Tiro,” Dorian said. “She has been damned by the acridid gene, yes. But without it, what would she be?”
“Without it stopping her?” Desmond shook his head. “I have no idea. I can't even begin to imagine the power she would have if it wasn't fractured.”
“She may be one of a kind,” Dorian said. “The kind of witch whose name we never forget. But every good witch needs a good Maestro. Or two.”
“You think she knew that I needed you?” Desmond asked. “That I was starting to have no idea what I was doing? And bringing the Ronan back was just baggage?”
“Anything is possible,” Dorian said. “But you'll have to be around to find out. There is no one more equipped in this entire school than you to be her Maestro. Your experience alone is unprecedented.”
“Don't forget that my success rates from start to finish with Tiros so far is one,” Desmond said. “Christa was a year, and Reynolds…”
“You've dealt with unprecedented power before in Reynolds and in Tiros with special needs, like Nathaniel and Christa,” Dorian said. “Most Maestros have boring Tiro after boring one. Where your energy lacks, Nathaniel picks up. Even you, Mariah, have been working with Tiros with disabilities for years from what I understand. They fly you around the galaxy for that specific purpose; you're an expert. You all could be the difference between her being consumed by her magic or changing the course of the world as you know it.”
“As I know it,” Desmond picked up on his words. “But not you.”
Dorian smiled softly. “Not me,” he said. “I have felt the pull of magic for a day or two now. Laura is right. I think all of us effected by this ripple will return shortly. You'll have to be the strong one, the protector. As I knew that you would always be.”
“That's our case,” Mariah suddenly spoke up. “There.”
“What are you talking about?” Desmond asked. “My dear?”
“We serve Nature first, and Sienna's case is special,” Mariah said. “If we tell the Jurors what we think she can do, they will not take you away from her, at least.”
“And you neither,” Desmond said. “But is that for our selfish reasons? Or because it's the best thing?”
“Desmond,” Dorian said softly, “look inside yourself. Look at what Christa suffered. Losing a Maestro is terrible. If Sienna is taken away from two…”
“Yes,” Desmond answered. “You're right. I know you are. Just sometimes, I feel like I am drowning with her, with all of this.”
“You think I didn't feel the same?” Dorian answered. “You were so smart, Desmond, in so many ways. You made me feel like an idiot.”
Desmond laughed at that, shaking his head.
“We all feel like that,” Dorian said. “But it's our actions that make the difference, not the thoughts that keep us awake at night.”
Desmond smiled. “Thank Creator, you came back when you did,” he said.
“Thank Creator, she brought me back,” Dorian said as the door whooshed open. Devon stood there, looking a bit lost.
“My Maestro?” he asked.
“She went back to her room,” Desmond said, trying to lighten the mood. “You're off for quite a while, aren't you, Devon?”
“A few months,” Devon answered. “And I hope to take a few medic courses while I'm there.”
“Medic courses?” Desmond said, surprised. “Online?”
“Yes,” Devon said, “so that when I come back, I'll be better prepared.”
He held Desmond's gaze, and the Maestro nodded. “That you will,” he said. “At least for one path in life. Good luck to you, Devon.”
“You too,” Devon answered, and headed off.
Desmond watched him go. “To be that age again,” he said to Mariah, who smiled.
“And give up all the memories that we've made?” she said. “Never.”
“Whatever happens, would you do it differently?” Desmond said. “If you were his age again?”
“Not a chance,” Mariah answered with a smile. “You?”
Desmond glanced between Dorian and Mariah, and then back again. “No,” he said. “I wouldn't.”
“That's how you know you've made the right choice in life,” Dorian said to him with a smile. “No matter what the consequences.”
Desmond felt comforted by that fact. Mariah moved to get up, and he reached to take her hand.
“But Maestro,” he said, suddenly, thinking of something else. But when he turned back to the spot where Dorian was, he wasn't there anymore.
Desmond felt a sudden rush of magic that he knew too well. It felt like death – like loss.
“He's gone, isn't he?” Mariah asked, squeezing his hand.
“Yes,” Desmond said, stunned.
“But he left us with a plan,” she said.
“Maybe she did know, somehow, that I needed him. That without his guidance, I'd be lost.” Desmond glanced toward the door where Sienna rested inside.
“Thank Creator for your choice of Tiros,” Mariah leaned on his shoulder. “Shall we go and save our Sienna any way we can?”
“Yes,” Desmond said. Despite Dorian's disappearance, he felt stronger than he had in a long time.
Chapter 20
Nathaniel felt like he couldn't breathe as Christa lay underneath the navigation panel, tinkering with it. Being a royal ship, there was security measure on top of security measure. They took the utmost care on Jeffro to protect Eliza, her whereabouts, and her plans. But luckily for Nathaniel, Christa wasn't bothered by any of this.
She simply calmly slid under the panel and started working with the internal computer.
“How's it going?” Nathaniel asked, trying to calm his heartbeat. If Eliza was only here because of a ripple effect, he wanted to spend every spare moment with her. And right now, she was potentially wasting those moments inside the Jurors' room on his suggestion.
“Have patience, Nathaniel,” Christa said. “These things take time.”
“Creator,” Nathaniel hung his head. His com-link beeped, and he hit it half-heartedly. “What?”
“Maestro Nathaniel?” he recognized the voice of the outside doctor they had called. They had used him once or twice before when they had brought back non-witch refugees from quests. “I've examined your Tiro. I'm just calling to give you a report.”
“Yes?” Nathaniel answered anxiously. “Is she okay? Do you need me to come there?”
“She's all right for now,” the doctor said. “And I can maintain her levels for a while. But she really should be in some sort of advanced med bay. How long do you think you will be?”
“Less than half an hour,” Nathaniel said. “Please, if you could just stay there a bit longer, that'd be great.”
“Of course, Maestro,” the doctor said. They had always gotten along, and he didn't mind staying longer. But his call put Nathaniel on edge.
“Thank you,” Nathaniel answered as he hung up. He tapped his fingers against the navigation panel, nearly driving Christa insane. She was tempted to magically bind him, but she realized he was quite nervous. She gritted her teeth, bypassing more security systems as she put every skill that she had ever learned to good use.
Finally, she slid out from under the panel, her tablet getting a readout.
“Where's Eliza's pilot?” she asked Nathaniel as she looked at the numbers that scrolled through.
“She didn't have one,” Nathaniel answered. “Which is common on Jeffro. The pilots tend to pre-program the ships and then send them off. It's one less person that could be a threat to the queen. The guards can fly, but they don't unless they need to.”
“Well, that explains that,” Christa said. Nathaniel felt like he was going to throw up.
“What? What does it explain?”
“How they made a twelve-hour trip in less than six,” she replied. He gripped the navigation panel. “And why they don't remember.”
“Why?” Nathaniel answered. He prayed to the Creator for an answer that didn't end with death.
“The pilot made a mistake in the navigation,” she said. “It got them here, but at double buoyant speed.”
“Double buoyant speed?” Nathaniel's eyes nearly popped out of his head. “That would knock anyone out.”
“He must have been in a rush to get them off planet,” Sienna said. “It slowed down just outside the planet's atmosphere. The speed would have knocked them out, and they would have come to just as they entered.”
“So…” Nathaniel asked, looking for a solid answer.
“The navigation was programmed just seconds before the bomb blew,” Christa said. “As far as I can tell, it's all explained. Eliza is not part of a ripple effect, according to her ship. She's really here.”
“Oh, Creator,” Nathaniel let out a huge sigh. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“No problem,” Christa answered. “But you owe me one.”
“I will literally give you anything that you want,” Nathaniel answered. “It doesn't matter how far I have to go to get you a rare candy or some stupid jacket. I will get you anything.”
“You could answer your com-link,” Christa said, annoyed by the buzzing he seemed to be ignoring.
“Right,” Nathaniel jumped back to reality, hitting the button. “Doctor?”
“Nathaniel,” he recognized Juror Thomas' voice. “You and your Tiro are summoned to the Juror's chamber immediately.”
Nathaniel reacted in shock. “My Tiro is in no shape to attend,” he said. “Is her presence necessary?”
Thomas paused. “No,” he said at last. “You'll just have to relay the information. When can you attend to us?”
“Immediately,” Nathaniel said, “I'll see you in a moment.”
Christa stood up. “I guess this it,” she said. “The final verdict.”
“I have a funny feeling,” Nathaniel said, “that things are going to go our way.”
“Good luck,” she said. “I'll put Eliza's ship back to together and then meet you in Sienna's room.”
“Thank you again,” he said, and headed out of the ship and toward the Jurors' chambers.
There were a lot of reasons to expect bad news; he knew that. But he had a feeling that they were about to get good news.
He was half right as he entered the Jurors' chambers. Eliza was standing off to the side, which surprised him. Mariah and Desmond stood side by side, and the Jurors looked solemn. Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at Eliza, but she said nothing.
What exactly was going on? What had Eliza done? She seemed serious, and she didn't even give him a nod like she normally did.
“Nathaniel,” Thomas said. “Please take a place beside your co-Maestro.”
Thomas sat down in the chair in front of them.
“Maestros Desmond and Mariah, we have reviewed the evidence presented against us by the healer, Tara. And we all have to admit, it's very compelling.”
Nathaniel tensed, glancing to Desmond, who remained stone-faced.
“But we have also reviewed your case,” he said. “That no matter what our decision, you have a Tiro who is a very special child. And if what you say is true, she is more special than anyone realizes. Examining a claim of resurrection and the ripple effect will take time. As will examining evidence that Tara claims have taken place for years.”
Nathaniel stood tall, hoping that the Jurors had a heart, if nothing else.
“And so, while we examine all this evidence, we have decided that you and your team are on suspension,” Thomas said. “The Queen of Jeffro has offered to house and feed you until we determine your fate, as a thank you for the favors the witches have done her planet. You are not under obligation to serve her or help rebuild her palace, but we will not stop you. However, nothing you do is on official witch business until your fate is decided. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” Desmond spoke for all of them. Nathaniel had a flashback to years ago, when he stood silent while the Jurors decided his fate with Sienna. He had no say then, and it made him angry. Now, however, he was grateful to be included. They wouldn't be separated – any of them. “We understand.”
“Mariah, your missions working with other disabled Tiros are also suspended, even in consultation,” Thomas said. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Mariah answered. “And I thank you for your understanding in these matters.”
“The Jurors cannot ignore the rarity of power Sienna has,” Thomas said. “Even if it is not sustained. You are dismissed until further notice.”
“Thank you,” Desmond said again, and they all swept out.
As soon as they were outside, Nathaniel grabbed Eliza's hand. Desmond made a noise, and Nathaniel shrugged.
“What? We're suspended, aren't we? It's the best time to do this. My love,” he smiled at Eliza, “thank you. You must have made an amazingly compelling case.”
“I just threated to pull Jeffro's business,” she answered with a smile. “It seemed to work. You will have to help rebuild the palace, by the way. You won't get away that easily. And protection from Ladd–”
“Ladd is gone,” Desmond said. “Or he will be shortly.”
“How do you know?” Eliza asked.
“Because Dorian is,” Desmond said sadly. “I will explain all of it to you. What we should do now is tell Sienna. Thank you for offering the medical services of Jeffro.”
“The witches may want to ban her,” Eliza said, “but she is from Jeffro; she is one of ours. We will take care of her.”
“We'll all be together,” Nathaniel said. “That is what matters.”
“Yes,” Eliza smiled at him, “we will be.”
“We should pack if we are to be gone for several months,” Desmond said.
“I don't think it will take that long,” Mariah said. “They will see the value in what we are doing and what we are teaching. And hopefully, our collective efforts will help more than Sienna. Hopefully, we can help witches like her for generations.”
“And she can help us.” Desmond dared to put an arm around her as they walked. “Someone should tell her, by the way.”
“She'll be thrilled,” Nathaniel said. “All she has asked for since that first mission is to go back to Jeffro.”
“Do you think it might be a little harder now?” Desmond asked. “Now that there is someone else in the picture for her?”
“Devon?” Nathaniel glanced at him. “I don't know. Do you think it's serious?”
“I think that each one of us has had to learn how to prioritize matters of the heart – learned to live with our hearts, and without them,” Desmond said. “Maybe if we can teach her nothing else, we can teach her that.”
“I think you can teach her much more than that,” Mariah said. “But the first thing you are going to need is to teach her is how to pack for several months without taking everything and the kitchen sink.”
“I've been on tours for months all the time,” Eliza said as they entered the residential building. “I'll do that.”
Nathaniel watched her go with a smile, standing beside Desmond. “Well,” he said, “despite how much things are about to change, I think this is a pretty good outcome.”
“Probably one of the better outcomes,” Desmond said with a quiet smile. “Are you ready for a new adventure?”
“I'm always ready for a new adventure,” Nathaniel said with a grin. So long as his family was by his side and a heart was beating in Eliza's chest, he could take on anything. He knew it wasn't going to be easy going forward, but it was going to be worth it. Whether they were on Jeffro, or whether they were in space, or here, he was ready for whatever life threw at him.
***THE END***