Book 3: The Lost Tiro

Chapter 1

“Make way! Make way for the queen of Jeffro!”

Sienna took a step back instinctively. She had heard that call so many times over the past eight months that it barely made an impact on her that day.

There had been a day, of course, when she dreamed about meeting Queen Eliza of Jeffro, imagining her beauty and the glory of the palace. As a small child on Jeffro, Sienna had little else to do; ill health plagued her every movement. The one thing that saved her, was that her body contained a level of magic that was off the charts. Having magic that was identified from a young age was many children's ticket out of poverty and into a life of luxury. Witches trained all their lives–devoted to the magic–to serve as the peacekeepers and overseers of the whole galaxy. They were expected to focus on nothing but the magic, being trained, and then training others. Their entire lives were paid for, sponsored by the galaxy, and they wanted for nothing.

Sienna had thought she would never be trained because of her health, which seemed to confuse everyone. As a witch, she was entitled to care, to school, but not to training. It had been her greatest dream to be a Tiro, a student of the magic. But it wasn't until she was almost eight that someone saw beyond her weak body and into her power. Her case was so complicated that she had two teachers–two Maestros–who had once been Maestro and Tiro themselves. Desmond and Nathaniel had radically different styles, and the first few years were rough as they clashed on everything. But now, five years later, they were quite settled into a routine.

At least, they had been until eight months ago, when they had been exiled to Jeffro after Desmond had been caught one time too many with the witch he had been in love with for forty years, Mariah. It had been more complicated than that, with the head witch healer finally getting revenge for the years of arguments that Desmond and Nathaniel had given her about Sienna's unique care.

She didn't blame Desmond for their exile, nor did she mind as much as she was supposed to. She was on Jeffro, where she could speak her first language, and she didn't have the rigorous schooling or quest schedule that she used to. Mariah was here in exile as well, and Nathaniel's long-term relationship with Eliza was barely kept under wraps. In a lot of ways, it was the best of both worlds.

She missed the young witch, Devon, she had gotten to know at school, but they kept in frequent touch. Her Maestros were experts on long distance relationships, and she had learned much.

She knew she wasn't supposed to speak about how happy she was, but she was. She beamed at Eliza as she went by. When Eliza's palace had been destroyed in an attack last year, they had relocated to a smaller, summer house in the south. It was still beautiful, Sienna thought as she bowed low. Despite the tragedy that had befallen Jeffro with the destruction of the palace, they were quite lucky.

Her mind jumped, and she looked up to see her older Maestro, Desmond, standing across the room. He waited until Eliza's procession went by and was exiting the room before he crossed the marble hallway in her direction. With two Maestros, she was in the unique position of working with them in shifts if she needed something. Often, she didn't see Desmond from dinner until morning, which was far longer than most Tiros went without seeing their sole Maestro.

“Good morning, little one,” he said. “I was looking for you.”

Sienna smiled, wondering if she was always going to have the nickname, despite being almost as tall as both of them these days. She was still razor thin, her bones jutting out, but the fact that she had grown at all from her youth was an unexpected miracle. It was only thanks to her Maestros' persistence in finding medication that would not make her gene defects worse that she was alive at all.

“I was awake,” she said, with a shrug, her accent still strong when she spoke Basic. The months on Jeffro had made her fall back a few steps in language, made worse by the fact that she could telepathically communicate with both of her Maestros. “I swam.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You went to the lake alone?”

She backpedaled. “I went…with other people.”

“With other people that know you?” he asked, and she shook her head. “Sienna, please do not go swimming alone, when no one knows what could happen.”

She blushed, looking at the floor. “But you were both asleep.”

“Mariah was up at dawn,” he said. “She is happy to go with you.”

The fact that Mariah had been blinded in a quest over ten years ago was not lost on either of them. She was very skilled at using her magic to see beyond normal sight, and Desmond felt it was safer for her to at least be accompanied by Mariah than to go alone, when his Tiro was prone to fainting or seizures. She knew this without a shadow of a doubt.

“I didn't…,” Sienna searched for the words. “I don't want to fight.”

“We aren't fighting, little one,” he said. “I came to fetch you because the Academy has uploaded a new module for you to work on, and it seems to have a quick deadline. I can help you if you'd like.”

“Suspension of services, but not school,” she answered. The truth was, none of them knew how long they would live in this limbo. The Jurors–their governing body–said it was until they had reviewed all the evidence of the case against Desmond and Mariah, which, given that they had been circling around each other for forty years, could be a while. Sienna knew that if they dug deeper, they could find evidence against Nathaniel and Eliza, too. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she lost both her Maestros. They were the reason she was alive at all. “You want to work on it now?”

“What else are we doing, Sienna?” he asked. It was meant to be a joke, but she felt the pang of sadness from him. They were stuck in limbo until the Jurors said it was all right. Or until they said it wasn't.

“Mmm,” she said, with a shrug as their boots tapped on the marble floor. It was so calm here; Eliza was in complete control. There had never been a queen like Eliza–so young and yet so powerful, born to sit on the throne. She twisted her wrist without thinking, opening the door that wasn't automatic, to protect the queen. Desmond raised an eyebrow at her, and she dropped her hand. “Sorry. Instinct.”

“For most, it is,” he said. “But until your magic is better controlled, it's best you don't.”

“But will it ever be better controlled?” she asked him, pausing. “Every time I do more than open a door, Desmond, I feel like I'm going to throw up. That's not control. That's not–”

“We just have to find a different way of doing things,” he assured her calmly. “And we will.”

“What kind of witch can't use magic?” she asked him.

“The new kind that you will create,” he said softly. “That will be your legacy. But for now, there's much more learning to do, all right?”

She wanted to argue, but she knew better.

“Go, start up your tablet and log in,” he said. “I will join you in a moment.”

“But–” she was confused by his sudden change of direction. His face remained calm, and when she tried to push into his mind, she found that she was blocked. She was incredibly skilled at reading minds; but Desmond was also incredibly skilled at keeping her out. He hadn't spent forty years with Mariah in order to let someone discover his inner most thoughts easily. “All right.”

“I'll be in shortly,” he assured her. Once he was satisfied that she was distracted, he turned down the hallway, quickening his pace. He approached the vast library–Mariah's favorite place. She usually settled into the library in the mornings to relax. Now, he felt her calling out to him, and it wasn't at ease.

“What is it?” he asked, as he passed through the doors. She was sitting on the couch, her tablet on her lap. Mariah's tablet was specially equipped to read her messages to her, which meant she had to be careful where she was when she played them. The library was currently empty, but she did a quick check with her magic as Desmond sat down.

“I just got a message from Sybil,” she said, mentioning her former Tiro and Nathaniel's best friend. Those had been some of the best days of Desmond's life, he thought. Their Tiros were the same age, from the same class, and had similar skills. Desmond and Mariah took many joint quests, raising the closest thing to a family they were allowed to have. “I think you should hear it.”

“What is it about?” Desmond asked, sitting down as he took the tablet from her. Despite her Maestro being in exile, Sybil regularly sent her messages, keeping in close contact. Currently, Sybil and her own Tiro, Kierry, were on a long-term quest in the Outer Rim, tracking down wanted fugitives from the galaxy. They were excellent at it and had a high success rate. The only downside was that Desmond was blatantly reminded of the things Sienna would never do. “The most recent message?”

“She went undercover,” Mariah said, softly. “I know she isn't supposed to tell me, but she thought I should know…to tell you.”

Desmond pulled up the message, turning off the audio feature so he could scan it privately.

Pretending to be a witch who uses their magic for Acheronian reasons is not as hard as you think. It's actually quite fun. That could be because Kierry and I are not the slightest bit tempted at all; it's so obviously wrong to us. But it means we run into people that we used to know–witches who used to walk our halls. We haven't met him yet, but you should know that the witch on a high-up seat, running this operation, is almost certainly Reynolds. We are in deep so that he won't suspect us, and we will use Desmond's name to speak of reasons for turning. He is alive, he is thriving, and he is leading hits of witches. I can link him to at least four in the last three years.

Desmond stopped reading there, his eyes blurring. He said nothing, but Mariah sensed his distress, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Reynolds–his first Tiro. The one who was supposed to be his pride and joy, making his career. Instead, just at the brink of becoming a Maestro himself, Reynolds chose the Acheronian side of magic–a side that was forbidden–and abandoned everything Desmond had taught him. The pain of his desertion had almost ruined Desmond for good, and he never forgot Reynolds. To hear that he was doing this, though, opened the wound all over again.

“You should get Sybil out of there,” he finally managed. “You don't know what Reynolds is capable of. He–”

“Sybil can take care of herself. This is her area of expertise,” Mariah said. “It's not Sybil I'm worried about right now.”

Desmond bit his lip, trying to control his emotions. “I've always known he was alive,” he said. “But aside from that, I tried not to know; tried not to think.”

“If she finds him, you know what she'll have to do,” Mariah said softly.

“She'll have to kill him,” Desmond's voice was emotionless. “I know.” He put the tablet back in Mariah's lap, standing up. “She won't find him, though. He's too quick; too smart. But if she does….”

“I won't tell you,” Mariah said, and he shrugged.

“I’ll know,” he replied. “When a Maestro loses a Tiro, they always know.”

Chapter 2

“Mmm,” Nathaniel cuddled into Eliza in the late morning sun. Ten a.m. was usually the time when they could steal a moment together, sinking onto the bed. Some mornings it was sensual; some it was simply sweet as they held each other tight. Eight months together was a heaven they never thought they would have. And although Nathaniel's mind was still conflicted with the limbo they lived in; it was easy to forget his career when Eliza's soft body was in his arms. “Ow, your jewelry,” he said, as she rolled over.

“What do you expect? I just came from a balcony appearance,” she said, as she lay her head on his shoulder. “You could join me sometime.”

“On the balcony like a prince?” he asked her. “Maybe one day, Eliza, but not now.”

“Not like a prince. A bodyguard, a witch, an honored guest, whatever you want,” she said. “Everyone is used to you being my shadow; no one will be offended by it. I saw your Tiro this morning on my way out. She looked like she'd been in the lake.”

“Creator damn it,” Nathaniel answered. “She knows she's not supposed to go alone.”

“Nathaniel, she's thirteen,” Eliza pointed out. “If she didn't have an act of rebellion here and there, it would be concerning.”

“I suppose you're right,” he said, staring at the ceiling “As complicated as our situation is right now, I am glad that we are not at the Academy.”

“Why?” Eliza asked, confused. Nathaniel shook his head.

“There was…a boy that, had she been allowed to continue with, I don't know what we'd do. The behavior she exhibited with him was not like her.”

“Like Maestro, like Tiro,” Eliza commented. He glanced over to her.

“I am in love with you, Eliza, you know that. And I always will be. But it doesn't mean that I think breaking my vows is right. Our hearts are certainty victims of circumstance.”

“And what if, for her, he's her one and only? Like Desmond and Mariah?”

“She's thirteen,” Nathaniel answered. “I doubt it. But if it is, I'll be the first to apologize to her.”

“I know this is a prickly subject,” Eliza said, quietly. “But what if there's another life for her? Beyond this magic that hurts her so much?”

Nathaniel rolled over, his eyes focusing on the wall. “I'd rather not talk about that option,” he replied. “I'm not giving up on her.”

“I know you won't,” Eliza rolled to embrace him. “And I will never give up on you.”

She kissed the back of his neck, and he relaxed a bit. Sometimes, when life got complicated, he wished that he could stay this way forever. Eliza wasn't his only lover, but she was his heart. He couldn't imagine a life where they would have been free enough to be each other's only. But it would be nice one day.

Eventually, he hauled himself up. “I think I'm going to go train for a while,” he said. “If the Jurors ever get around to calling us back, I want to be in top shape. I was a warrior, after all.”

“You're still a warrior,” she answered with a smile. “I should get up as well. They expect a queen to work around here.”

“The gall,” he said with a smile as he moved off the bed. “I'll see you soon, my love.”

“Are you going to sleep here tonight?” she asked, and he considered it.

“Possibly. Sienna has been well these past few days, so I see no need to be alert. Perhaps we could have a fun night?”

She knew what that meant, and let him kiss her again before he headed out, declining to answer. Nathaniel's vows were a sore spot that they rarely talked about. She respected them, and yet, they annoyed her. But then again, she was the one who refused to marry him, not quite the other way around.

Nathaniel usually liked the gardens of the summer palace for training. He could be surrounded by nature, drawing his strength from the many flowers and trees, and exist only inside of his own head. His skills as a warrior were taught at the Academy on a daily basis, and in his Tiro days, he was spoken about as the best of his kind.

He was sure he'd pick it up again quickly if they ever had a chance to do battle again. Currently, he was just trying to keep his accuracy sharp, and his strength up.

He wasn't sure how long he'd be at it, his mind locked into nature, when Sienna interrupted him.

‘Arrow.’

He opened his eyes, catching his breath and immediately retracting his magic so that he didn't hurt her.

“More of a check,” he said, referring to the spell he had just created. She was standing off to the side, watching with awe. Her health prevented them from taking warrior missions, and so she rarely saw her Maestros in the positions they were well known for. Sienna dreamed of being a warrior herself, although she knew it was only a pipe dream. She settled for dreaming most days. “Because of the curve of the spell, to throw your opponent off guard. A bit more difficult in accuracy, but well worth it for the attack.” He bent over, putting his hands on his knees and grinning. “Whew. Out of shape.”

Her eyes drifted to where he had shot his magic, and then back to his hands.

“Show me?” she asked, holding out her hands. He straightened up.

“Shouldn't you be with Desmond?”

“He said he was going to help me with homework,” she said. “But he never came back.”

“That's not like Desmond,” Nathaniel answered. “Something must have come up.”

“He is safe,” Sienna shrugged. “Teach me? Just that one?”

Nathaniel paused, trying to consider the consequences. Under normal circumstances, this would be a non-issue. A Maestro teaching a Tiro a complicated spell would be an almost daily occurrence. With Sienna, it was a tangled web of complications.

“Little one, it's difficult,” he said. “And you know that you'll feel ill after.”

“So? What have we to do tomorrow?” She asked. “Or the next day? Or the next? I can recover.”

“Or the Jurors call us tonight,” he said, and she shook her head.

“They won't,” she said. “Please. I can't be a witch with no magic.”

He sighed, trying to think how he could modify the spell. When he was her age, he had already learned it and was using it in a basic form in battle.

“Come here,” he said at last, adjusting his position back to a starter pose. “I don't want you to fire until I tell you, all right? Just go through the motions.”

She nodded, tensing her body and copying his movements. Her magic danced on her fingers as it always did when they were in an abundance of nature. Fruit was her main set off, and Eliza's orchards were well away, but she was so powerful that he could tell she was drawing strength from them, even when she didn't mean to.

“Are you ready?” he asked. “One, here, like this. Two, over. Three up. And four, left. Got it?”

She nodded, intimating his movements.

“Good,” he said. “Do it again. One...,”

They went through it a few times, and he had to admit, she was a natural. She flowed with the movements as if they were part of breathing. Her rhythm was correct, and her eyes were focused.

“Now?” she asked, and he in took a sharp breath. “Please?”

“Once,” he said. “Just once. That's it.”

She nodded, focusing forward. He took a step behind her and watched her positioning.

“Your opponent is the grey rock,” he said. “The one with two lumps. Do you see it?”

“Yes,” she narrowed her focus, readjusting her position to get her aim. She lowered her shoulders and then leaned forward a bit.

She then moved so fast he almost missed it. Her wrists flicked up and then down. Her palms opened and closed, and then a blast of magic came out so powerful that he was actually startled by it.

The rock instantly blew to pieces, flying everywhere.

He moved forward, putting his hands on either side of her head, and holding out a shield so that neither of them got hit in the face. The pieces hit his shield and shattered to the ground, making holes in the grass.

Both of them stood in shock for a silent moment. When he deemed it safe, he dropped the magic.

“Are you all right?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Oops?”

“I wouldn't say ‘oops,’” he answered. “No opponent would have stood against that. Just, sometimes, you don't need to use so much.”

“But for battle…,” she searched for the right word. “To kill.”

“Yes, that would have been a killing blow,” he said. “But we don't always need to kill, Sienna.”

She looked down at her hands, as if amazed at what they could do. “Less is harder,” she said, at last.

“I know,” he replied. “That's a lesson in control.”

“I would be taking those now if I was back in school.”

“Don't worry about it,” he tried to distract her. “Are you sure that you feel all right?”

“Yes,” her eyes were bright. “That was amazing. Again?”

“Fat chance,” he said, with a grin. “Eliza will literally kill us if we destroy something else in her garden. I'm already going to have to explain this to her, and she won't be happy. Luckily, she likes you, so it should be all right.”

“Can we not put it back together?” she asked, and he winced.

“That's even harder.”

She grinned “You can do it.”

“Argh,” he said, weighing the effort of the magic against Eliza's rage. He decided that the former was the easier choice, and turned back to the site of the stone. “Stand back,” he said. “I haven't done this in years, and I don't know if it will go wrong.”

“I can help?”

“You can help by going to stand by the tree,” he said, pointing to the left side. “Go. Now.”

Waiting until her back was against it, he pointed his hands forward. Fixing things, in his opinion, was a lot harder than blowing them up. He had to focus on precision, on technique more than power. Nathaniel had always been good at power and strength, but also at confidence. He knew he was a warrior, and no one could take that from him.

The pieces of the rock slowly fit back together, bit by bit. It wasn't easy, for she had done a number on it, but it was a good exercise. He waved a hand when he was done, sealing them in, and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Still got it,” he said to Sienna with a smile. She grinned, taking a few steps forward to look at the rock.

“It looks new,” she said.

“Don't act so surprised,” he replied. “Your Maestro can still do a thing or two.”

She ran her hand over the smooth stone, looking for any telltale cracks. Nathaniel's magic, though, was flawless.

“Wow,” she said softly. He put a hand on her shoulder, feeling her distress.

“One day, little one, you'll be able to do that. I promise.”

“Maybe,” she said softly. “And if not, at least I can say that my Maestro could.”

Chapter 3

“You're distracted,” Nathaniel said to Desmond that night at dinner. Far from the messy and noisy cafeteria, all the witches were invited to dine at the royal table with Eliza. There were always a large number of people at the palace; every night seemed to be a feast with visiting officials and invited guests. Nathaniel always sat on Eliza's right hand side, usually with Desmond beside him, and Mariah opposite him. Sienna was beside Desmond, blocked by his elbow from Nathaniel's view.

“Just news from the Academy,” Desmond said, focused on his plate. “It's always jarring. A whole world exists without us being there.”

“I understand that,” Nathaniel answered. “Anything in particular?” He reached for the wine jug as he said so. Witches weren't expressively forbidden from drinking, but it was considered a distraction, and so they usually abstained. Nathaniel partook more often than his Maestro, although he was usually responsible about it.

Desmond glanced to Nathaniel, and then decided there was no point in keeping secrets. “Sybil is undercover,” he said, “and on the tail of Reynolds, she thinks.”

Nathaniel froze “Reynolds? Your Reynolds?”

“Yes,” Desmond answered. “Mariah doesn't think she is in any danger, but he's high up in his Acheronian order. She is hunting a few that are lower in the ranks.”

“I don't think Sybil is in any danger,” Nathaniel answered. “But I thought Reynolds…wow,” he put the wine jug back, and Desmond raised an eyebrow.

“You know you didn't pour anything, right?”

“I think it's better if I'm alert,” he said.

“You think I'm going to partake irresponsibly instead? Nathaniel, really.” Desmond snorted.

“I don't know,” Nathaniel answered. “This is the first time we've heard that Reynolds is alive in years. It must be distressing.”

“It is,” Desmond answered. “But not as distressing as it would be to learn that he is dead. He was still my Tiro, and we still had many years together. It's odd to say, but I am glad he is alive. For now, anyway.”

“I didn't think of it that way,” Nathaniel answered. “You don't want to see him, or anything?”

“No,” Desmond answered. “I am content to know we still exist in the same realm, despite the choice he's made.”

“Well, in that case,” Nathaniel reached for the wine jug again. “If you're going to be plagued by thoughts, you could–”

“I'm not taking the night shift,” Desmond said quickly. “I know I was unavailable for part of today, but it's not an excuse for more than a glass or two.”

“Spoilsport,” Nathaniel said, having no intention of getting tipsy. It was an odd sort of existence, but he was enjoying it. He had always been taught to live in the moment, for witches didn't know about tomorrow. This seemed to be the ultimate proof of that lesson.

“Sienna,” Mariah's voice suddenly spoke up in concern. Having lost her sight, her other senses were incredibly heightened. In this case, she heard the clatter of the utensils that were previously in the young Tiro's hands.

Both of her Maestros whipped their heads around, bolting from their seats. Eliza stopped her conversation, and the table went silent. Sienna's hands were shaking, and her eyes were downcast. Desmond was closer, and he grabbed her, holding her back in case she slumped over. Nathaniel's entire world narrowed to his young Tiro as he got to her other side, focusing on her vitals.

“Maestro,” he said, as Desmond picked up on his thoughts.

“Come on, Sienna,” Desmond said, recognizing the signs of an impending fainting spell. “Let's go. Come on.”

She was getting no heavier with age, and he bent his knees, swooping her up.

“Is she going to seize?” Nathaniel asked, his voice dripping with concern. He always felt so useless when these things happened, because he could do nothing. Natural medications made her worse, as did pushing healing magic. Heavy chemical medication was helpful, but damaging to her system. They played a careful game of making sure she was as comfortable as possible without more damage.

“Yes,” Desmond seemed hardly phased by this phenomenon, which made Eliza sad as she silently watched. No child should have to go through this, whether she was rigorously training to be a witch or not.

“McDonnell, Juan!” She snapped to her personal guards “Don't just stand there for god’s sakes. Get the door.”

“Sienna, I need you to stay with me,” Desmond said, trying to reach into her mind. Once or twice, he could bring her back from this hell, but it was infrequent. “With me, little one. Here.”

With the doors held open, they managed to get half way down to the grand hallway before Desmond got a hand to the face.

“Oomph,” he managed, realizing they were out of time. Nathaniel jumped forward in time to help him sink to his knees.

“What can we do?” Juan, the Jeffro Captain of the Guards asked. “How can we help?”

Nathaniel's Jeffro was getting stronger every day, but he was a bit distracted.

“Nothing,” he said, not looking up. “It's fine. On her side, Desmond.”

“Why is this happening?” Desmond was more bothered by the reason of the event than the actual occurrence. She hadn't seized in months, and it seemed she was actually getting stronger on Jeffro.

Nathaniel bit his lip as he kept a hand on her shoulder.

“This may be my fault,” he said. “We were working out in the garden today, and she saw me doing a check spell. I taught it to her.”

Desmond's eyes flickered up. “That's a bit advanced, don't you think?”

“The spell is not that advanced. If she was in proper training at school, it would not be considered advanced,” Nathaniel answered. “The amount of magic that she used was, though. I'm not going to tell Eliza about the commemorative rock in her garden.”

Desmond sighed, holding Sienna's hands so she didn't smack either of them or herself. He felt blood drip from his nose and wondered briefly if she had broken it. It didn't matter, really. That would heal. His only concern was for her.

“She said something to me today,” Desmond said. “That she can't be a witch if she can't do magic.”

Nathaniel shook his head.

“She can. She said that to me, too. She just needs to learn differently than the others.”

“Nathaniel,” Desmond said, as he pushed down slightly. This one was going on for quite a while. “This is what happens when she does magic.”

They locked gazes, unspoken horrors passing in between them. Nathaniel was stubborn, and he refused to believe this was the only option.

“We knew this when we accepted this position,” Nathaniel said. “In a lot of ways, this is going better than we thought.”

“We knew that it was going to be difficult,” Desmond agreed.

Eventually, she lay still, and Desmond let out a long breath, sitting back on his haunches.

“You're bleeding,” Nathaniel said, and he wiped his nose.

“I know. It's fine. Probably don't teach her any new spells for a while.”

“Aye,” Nathaniel answered. “Does she know? About Reynolds?”

“If she hasn't already read my mind, I'm sure she will,” Desmond answered. “You can tell her tonight, if you want. Oops,” he backed up as his young Tiro tensed. “This is going to be messy.”

“I'm an idiot,” Nathaniel said, as she gagged.

“No, you're her Maestro,” Desmond tried to assure him. “You were just tasked with a heavier burden than most.”

They sat in the hallway for nearly half an hour, the guards keeping the doors to the grand hall closed to funnel the dinner guests out the other side.

‘Do you need help?’ Mariah reached out to Desmond as they sat.

‘No,’ he thought back. ‘Just comfort.’

‘I'm here when you need me,’ her thoughts wrapped around his mind like a hug, and he smiled slightly.

“Maestro,” Sienna's voice sounded half broken, leaning against Nathaniel. Both of them looked down, but she was reaching out for Desmond with her magic.

“Stop,” he grabbed her hand. “That's what got you into this situation to start with. Don't.”

In answer, she sent him an image of Reynolds, which made Desmond jump. Nathaniel's head swiveled to Desmond, watching his reaction.

“Yes, that is Reynolds,” Desmond said. “I don't often think of him. You are clever to pick that out.”

“You want…to see him?” Sienna asked, and Desmond sighed.

“Yes,” he said, not willing to lie to his Tiro. “But that is complicated.”

“Oh,” Sienna said, softly. “No.”

“We can discuss it in the morning, little one,” Desmond said. “When you are stronger. For now, are you ready to get up?”

“I…” she seemed uncertain, and Nathaniel shifted.

“I'll carry you,” he said. “Ready? One-two-three, oomph,” he stood up quickly. Desmond gave him a smile of thanks as he stood up as well.

Nathaniel was completely devoted to Sienna; he would never give up on her or her cause. It was such a switch from the first few months when Nathaniel could not get far enough from her. He had insisted that he didn't want this assignment, didn't want anything but a warrior. Desmond had just started to wonder whether taking Sienna on for both of them was the wrong choice when Nathaniel had started to see her potential, her strength. But sometimes, especially when he already felt low, Desmond wondered whether they would spend their whole life between a rock and a hard place–a Tiro so powerful that no one could measure up against her, except that she couldn't use her magic.

But then, what did it matter if they were expelled from the order? If they couldn't be practicing witches because he and Mariah weren't careful, what had he destroyed?

‘Stay close,’ Nathaniel interrupted his pitying thoughts, already halfway down the hallway. ‘This doesn't feel safe yet.’

‘I'll be awake for many hours yet,’ Desmond assured him as he straightened his clothes and wiped his nose once more. He didn't particularly want to, but he went back through the doors of the grand hall where dinner was just finishing.

“Maestro Desmond?” Eliza asked, and he dipped his head.

“Under control, your highness,” he said, as he took his seat across from Mariah. “My apologies.”

“Apologize for nothing,” Eliza said. “I only wish for her health.”

“Don't we all,” Desmond said, and Mariah subtly extended her hand across the table. He squeezed it, opening his mind to her thoughts. ‘It'll be a long night.’

‘And I will be at your side,’ she assured him silently. ‘Never forget that. You are not alone in this.’

He smiled, although he knew she couldn't see it, and took a drink to calm his shaking nerves. He never showed Nathaniel how much these episodes rocked him. Every time her body threatened to leave with her soul, he flashed back to Reynolds. It was an emotional departure, but it left a scar on him like no other. He couldn't take another one leaving him; he'd rather leave himself.

‘Stop,’ Mariah shot at him, and he realized she could hear his mind. ‘She'll be fine tonight.’

‘Tonight,’ Desmond said. ‘But what about tomorrow?’

‘Don't worry about tomorrow,’ she assured him. ‘We only have today.’ She often said that, but it felt heavier tonight. His eyes flickered up to her as she delicately cut into her food.

‘One day that will be true,’ he thought.

‘But it is not today,’ she assured him, and he smiled at her forcefulness. He was so grateful that she was with him, and he would not give her up for anything, not even to end this limbo.

Chapter 4

“Maestro?” Sienna asked Nathaniel, later that night. In the few hours following an event, he didn't like to leave her alone. He had gotten used to sleeping through the night these past few months, but his mind readily remembered the times he used to stay up all night by her side and sleep for a few hours in the late afternoon. He wasn't eager to repeat that time, but he was already settled into a position on her chair that suggested he might have to.

“Hmm?” he asked, looking up from his tablet.

“What really happened with Reynolds? Do you know?”

He put aside the tablet, shifting his legs. “I do,” he said. “But it's not something Desmond wants out in the open.”

“I am his Tiro,” she pointed out. “As were you, you know.”

He sighed, trying to figure out the right words to not alarm her. “Reynolds chose to use Acheronian magic.”

“Before the tests?”

“Yes,” Nathaniel answered.

“How long before the tests?”

“Longer than Desmond likes to admit,” Nathaniel said. “He hung onto Reynolds long after the first signs, hoping that he could convince him otherwise. They went off-world for long stretches, and Desmond hoped he could show Reynolds another way. He scheduled the tests without Reynolds's approval, and shortly before, Reynolds made his choice for good and deserted him.”

“How?” Sienna asked, aghast. “How could anyone do that?” She knew that some Tiros did do this, and more still just chose another path. The life of a witch was not an easy one. But it seemed impossible to her, given how strong the bond between Maestro and Tiro was. “I could never do that.”

“I don't know,” Nathaniel answered, truthfully. “But I do know it left a deep scar on Desmond. Had he not found Christa, who was as broken as he was then–I don't know what would have happened. The things I see in his mind from that time, they startle me.”

“What if a witch can't take the tests?” she asked, and Nathaniel knew right away what she was talking about.

“Sienna,” he said quickly, leaning forward, “you will take the tests.”

“What if I can't? Will you just–”

“No,” he was fast on this, “we will not just leave you. We will never leave you, do you understand? You are our Tiro, and our duty is to train you until you are ready for the tests. If that's next month, next year, or twenty years down the line, then so be it.”

“I can't do magic, Nathaniel,” tears sprung to her eyes, and he grabbed her hands.

“You can do magic. And you've been so much better, than when we first started. You just learn differently than everyone else, and that's fine. We'll continue to find different ways. I'm not going to leave you, do you understand?” He met her gaze, wanting desperately to force comforting thoughts into her. But after the incident in the hallway, he didn't want any additional magic to touch her for a while. “Okay?”

She nodded, her tear-streaked face pale, and he was reminded that she was still that lost child they saw on the first day.

“Okay,” he gave her hands a squeeze and moved back. “Can you drink the water, please?”

“No,” she said, even as she reached for it. Getting her to eat and drink was a problem that had reared its head in her early days, and he had never quite figured out how to fight it. “Are you going to Eliza?”

“Not tonight,” he said, although he had plans. All of that seemed to change when Sienna was involved, as the rest of his life had. “Besides, she has a six a.m. meeting, and I'm never a fan of getting up early.”

She smiled, sipping at the water glass, and then turned her head as his tablet buzzed. His brow furrowed as he saw that it was an audio call on a scrambled frequency.

“That's weird,” he said as he swiped the button to take the call. “Hello?”

“Nathaniel,” came a familiar voice. He sat forward.

“Sybil?” he said. “You shouldn't be calling me.”

“Don't tell me what I shouldn't do,” she didn't sound distressed at all. “What are you doing these days?”

“I'm uh…” He glanced to Sienna, confused. “You know. Hanging out on suspension.”

“Yeah, did you know suspended witches can still work?” she asked, and he furrowed his brow.

“No?”

“I mean, you can still come and help me, you just aren't reimbursed by the Academy and all.”

“Do you need help?” he asked, confused.

“I could use some help,” she seemed so casual about it, but that was Sybil. Nathaniel had never known her to be bothered by anything, even when they were in a life or death situation. “Do you feel like coming to be some bait?”

He choked. “Sorry?”

“Did Mariah not tell you I was on the tail of Reynolds? I realize this is a sensitive situation, but I could probably lure him out with Desmond's former Tiro. Or Desmond himself.”

Nathaniel paused. “Sorry, Sybil, the connection must be bad. I thought I heard you say that you wanted witches on suspension to come and help you on a sensitive, undercover mission. Sensitive in more ways than one.”

“That's what I said. Should I just tell you my coordinates, or should I send them to you?”

“Sybil,” he stood up, ignoring Sienna's gasp and wide-eyed look. “Are you crazy?”

“Very possibly,” she said. “Are you going to come?”

“Oh, my Creator,” he shook his head. “I don't know. Things are…complicated here.”

“Things are kind of complicated here, too,” she replied. “I thought I was your best friend in the whole galaxy.”

“Sybil, are you going to die?” he asked, which didn't exactly mean what it sounded like. It was the code they developed whenever they absolutely needed each other.

“Yes,” she said, and he sighed.

“Let me talk to Desmond. Can I get you back on this frequency?”

“You can,” she said. “But if you do come…just the three of you, all right? It's not an easy situation.”

“You don't want Mariah?” he said, confused.

“I don't want to put her in danger she doesn't need to be in,” Sybil replied. “Reynolds knows she loves me, but it won't affect him in any way. I have extra incentive. Your girlfriend has just been assigned to my case.”

“My girlfriend…,” Nathaniel was extra confused now.

“Laura? And her Tiro, Devon?”

Sienna practically fell off the bed trying to get close enough to the speaker. “Sybil? Devon is there?”

“Hello, Sienna,” Sybil replied. “He'll be here shortly, and I hear he's awesome, so I'm excited about it.”

“Maestro, we have to go,” she said to Nathaniel, who pointed back to the bed.

“Sit,” he said, firmly. “Sit or I won't even ask Desmond. Four hours ago, you weren't even conscious, Sienna, so don't think for a moment we're bolting tonight. Stay here, all right?”

She moved backward toward the bed, looking scolded. He ducked outside the room and into the hallway where he could have some privacy.

“Sorry,” he said to Sybil.

“Is she all right to travel?” Sybil asked.

“No,” he said, honestly.

“Would you consider coming without her?”

He sighed, his mind flashing to the promise he had just made to Sienna. “Probably not, Sybil.”

“I get it,” Sybil said. “So, you have a choice to make.”

“I do,” Nathaniel answered. “I have to talk to Desmond, at least. How long can you give me?”

“An hour?” Sybil replied. “I don't actually need you for a day or two, but I need to know the plan and soon.”

“I understand,” he replied. “I'll call you back.”

He hung up, his mind whirling. This whole thing was complicated enough, but the addition of Laura made things even more complex.

When he was last at home, he had a love affair with her. It was brief, and it wasn't exactly against Eliza's wishes. Up until this visit, they had rarely been together enough to consider being exclusive. Eliza didn't know about it, just as he didn't ask about what she did when he was away. Still, it felt like a secret that he was carrying.

He reached out for Desmond and found him asleep. He winced at the awkwardness of the situation, but he knew that it had to be done. Walking down the hall, he knocked on Desmond's door, knowing that Mariah was likely inside with him.

It took a few tries, but his former Maestro came to the door, leaving the room darkened.

“I have to talk to you,” Nathaniel said. “Now.”

“Is Sienna all right?”

“For now,” Nathaniel said. “Come with me.”

Once they were in the lounge, Nathaniel played the call for Desmond, which his tablet had automatically recorded. Desmond listened quietly, his face solemn.

“Delete that,” he said, and Nathaniel moved to do so.

“Of course, I just wanted you to hear her exact wording. She may sound calm, but it's pretty clear she's in distress. She wouldn't ask unless she was in serious trouble.”

“Her plan is sound,” Desmond replied. “If you take the emotions out of it, it's one of the best ones.”

“But the emotions are in it,” Nathaniel answered. “Yours, hers, mine, Mariah's. Not to mention that if we were assigned a quest at the Academy right now, I would cancel it because of Sienna.”

“What do you think?” Desmond asked him. “You are a Maestro as well as I.”

“I…,” Nathaniel sighed. “I don't know. There are too many factors.”

“Which choice puts everyone involved in the most danger?” Desmond asked.

“Going,” Nathaniel knew the answer quickly. “But, if you factor in what Reynolds is capable of, then staying.”

“So, we go,” Desmond said. “Our only question is whether to leave our Tiro.”

“That's not a question,” Nathaniel answered. “I'm not leaving her.”

Desmond held his gaze for a long moment, and then nodded.

“Fine,” he said. “I will inform Mariah. She'll at least want to know.”

“There is another option,” Nathaniel said slowly. “I could go with Sienna, and you could stay.”

“No,” Desmond was quick to speak. “Reynolds is my Tiro, and I will not walk away from him this time.”

“Maestro, you did not walk away from him the first time,” Nathaniel said, and Desmond gave him a small, pained smile.

“I gave up on him,” Desmond said. “We fought it for years, but in the end, he could only walk away because I accepted it.”

“Desmond, you know that's not true,” Nathaniel replied. “He didn't want to be a witch; he didn't want to work to help people. He was drunk on his power.”

“He chose a different path,” Desmond said. “Whether you or I believe it's wrong, is not the debate. A Tiro cannot go astray until their Maestro releases them from their commitments.”

“You aren't going to try and win him back?” Nathaniel asked in shock. “Get him to return to our side?”

“That ship has long sailed,” Desmond said. “And I have accepted that the Reynolds I tried to train, is not the Reynolds that remains. I know Sybil will do what she has to do for the good of the galaxy. But I would like to lay eyes on him one last time. So, I will be coming with you.”

“Even if it kills us all,” Nathaniel said dryly, knowing there was a good chance of that. As witches, this is what they always accepted as a possibility. To die in the service of magic was an honor–an acceptable form of return to the Earth. And even if he wasn't keen to do that, Sybil needed help. They needed to go, regardless of the massive complications. If this was how they could serve, beyond what the Jurors decided, then so be it.

Even if it did kill them all.

Chapter 5

Eliza said nothing about the fact that they were leaving. However, she was clearly not impressed that Nathaniel was running off on a dangerous mission that he wasn't even obligated to go on. She understood all the reasons–from Sybil, to needing to find Reynolds–but it still didn't make her any less annoyed as he packed.

“Please don't be like that,” Nathaniel said as he fit a final piece of clothing into his rucksack. Witches were supposed to have very little in terms of possessions, but they had gotten lax when they were here. “We'll be back as soon as we can.”

“I understand duty, Nathaniel,” Eliza said. “The problem is, this isn't duty. Not really. It's a choice that you are making and you spent an hour telling me how dangerous it is.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he asked. “She's my best friend.”

“And it has nothing to do with the blonde Maestro?”

He froze. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm not an idiot,” she said. “I saw the way you were looking at her last time I was at the Academy. I don't mind, Nathaniel; I can't swear you to my side. But it feels like you are running off to her, rather than to me.”

“I'm not,” he answered, taking a step toward her. “I swear, it has nothing to do with that. We had already made our choice before Sybil told me she was coming.”

Eliza took a step back, not wanting to be held just yet. “Sienna's life is being put in danger,” she said. “My medics agree.”

“Her life is always in danger,” Nathaniel answered.

“Nathaniel, she is a citizen of Jeffro,” Eliza snapped. “I have a right to protect her.

“But she's not,” Nathaniel replied. “She's a witch, and her life belongs to the magic.”

Eliza held her ground. They fought often, but this felt different, as if they had crossed a line.

“No,” she said. “Her life belongs to her. Does she even want to go?”

“Of course, she does,” Nathaniel said.

Eliza raised an eyebrow. “No, she doesn't. She wants to go wherever the two of you are, but she's perfectly happy for it to be here.”

“Eliza,” he put his hands to his face. “Please. I don't know what else to say. I have to go, and you have to accept it.”

“Mmm,” she said, and he didn't like the cold look that came over her face. “Always.”

And with that, she swept out of the room.

“Argh,” he punched the pillow on his bed where they had lain not an hour ago, snuggling. For years, she had accepted their relationship as it was: forbidden and with visits few and far between.

He didn't particularly want to leave her either. But the magic called to him, to his need to fight and continue growing. He couldn't remain in this limbo forever.

Finishing his bag, he threw it on his back and took one last look around the room. He had told her that he would be back, but he wasn't entirely sure that he would be. She was right; this was a dangerous mission. And the Jurors could make their choice at any time.

“Maestro,” Sienna's voice sounded at the door. She was leaning against the door frame, and he tensed. He was always cautious after she had such an episode, unsure when her strength would return. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” he said. “Where's your rucksack?”

“Desmond took it,” she said. “But I came to get you. The ship is ready.”

“Already?” he tried to put a smile on his face. “Were you going to leave without me?”

“No,” she grinned. “Of course not. You must pilot.”

“If I remember how,” he said, thinking it had been eight months since he had been behind the wheel of a ship. “Are you well, little one?”

“Yes,” she said. “But I do not like space.”

“I know,” he indicated she should follow as they walked down the hallway. He was trying to keep his thoughts distracted so that she did not feel the anger that was within him. “Where's your blue sweater? That one is warm.”

“Rucksack,” she said, and he sighed.

“Not a good place for it. Get it out, otherwise you are going to get cold before we even leave the atmosphere.”

He led her down the twisting and turning hallways and into the hangar. It had been such a different feeling when they arrived. They were in a daze, unsure of what the future held. His secondary concern had been for Eliza and the attack on her main palace by her cousin, Ladd. Ladd was dead, resurrected accidentally by a spell Sienna had done. Luckily, those who walked through the door she made with the leftover ripples could not survive long, and he had soon vanished. So long as he could keep Sienna from doing resurrection magic, there should be no more accidental villains

It was not lost on him what a treasure that spell was and how she was the only one that could do it. Yet, the Jurors saw her Maestros' indiscretion as a possible reason to throw all of that away. He was devoted to the magic, but sometimes, he thought that they really didn't think things through.

“It's a Halifax Pier,” Desmond greeted him, naming the type of ship. “You've done a flight in those once or twice, right?”

“Yes,” Nathaniel replied. “Not the most comfortable to get to the Outer Rim, but perhaps not surprising.”

“You really should stop fighting with Eliza at inconvenient moments,” Desmond answered, trying to make light of the situation.

“Easier said than done,” Nathaniel answered, rolling his eyes. “Hop aboard, Sienna. Desmond and I will make sure that everything is ready.”

“Yes,” she scampered up the rack, and Nathaniel waited until she was out of earshot before he spoke with Desmond.

“Halifax Piers are well-equipped medically,” he said. “Eliza had that in mind, at least. She's angry about that part the most.”

“Of course,” Desmond said with a soft smile. “Just as Mariah used to get when she thought I mistreated you.”

“Mistreated?” Nathaniel was shocked. “I was never mistreated by you.”

“I know that, and you know that,” Desmond replied. “But you'd go to Mariah with your lip stuck out, and suddenly, I was in trouble.”

“I…,” Nathaniel paused and then managed a smile. “I suppose I may have done that once or twice.”

“Or three or four hundred times,” Desmond rolled his eyes with a smile. “Now you know what it's like. Eliza won't stay mad forever. It will be fine. It always is with the two of you.”

“Are you sure?” Nathaniel asked. “Because I'm not.”

“Go on board and set the coordinates,” Desmond answered. “These are just medical supplies and rations. As soon as they are set, I'll join you.”

“Right,” Nathaniel took a deep breath, looking around. “It seems odd to be leaving after so long. It was starting to feel like home.”

“Where is home?” Desmond answered, trying to prompt into an old adage.

“Magic,” Nathaniel said half-heartedly as he boarded the vessel.

Desmond was about to follow a moment later, the last of the boxes put aboard, when he sensed Mariah's presence.

Unlike Eliza, she understood completely why they had to go. She understood why Sybil had asked her to not to come, and she didn't protest when Desmond announced how soon they were leaving. She was worried–that much was clear–‘but not clouded with emotion. Now, she approached Desmond carefully, navigating the busy hangar.

They had already spent the night saying goodbye, but he was grateful for the last minute send off. He memorized every aspect of her face as she approached, burning it into his mind's eye. He never wanted to forget how she made him feel, how beautiful he felt her very soul was.

“Can you give this to Sybil when you see her?” Mariah held out a small, velvet bag, reaching for his strong hand.

“Of course,” Desmond answered. “What is it?”

“Quartz,” Mariah said, naming the most powerful of the witch crystals. Quartz would allow them to draw instant power no matter where they were. They could be seven feet underground in caves that had never seen the light of day and still draw magic from quartz as if they were in a majestic garden. “I want her to have a little bit extra of luck…just in case.”

“I'm sure she won't need it,” Desmond assured her, but slipped it in his pocket all the same.

“Please take care of her,” Mariah touched his arm. “She and Kierry can be so reckless sometimes. I know what they are up against.”

“As if they were my own Tiros,” Desmond assured her. “You will be reunited with her, I promise.”

“Take care of yourself as well,” Mariah replied. “This can't be easy, especially if I'm right about Sybil's plan. If she finds him, she likely doesn't intend to bring him in front of the Jurors. You and I both know that won't do any good.”

Desmond took a deep breath. “I know,” he answered. “She will do what is necessary, and I will accept it. We are just going to protect her, Mariah, to aid her. My priority is the quest she is on.”

“But your heart is with Reynolds,” Mariah answered.

“Do you not know me as a witch?” Desmond answered. “You know I would never betray–”

“I know you won't externally,” Mariah answered. “But I know your heart is torn. Just remember that Nathaniel needs you now and that Sienna needs you. That I need you.”

“I will,” he wrapped her in a tight hug, pulling her close. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, her very essence. “I will see you soon.”

If they were other people, other beings, perhaps even younger, they might have said that they loved each other. Instead, they pulled back, locking minds and exchanging emotion that nearly bowled both of them over.

It took every ounce of willpower for Desmond to tear away from her. He squeezed her hand one last time, and then turned, heading up the platform.

“Nathaniel!” he said to indicate that he was on board.

“Rise up,” came Nathaniel's cry from the pilot's chair. The platform began to rise, the mechanics clicking as it locked into place. Desmond strolled forward, settling into the co-pilot's seat and trying to distract his mind.

“It's unusually quiet up here,” Desmond said, looking around. “It's never good when things are quiet.”

“She's just exploring,” Nathaniel said. “This is a warship; she's only ever dreamed of being on one. Are you ready?”

“Aye,” Desmond said as Nathaniel powered up. He flicked a switch on the ceiling, activating the intercom system.

“Sienna, buckle up, wherever you are,” he said, his voice echoing through the ship. Both of them paused, waiting to feel the answer that she was safe. Desmond put his hand on the left thruster and Nathaniel on the right.

As soon as they felt her settled at the back of the ship, they pushed the handles forward.

The ship fired up, and they bolted out of the hangar. Nathaniel hung a hard left, and they rose, indicating they were headed to the intergalactic highway. They passed the clouds and through the atmosphere, and then he flipped the switches, pushing them into hyperspace. Desmond braced himself for the jump as Nathaniel engaged the thrusters further.

‘Reynolds.’ He reached out with his mind, trying to ping him. He used to do it every morning, just as he did with all those he cared about. He always felt him, but it was always filled with pain and sadness.

This time, he felt fear.

‘I'm coming, Desmond sent. It fit for their undercover mission, but it wasn't for the right motives. ‘I'm coming to you, Tiro.’

Chapter 6

Once they were in hyperspace, Nathaniel was able to set the controls to autopilot. It was over twenty-four hours until they reached their destination, and he hated sitting in the pilot's seat for longer than he needed to.

“I bet Christa could find a way to get us there in three,” he said as he got up. He was referring to Desmond's former Tiro, before him, and after Reynolds. Christa was known for being the best pilot the Academy had ever had. Desmond jerked out of the daze he was in.

“Not without killing us,” he replied, watching Nathaniel.

“I was under the impression that she just cared about getting into the record books,” Nathaniel answered. “So, her passengers being dead doesn't really matter.”

“That could be correct,” Desmond answered. “Where are you going?”

“Do you know how long it's been since I've been on a Halifax Pier?” he asked. “I'm exploring, too.”

“Call if you get stuck in an escape hatch,” Desmond replied half-heartedly, turning his attention back to the window. The stars were going by too fast to see anything, but he seemed content to gaze out into the blackness.

Nathaniel left him to his thoughts, making his way to the back of the ship.

‘Sienna,’ he called out, unsure of where she had gotten to.

‘Here,’ came the reply, and he followed the ping until he came into the gun deck. There was one gun up on the command deck, and the rest were down below. She was sitting in one of the chairs, the periscope at her waist, and her eyes glued to it.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “Are you going to blast someone out of the sky? I don't think you can do that at hyperspace.”

“I know,” she said, as she pulled back. “But I've only sat at fake ones.”

“In school?” he asked, and she nodded. “Well, I failed there. I should have at least taught you.”

“Mmm,” she fiddled with the buttons idly. “This doesn't require magic.”

“Pushing a button and firing a gun?” he asked. “No, it doesn't.” He took a seat opposite her, and she looked to him, picking at the red paint over the buttons that was coming off.

“But it is easier with magic,” she said.

“Not necessarily,” he said. “There are many sharpshooters renowned for their skill who don't have any magic at all to anticipate or aim. You have to remember, Sienna, magic can always be traced, no matter how careful or how skilled you are. So, if you trying to shoot someone without them noticing, you have to hope that they aren't pinging for your magic.”

“Oh,” she said, although she knew this. “Language doesn't require magic.”

“Language?” he asked. “Translation, you mean? No, that doesn't. Not to speak it. Why are you talking about this?”

She shrugged. “Just in case I need to.”

“You won't need to,” he assured her. “We're going to find a way.”

“Uh huh,” she replied, although she clearly didn't believe him. “Now that we are on the ship, I can call Devon?”

“Devon?” Nathaniel asked. “No. That needs to be a surprise”

“But we are in space now,” she said. “I am coming to him. I should be safe.”

“I don't even know where they are,” Nathaniel tried to tell her.

“That's okay, I can–”

“You certainly aren't pinging him,” Nathaniel answered. “You can wait.”

She gave him a sly look. “You are excited to see Laura?”

“Let's talk about something else,” he said quickly. If he so much as thought a few words, she would know exactly what happened.

“We are to be…bait?” she asked. “Reynolds will come for Desmond?”

“Yes,” Nathaniel answered. “Sybil is still working on the plan, but it looks like the idea is for Desmond to act like he's gone rogue, and to…bring you.”

“Me?” she said, in shock. “Why me?”

“Because Reynolds will have heard of you,” Nathaniel said. “Everyone knows of your power, little one. He will want you for his side.”

“Never,” she said, and Nathaniel shrugged.

“Yes, but that is the part that you must play. It's not hard, just follow Desmond's lead.”

“And you?” she asked.

“I will be joining Sybil,” he said, and her eyes widened.

“No, Nathaniel. We can't be apart.”

He chuckled softly. “We won't be. I will pretend as if it's Sybil influence that has turned me, and Desmond will go looking for me, and then find Reynolds.”

“Reynolds will believe Desmond wants to turn?” she asked.

This made Nathaniel look at the ground. “Yes,” he said. “But I want you to remember that anything Desmond says, or I say…it's acting. Listen to the bond, all right? No one but the three of us can penetrate those thoughts, and there you will find the truth.”

“Desmond has always walked a greyer line than most,” Sienna said at last.

“Which is why it will be more believable,” Nathaniel answered. “It's just an act, remember that.”

“Of course,” she said. They took on roles and quests all the time, and she was used to going with the flow of things. “You have met him? Reynolds?”

“Never,” Nathaniel answered. “I've only heard stories of who he used to be.”

“It will be interesting,” she said, “to see the first Tiro that drew Desmond.”

“Someday, someone will say that about you,” he smiled as he stood up. “Come on, let's explore the rest.”

She shivered as she stood, and he snapped his fingers to the rucksack she was still carrying. “Sweater,” he said, and she reluctantly put it on. “Just because we aren't on an official quest doesn't mean you have to freeze.”

“Do you think the Jurors will take us back?” Sienna asked. “After this?”

“Uh…,” Nathaniel paused. “I don't know, to be honest. I haven't thought about it like that.”

“Perhaps Desmond will feel less guilty,” she said, and that stopped him.

“What?” he answered. “He doesn't feel guilty. I mean, I could see why he would, but I don't feel any guilt off him. He and Mariah maintain that they have done nothing wrong and have never let their relationship distract them.”

“He didn't used to,” she answered. “But he does lately.”

“Sienna,” he said at last, “don't dive into people's innermost thoughts, all right?”

“Because it's not polite?” she responded automatically.

“Because it's not polite, but also because sometimes, you dig so deep that you realize feelings they have not even realized yet. That could come as quite a shock if they hear it from you before they realize it themselves, all right?”

“Can't everyone do this?” she asked.

“No, little one, you're the only one, who is this powerful,” he said. “Desmond and I may be able to work in combat, but we can't do what you do, and you know that. You know you're special. Which are words Reynolds may tell you to sway you.”

“I wouldn't ever do that,” she swore. “What he says will be false.”

“It won't all be false,” Nathaniel warned her. “That is what makes that type of magic so dangerous. He will use the truth against you to suggest that the path you are on is not correct.”

“No,” she swore, and he smiled. She was determined, as she always was.

But he knew that Sienna had also lived a very sheltered life. She had never experienced Acheronian magic before, just as she had never fired a gun. By her age, most witches had already fought in a battle, already taken a life, and seen all kinds of magic.

He knew that he, as her Maestro, was at fault for this. She was ill equipped, but he didn't really see another way around it at the moment. He couldn't risk her life any more than they already did. Usually, he was all right with the way things were. But sometimes, there were glaring examples of just what a different life they were living.

“This is a big ship,” Sienna said as they walked. They were moving slowly, cautiously, both for her own safety and in case of unexpected bumps. “Eliza likes us.”

“Sure,” Nathaniel answered as they rounded the corner to where the bunks were. They were meant for soldiers, stacked on top of each other with white, coarse sheets and topped with a single pillow. “Oh. Well, it's just for one night, isn't it?”

Sienna made a face. “A long night.”

He smiled, giving her a little bump on the shoulder. “You won't even notice,” he said. “Come on, let's–”

That was when a giant jolt threw both of them sideways.

“What the hell?” Nathaniel caught her, slamming his own shoulder into the wall as leverage. There would likely be a bruise in the morning, but he didn't really care. “What was that?” ‘Desmond?’

‘Meteor shower, as far as I can tell,’ Desmond's frantic thoughts came back. ‘I'm trying to re-set our course.’

“It's okay.” Nathaniel pulled Sienna down where they couldn't be hurled across the ship. They sat on the floor, both of them gripping onto the rails made for just this purpose. “You heard that?”

She nodded, although she looked a bit frightened. He quickly remembered that this was another experience she had only had in simulation.

“You know this is Christa's favorite time to fly?” he tried to distract her. “She likes meteor showers; she says they keep her alert. Ah!”

They clearly hit something big, and he braced.

‘Desmond!’

‘Man the guns,’ Desmond's thoughts came back.

‘For what?’ Nathaniel thought, in shock.

This is not a meteor shower. We're under attack.’

Sienna heard those thoughts, meeting her Maestro's eyes with the terror.

“I thought–”

“You may get to use those skills after all,” he said, eyeing the distance between them and the guns. “When I count to three, we run. Sit in the seat and buckle yourself up, do you understand?”

“You are coming?”

“No, I have to fly,” he said. “But we are connected, little one. Don't forget that.”

She looked terrified, but nodded. Nathaniel wished that he had the time to comfort her; the time to explain what the best procedure was. But he needed to get up front and assess the situation before they were blown to bits. A Halifax Pier was a warship, but it was useless if it was unmanned.

“Are you ready?” he asked, and she nodded. “One-two-three! Go!”

They bolted in opposite directions, his mind locked on hers, even as he raced to the front.

Desmond looked frazzled when he got there, trying to run both piloting chairs and ready the gun in the command center.

“What is it?” Nathaniel asked.

“Pirates, I think.” Desmond answered. “Raiders.”

“Pht, it's nothing.” Nathaniel turned on the minter, and then his jaw dropped. “Unless there's a fleet of about 1000. Holy…”

“We have to attack,” Desmond answered. “Or they'll overtake us.”

“Like hell they will,” Nathaniel replied as he began to input commands. “Get on the gun up here. I've got Sienna on the back ones.”

This was what they were used to and had done so together for years on end. They flowed into it as if they had never left, moving as a unit. They only difference now was their young Tiro in the back, engaged in her very first space battle.

Chapter 7

“Hold onto your hats,” Nathaniel said as he dodged yet another pirate attack. He knew that there were too many for them to actually win, but he didn't need to have every single one shot down. He just needed enough shot down that he could get a clear path out of there.

The pirate ships were small, but they often won attacks by their tiny shots hitting large ships in impressive numbers. One shot wasn't going to do much, but a thousand was a different story.

“Um,” Desmond said, as they nearly flipped upside down, “that was unnecessary.”

“Never wanted Christa more than now,” Nathaniel gripped the steering wheel. “Here's a clear shot set up for you.”

‘Maestro.’

The cry came loud and clear, and both of them tensed.

‘Sienna, are you hurt?’

‘I can't do this.’

Desmond half smiled, even as he was blowing ships apart. ‘You can do this, little one. One at a time.’

‘I can't.’

Nathaniel chimed in then. ‘Devon is on the other side.’

Three pirate ships blew in succession, one after the other.

Desmond raised an eyebrow. “Not good motivation, Nathaniel,” he said.

Nathaniel shrugged. “It worked, didn't it? Woah!” He misjudged a turn and slammed into four of them. There was a giant crash, and then red lights started flashing. The alarm blared, and he checked the monsters “Oops.”

“What did you break?”

“The back hatch probably won't work,” Nathaniel answered.

‘Sienna, leave the guns and come to the front.’

She didn't need to be told twice. She rushed to the front of the ship, her heart pounding and her hands trembling. She had dreamed of being a warrior, but she had never factored in the part where she was afraid.

“Okay, sit and buckle up.” Nathaniel pointed to the co-pilot seat. “I didn't want you in the back in case something sparked.”

“To your left,” Desmond said, and Nathaniel dodged just in time. Sienna gripped the seat belt, breathing heavily as she tried to not scream out in alarm. This was not easy, and she couldn't understand why they were so calm. How could they not see that this was the most terrifying moment of their lives? “And now to the right.”

“Thank you. I have eyes,” Nathaniel answered as he zigzagged. Finally, he saw a clear path, and he hit a few buttons. “Hold on!”

Sienna screamed as they launched into hyperspace, the force pushing her back into her seat. She was sure they were going to hit the wall of ships or have one come right through the windshield. This was not how she wanted to die.

But they were fine.

She cracked open one eye, her heart pounding.

“Wahoo!” Nathaniel cheered, turning to Desmond with a grin. “Still got it!”

“With only minor damage,” Desmond answered, unimpressed as he got up. “But still flying, so that's an improvement over the last few times.”

“I feel your faith in me is so little,” Nathaniel teased him as he shut down the war systems. “You should trust me more, Maestro.”

“I haven't jumped from the ship screaming, have I?” Desmond said with a smile. Both of them were keeping up a bit of humor in order to keep Sienna calm. She was clearly nervous, but they were flooding the air with calming vibes. “Yet.”

“I'm hungry, actually,” Nathaniel said as if they hadn't just made their way through a giant space battle. “Sienna? You interested in food?”

“No.” She was clear on that.

Nathaniel turned his head to notice her left cheek was starting to bruise rather badly. “Did you fall?” he asked, and she nodded. “Did you hit your head?”

“No,” she said. “Just when I ran from the gun room. I'll be all right.”

If she could accept stronger forms of magic, he could reach over and heal her. Instead, he kept his hand still, turning to Desmond. “Shall we get food then?”

“I think so,” Desmond answered. “So long as you have the autopilot enabled properly. It will alert us if there is an incoming object”

“Could the pirates…follow us?”

“If they wanted,” Nathaniel said. “But I'm sure that they don't want to. They hang around like that because they know the territory, and they have a plan. Chasing a bigger ship through space is not their style. There's nothing to be afraid of; we're safe now.”

She didn't move, staring into the black void. “Was it like this every day?” she asked. “When you were warriors?”

“Not every day,” Nathaniel replied. “But most days. It just second nature, Sienna. We barely noticed the difference between battle days and non-battle days.”

“But you could die at any moment,” she said.

“So could you,” Desmond said, and both of them turned to him in surprise “Death is a natural part of living, Sienna, and returning to Nature is not something that should be feared; especially if it is done in a way that is serving the magic.”

“Yes,” she said hesitantly.

He gave her a soft smile. “You know that your life is precious, little one. We do not choose how much time is given to us. We can only use that time wisely.”

“By not jumping out of ships?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“That's one way to start. Don't live your life in fear of death, for it is inevitable.”

She seemed to understand the seriousness of the moment, and he pushed himself up from his chair.

“Come. While we are safe from pirates, we might as well eat.”

“Why did you tell her that?” Nathaniel asked later that night as they sailed through the darkness of space. “About dying?”

“You disagree?” Desmond asked.

“I don't disagree with the premises,” Nathaniel answered. “But I also don't want her to accept limitations that she doesn't have to accept.”

“Nathaniel,” Desmond looked him right in the eye, “you cannot deny the fact that our Tiro likely won't outlive us. Giving her false expectations isn't going to help the situation.”

“I know,” Nathaniel said. “But I'm not. She's capable of anything she puts her mind to.”

“For the time she is here, yes,” Desmond answered, and Nathaniel sighed.

“You're thinking about Reynolds, aren't you?”

“I'm not,” Desmond answered. “But I have been thinking about the man Reynolds could have potentially become–the witch he was supposed to become. I have imagined meeting him a hundred different times over the years, and now that I am about to, I have no idea what to say to him. Except….’” he trailed off.

“Except?” Nathaniel prompted.

“Except I'm sorry,” Desmond answered. Nathaniel didn't know what to say to that, fiddling with the controls.

“I'm angry at him,” he said, and Desmond raised an eyebrow.

“Why? You didn't know him.”

“No,” Nathaniel said. “But I feel the pain he caused you, and I even feel it in Mariah. I've always been angry at him since the day you told me the story.”

“Mmm,” Desmond answered. “Back in the days where it was just you and I at the controls of the ship.”

“And I didn't have to say the word sweater four-hundred times a day,” Nathaniel grinned. “Those were the days.”

“Get some rest,” Desmond said, after a moment. “I'll take the first watch. But I imagine now that we've gotten through the danger zone, it will be a quiet trip.”

Just as Nathaniel was about to answer, their monitor buzzed with an incoming call. He pressed the answer button, confused about who would be calling them at this hour.

Laura's beautiful face popped up on the screen, and Nathaniel swallowed hard. He hadn't seen her in months, and he had forgotten just how lovely she was. The very sight of her brought back memories that he had kept buried deep down.

“Well, hello there,” Laura said, with a smile. “Fancy meeting you on this transmission.”

“What can we do for you?” Nathaniel asked, hitting a few buttons to make sure their transmission was secure.

“I assume you are on your way?”

“We are,” he said. “Another few hours.”

“I'm transmitting you a report that Sybil wrote,” Laura said. “A few profiles from people who we are working with–their routines, that sort of thing.”

“Excellent,” Nathaniel replied as he accepted the file. “Can you send us the landing coordinates as well?”

“Already done,” she said. “Devon is going to meet your ship and take you to where we are hiding out. But as soon as you join the group, you are rebel witches. There are eyes everywhere.”

“Desmond and I are to be separate,” Nathaniel reminded her of the plan. “Is the hangar bay watched?”

“No,” Laura said. “Not really. You can probably get out a back exit and then join us later. All Reynolds' spies need to see is Desmond and Sienna joining us out in the open. We'll wait for you before we make our next move.”

“Excellent,” Nathaniel answered. “Also, I'm starving for something real. Do you have kitchens?”

Desmond smacked his former Tiro in the arm. In twenty years, it seemed very little had changed.

“We have kitchens,” Laura rolled her eyes. “I didn't miss that about you.”

“What did you miss?” Nathaniel couldn't help but ask.

Desmond took over the transmission. “We'll see you soon,” he said, and ended the call.

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Longer transmissions are easier to trace,” Desmond explained.

“Right,” Nathaniel answered. “Nothing is going to happen between me and Laura. I've still got Eliza's face in my mind.”

“Can I remind you that the reason we are in this mess to begin with is because I had Mariah's face in my mind?” Desmond asked him.

“It's not a mess,” Nathaniel assured him. “It's an adventure.”

“Always the optimist,” Desmond called after him. He was grateful that his former Tiro did not blame him at all for their suspension. But then, Desmond knew it was because he had supplied Nathaniel with the mindset that some rules were meant to be broken. Had he taught him to walk the line that the Jurors set out for them, then it would, perhaps, be a different story.

Desmond knew that they couldn't change the past, no matter what magical ability they had. They could only work through their future.

Neither of them were awake when sunrise came, and Desmond didn't mind. He wouldn't have been able to sleep anyway, his thoughts preoccupied by Reynolds He navigated the ship into a landing descent and left it on autopilot as he went to gather his things.

This was the first undercover mission that they had attempted in quite a while. Sienna wasn't properly trained for them, even though she should have been. Desmond made sure to load Laura's files onto her tablet, so that she would be able to refer to them if she was unsure. All he needed was to pretend that he wanted to join Reynolds' rebellion.

And given how the Jurors had treated them recently, Desmond didn't think that was going to be hard. He didn't want to use his magic for evil, but more and more often, he found himself thinking of finding freedom from the strict rules that were set out and the life they demanded the witches live. He missed Mariah, even now, and he wasn't sure he ever wanted to miss her again.

Chapter 8

“Devon!”

Nathaniel realized he had neglected to tell Sienna that it was Devon who was going to be waiting for them. As she walked down the ramp, her face lit up in a kind of happiness that he rarely saw. She picked up her pace, rushing down the ramp. Devon opened his arms, and she flew into them, giggling.

“He doesn't look well,” Desmond said quietly to Nathaniel, who cast his gaze on the boy. Devon was taller than he used to be, but also thinner and a bit paler. It was as if his height hadn't caught up to the fact that he was chronically ill.

Unlike Sienna, though, Devon's condition was well managed and known to the med bay. It was terminal, but he tolerated all the treatments well, mostly through a continuous intravenous pump, hidden under his clothing. He felt almost no effects from his illness. Which meant he and Laura could continue to go on quests that required high levels of energy until the moment he no longer could.

“He's progressed,” Nathaniel admitted as he watched Devon swing Sienna around. If he was going to walk down the platform, he would have yelled out, but he couldn't make his presence known. He would wait until they were gone and then sneak out the back way. “Speaking of, you have everything she needs? You know that she needs the red pills at noon and–”

“Nathaniel,” Desmond said. “I may not have been the one physically dealing with the medication, but I've been here every day. She'll be fine.”

“Right,” Nathaniel answered, taking a deep breath. “See you on the other side then.”

“See you then,” Desmond said, and took a few steps down the platform.

Devon finally put Sienna down, a wide smile on his face. “How are you?” he asked.

“Excited,” she whispered. “It's been so long.”

“It has,” he said. “I couldn't believe this…choice…brought me you.” His language was slightly guarded, remembering that there could be spies anywhere.

“Yes, this choice.” She, too, chose her words carefully. Desmond approached from behind, and she turned to him. “Maestro, you remember Devon?”

“Uh, yes, I remember Devon,” Desmond answered, rolling his eyes. “Do you think I am so old and senile, Sienna?”

She bit her lip, trying to not let a smartass reply fall out. Devon held his hand out to Desmond, who shook it.

“Good to see you again,” Devon said. “Welcome.”

“Your Maestro awaits us, I think?” Desmond answered. “Do you know the way?”

“Yes,” Devon assured him. “She is waiting for you.”

“Sounds…hailful,” Sienna said and both of the turned to her in confusion.

‘Sienna?’

‘Ominous,’ she answered with her mind.

“Baleful,” Desmond answered. “The correct term is baleful, but that's not quite right. Ominous.”

Devon smiled at her as they walked. “Forgot how cute that was when you do that.”

“Ahem,” Desmond answered, raising an eyebrow.

Devon quirked an eyebrow right back. “This is the advantage to the Acheronian side, Maestro. Relationships are allowed.”

Desmond wondered if he was playing a part in that moment, but decided not to question it.

He allowed Devon to lead the two of them through the crowded streets and down back alleyways. They mostly walked in silence after that, trying not to give too much away with their voices or their minds. Devon did seem to know where he was going, though, and Desmond said nothing until he threw himself against a door in a black alleyway.

“Devon,” Desmond said, grabbing him. He didn't know the details of the boy's medical condition, but he wasn't sure if this type of behavior was a side effect.

Devon simply grinned. “It's okay,” he said. “This is the only way to get in.”

Sure enough, the door that had no handle suddenly flew open.

Devon led them through what looked like an abandoned kitchen and dark, dirty bedrooms. Desmond was about to ask him what was going on when he pushed through another door.

And there, in a well-lit area that had been hidden from the rest of the house, was Sybil, Kierry, and Laura.

“You made it,” Sybil said with a grin as she got up. Desmond was like a father to her, and she was always glad to see him. “Welcome to my undercover world. Kierry, can you take Sienna to go get settled, while I fill Desmond in?”

“Here,” Desmond handed over Sienna's rucksack that he had been carrying. “Be good.”

“Maestro,” said Sienna, outraged at his suggestion that she would cause trouble. He rolled his eyes, and she accepted that as an apology, happily following Devon and Kierry into the back of the hidden house. “This is…big.”

“Sybil and I had plans when we found it,” Kierry said. Kierry was a tall sixteen-year-old who seemed so awe-inspiring and mature to Sienna. She always seemed confident with Sybil at her side, and the two made a fantastic pair. “All of you were in the plans from the start.”

“Good thing it worked out then,” Devon grinned. “This is my room,” he said, pointing. “So, Sienna, maybe this one?” He pushed opened the door to the left, showing a simple bed and closest. It wasn't grand, but she did note that it was as close to his room as possible.

“Uh…” She glanced around, looking for a hook. She occasionally needed IV infusions, but if she did, she needed a hook for them to work by gravity.

“Right,” Devon remembered without being asked, and pointed to the ceiling. “See? It's an old nail, but it should serve its purpose.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at him gently. She had missed him so much that it seemed surreal to just see him again. She knew they were on suspension for this very reason, but she couldn't help but reach out and touch his arm.

“I got you,” he answered, as Kierry headed back to the main room. Her hand lingered on his arm, and he put his own hand over it. “How are you, Sienna?”

“I'm….” She didn't have words to describe how she felt. “Exile is hard. But seeing you again makes it worth it. How are you?”

“Busy,” he said. “Since we last spoke, it's been a non-stop whirlwind. I don't think Laura and I have been home in three months.”

“Three months is a long time to not go back,” she said as she moved to sit on the bed.

“So is eight,” he answered, and she leaned against the headboard.

“Yes, but I haven't been saving the galaxy lately,” she said, as he sat on the foot of the bed. “You look–”

“I know,” he said, adjusting so he could put his feet up. It was comfortable to be sitting with him, Sienna thought. It was almost like they were a normal couple, on a normal day. “It's that obvious, eh?”

“But you're all right?”

“Oh yeah. I feel fine,” he said with a shrug. “But feeling fine is all in the mind, isn't it?”

“Maybe Laura shouldn't have such a rigorous pace for you,” she suggested. “I mean, would it be better if you had more time off?”

“I've thought of that,” Devon answered. “But I don't want to slow her down. Laura is rising to the top. She might even surpass your Nathaniel one day, if she keeps going. I can't do that to her.”

Sienna had often had those thoughts herself, usually late into the night when no one else was listening to her mind.

“So, what do you want?” she asked simply. He shook his head, tucking his knees up.

“I don't know,” he said. “I'm just talking. It is good to see you, though.”

“When do we see Reynolds?” she asked. “Is there a time?”

“We didn't make an appointment, if that's what you mean,” Devon grinned, back to his usual jovial and boisterous self. “No one has actually seen Reynolds yet. We know he's at the top of this food chain, but we have yet to lure him out. Which is why you're here, and Desmond is here. That should help.”

“I don't know that bait is an official Academy mission.”

“It totally is,” Devon said with a grin. “I've seen it posted once or twice. Usually it's for worse reasons–pretty girls and the like. But it is something they assign.”

“Well, it doesn't matter because they are not tracking our movements,” Sienna said with a shrug.

“But maybe you'll do so well that they will want you to go back,” Devon answered, and she met his eyes. He sensed something in her then, and paused. “Do you not want to go back?”

“Of course, I want to go back,” she said, but it didn't sound very convincing. “I just…have the same thoughts as you do.”

“Something to think about,” Devon replied, as he slid off the bed. “Come on. Our Maestros will be missing us.”

“I wonder when Nathaniel will get here,” Sienna said as she slowly got off as well.

“He's cautious, so an hour or two, I'm guessing,” Devon answered. “There's no plan until tomorrow anyway. We want word to travel through the city to Reynolds that Desmond is here.”

“I just don't know why he would want me,” Sienna said as they walked back down the hallway. “My power is uncontrolled and untrained.”

“Hope,” Devon said softly, and she turned to him.

“Hope?”

“The hope that he could control your power and have it for himself.” Their faces were just inches apart. Devon reached up, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “Hope is what keeps us alive, even when we aren't using our powers for good.”

“Hope,” she said, as he leaned in.

The kiss was short but sweet. She felt so much strength from him, so much happiness as their lips met. She wanted to snuggle closer to him, their lips never falling apart. She wished that they could have this moment together and no one could judge them. One small bit of happiness in a confusing world full of pain–that was all she wanted.

“I missed you,” Devon said softly in her ear. She hung onto him a moment longer, her arms wrapped around his neck.

“I missed you, too,” she said as they finally broke apart.

“We're together now,” Devon answered. “That's all that matters.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

Back in the main room, there was food being cooked and served. Sybil had apparently prepared a feast for them. Sienna went to her rucksack for the rations that she had gotten used to. Natural food was something that triggered her magic, the defective genes overreaching for anything that was naturally occurring. She was used to nibbling on synthetic rations, while everyone else ate a home-cooked meal. But Sybil called her over with a smile, holding a plate.

“When you're undercover, you don't go to the markets,” she said. “I checked with Nathaniel before you got here. Everything in there should be safe for you.”

She glanced to Desmond, who nodded his approval.

“Thank you,” Sienna said, settling down beside her Maestro. It had been a very long time since she had hot food, and she was grateful for it after the long trip. She felt included, snuggled among the chairs and shoulders as she ate with everyone. This trip may be for a terrible purpose, but it was certainly having its moments. “Nathaniel?”

“Not yet,” Desmond said. “But I'm used to this. He'll be here when he gets here.”

“Of course,” Sienna answered with a shrug as she dug in. “He's strong.”

“That he is,” Desmond assured her. “Don't worry.”

Chapter 9

By nightfall, Nathaniel had still not made an appearance, and even Desmond started to worry.

“Can you feel him?” Sienna asked him, and Desmond shook his head.

“He's blocking my thoughts for some reason,” he said. “Can you feel him? Be careful, little one. Don't overexert yourself.”

She closed her eyes, reaching out with her mind. She was normally so connected with Nathaniel. But they were also normally only an arm’s length apart. Despite the fact that Desmond was supposed to be her go-to during the day, she rarely went a moment without knowing where her younger Maestro was. They were inseparable in almost everything.

Except, it appeared, for today.

“I can….” She pushed her magic harder. “I feel the wall you feel. Just wait....”

‘Nathaniel,’ she called out to him, trying to find another route into his mind. There was no second call with Nathaniel; he never left her waiting when she called out to him.

“Sienna…” Desmond put a hand at her back, just in case.

“Mmm,” she grunted, her eyes still closed. The wall was dark, and she felt fear in the pit of her stomach. She knew he was there, but he wasn't answering. It wasn't just that he was asleep or unconscious. He was physically blocking her from getting in. However, Sienna's main skill was mind reading–reaching for words that people couldn't bring themselves to say.

With another push, she broke through the wall. The images that came into her mind then shocked her.

She saw a flash of someone's hand, heard a grunt, and then she felt pain across her face. Her hands flew to her nose, and she stumbled back against Desmond, seeing stars.

He caught her quickly, used to her falling, and lowered his knees in case she dipped farther.

She broke the connection, and the pain disappeared almost instantly. Her eyes flew open, and she knew the pain that she had felt was not her own.

“Desmond!” she said, as he helped her into a chair. The others gathered around, worriedly.

“I know,” he said. “I saw it, too. Something has happened.”

“Show me.” Sybil held out her hand. “Kierry and I have been exploring this area for months now. If something has happened, I might be able to recognize where he is.”

Sienna put her hand out, but Desmond brushed it aside, offering his own instead. Devon took her hand instead as Desmond transmitted the information to Sybil. It wasn't as good as seeing it from the firsthand magical supply, but Sienna knew she had already overextended herself.

“Do you want something?” Devon asked her, as he crouched down to be at her level.

“No,” she replied, content with just his touch. “Just stay.”

“I will.” He focused on her eyes, and Laura did not miss their look.

‘What are you doing?’ She asked her young Tiro, who didn't break his gaze from Sienna.

‘Living,’ Devon answered, and it almost broke Laura's heart to hear such an answer.

“I know where that is,” Sybil said suddenly, breaking all their concentration as her eyes flew open. “Do you remember, Kierry? That's the warehouse where they keep the contraband collected from the docks.”

“Yes,” Kierry answered. “But how? Why?”

“I highly doubt they will tell us those things,” Sybil said with a half grin. She was trying to keep a light heart. “We have to go to him. He's all right?”

“If Sienna could get through, he's all right,” Desmond answered. “I don't know why he's blocking us, though. Nathaniel has blocked me a few times in his life, mostly because of his temper, but he's never blocked Sienna's thoughts.”

“Is it possible that he is not doing it on purpose?” Laura asked. “I know I've been hit on the head a few times, and it's confused my thought process.”

“Nathaniel is a trained warrior,” Desmond pointed out. “He's used to being hit on the head.”

“Which explains so much,” Sybil couldn't help but throw in. “Sorry, old habits die hard. Shall we launch a team? What's our plan? I'm sure he's fine; he's Nathaniel.”

“Multiple entrances?” Desmond asked, and Sybil nodded. “Then we launch in teams. Each team takes an entrance, and we crowd them into the middle. Whoever they are. Is it possible that it's Reynolds' team?”

“It's possible...,” Sybil screwed up her face. “Technically. But I mean, this isn't their style. Reynolds' rebellion is not being led by force and violence. He knows he will get better loyalty if they come willingly to him.”

Desmond felt like someone had struck him upon hearing that explanation. It was exactly the type of thing that he used to tell Reynolds. He hadn't been talking about leaving the witches, of course, but he had been talking about running a government–a system, inspiring loyalty in soldiers.

In a lot of ways, he realized, Reynolds hadn't failed him. He had become a leader, a warrior, and he was strong. His name was known.

It was just for all the wrong reasons.

“So, someone else has him,” Laura spoke up, breaking Desmond out of his thoughts “Sybil?”

“No idea,” she said. “Suit up, Kierry. Let's go find out.”

Witches didn't often use weapons that weren't magic, but it appeared that Sybil and Kierry had created quite a storehouse. They had laser guns and enough ammunition to last them for days, if they had to. Which, Desmond thought, might be a reality if they were found out.

“Do you know how to use one of these?” Devon asked Sienna, who shook her head.

“I'll just stay behind Desmond,” she said.

Devon put one in her hand. “You're smart, you can figure it out,” he said, and she smiled. He had faith in her strength, and she hadn't had many people do that. Her Maestros kept her quietly behind them, and she didn't think much about what she could do to help. They had always made it clear they would ask. Otherwise, she would be taken care of.

“Thank you,” she said, as the rest of them grabbed what they needed. Devon winked at her as Sybil ushered them out.

“There are any number of rebel forces in this city,” she said. “The government is badly run, and I imagine they are going to stage a coup any day now. There is a black market, a blacker black market…essentially, everything is corrupt. Anyone could have him, and they could have him because they know who he is, or they don't.”

“So, that leaves things open,” Desmond said, his face set. “Really, we have no idea what we are up against.”

“Three Tiro-Maestro teams?” Sybil answered. “It doesn't matter what we are up against.”

As they continued to walk, Sienna attempted to reach out to Nathaniel again and again. But without breaking through the wall that had almost made her faint, she couldn't find anything useful. Desmond put a hand on her shoulder.

“Stop,” he said. “That will do no good.”

“But why would he block us out?” she protested. “It's not like him. He always finds a way to connect, even if it's through a back route. Somebody must have control of his mind.”

“No,” Desmond said. “You would be able to feel that when you went in.”

She was silent for a moment, and then looked up to him. “This is normal life,” she said, and he looked confused.

“What?”

“This,” she said. “Assignments, battles, death. This is normal life.”

“And what do you think of that?” he asked, trying to get the point she was making. “Do you want it to be normal life?”

“I don't know,” she answered truthfully. “I don't know where I fit.”

He slung an arm around her gently in an unusual display of affection. Perhaps it was the situation – the fact that two of his former Tiros were nearby and both were potentially in danger.

“You fit here,” he assured her, and she smiled at him. Even if she didn't believe the words that he said, she felt comforted by the fact that he believed them.

It wasn't long before they found the warehouse. Sienna had watched as the area became more run-down, and the people surrounding the buildings started to size them up.

“That's it,” she said to Sybil, trying not to point.

“Right. East, North, South,” Sybil said assigning the teams. “I don't know if I can reach out to all of you, but I can try.”

“I can do it,” Sienna spoke up, wanting to feel useful. “I can reach out to everyone's mind to coordinate our attacks.”

“Sienna…” Desmond said, and she looked up to him.

“Please. It's the only thing I can do. And it's Nathaniel.”

“Nathaniel, may I point out, will not let you do this,” Desmond answered. “But all right. Don't push hard, though. All we need is a countdown.”

“Yes,” she agreed, although she knew she would likely have to push harder than she let on. The teams split up, and Desmond and Sienna took the south entrance. Their keen ears could hear voices inside, and her heart began to pound. She had been calm until they got here, trusting that Nathaniel could watch out for himself. She trusted that her younger Maestro had a plan about what was going to happen. Now, she wasn't so sure.

Desmond leaned up against the door, listening. He was waiting for a moment where they quieted down enough to distinguish through footsteps and sounds how many were inside. He didn't want to reach out with magic in case they were witches, who would surely sense in ping.

Sienna waited for what felt like an eternity. Finally, her Maestro caught her eye and nodded.

“Now,” he said, and Sienna reached out to the others quickly.

‘Go!’

Everyone slammed through the doors, their magic working quickly to unhinge locks and push open bolts.

The team inside looked completely surprised to see them. Sienna had a sense of pride for a moment; they had tricked them; they had succeeded.

That is, until she saw her Maestro, strung up against the wall, his hands chained. His nose was broken, which was the pain that she had felt initially. His eyes were bruised nearly closed, but they forced themselves open.

His eyes widened when he saw her, and his gagged mouth tried to speak.

‘Get out,’ his thoughts pushed into her. ‘Get out.’

Sienna froze, and then she heard the thoughts he pushed to both of them.

‘It's Sienna they want.’

Desmond spun into action right away, grabbing her arm, and pushing her in between Sybil and himself. His hands were out, the magic springing from them as three brown aliens began to approach, a delighted look in their eyes.

“Sienna,” one said, his voice like scratching wallpaper. “The witch with everything.”

“The witch they will pay high prices for.”

“The witch we can't ignore.”

“We knew you'd come.”

“NOT TODAY!” Sybil was the one who shot first, a powerful blast of magic coming from her hands. Sienna watched in awe as Kierry fired as well, her magic intertwining her Maestro's in a perfectly timed attack.

Sienna could never do that without feeling it for days. She knew that Maestros and Tiros could, of course, but she had rarely seen it in practice.

The aliens flew back with a scream. Clearly, they hadn't planned their attack very well. They had thought, perhaps, that only Sienna would come for Nathaniel. Three against one was hard, but three against six wasn't even a notch on someone's belt.

Before they could even retaliate, they were nothing but corpses, falling to the ground.

Chapter 10

Sienna ran toward Nathaniel, oblivious to his injuries as Desmond disconnected the chains. His feet touched the ground, and his knees buckled, but he managed to right himself as Sienna threw her arms around him.

“You all right?” Desmond asked gruffly.

Nathaniel snorted. “Oh yeah, fine,” he said, as Sienna squeezed him. “Little one, it's all right,” he said in alarm at her sudden rush of emotions. “I'm fine. We're together.”

“But you could have not been!” she cried. “You could have been gone.”

“I'm not,” Nathaniel blocked out the rest of the world to look her in the eye. Desmond was impressed with his focus through his injuries. He could feel Nathaniel's heart rate was skyrocketing, but his former Tiro's every thought was calming his own Tiro. “I'm here.”

“Wow,” Sybil said softly, standing beside Desmond. He knew exactly what she was referring to.

“She's never been apart from him,” he answered. “Especially not like this.”

Sybil smiled. “Well, it's nice to see, at last.” She raised her voice. “Are you all right, oh classmate of mine in constant messes?”

“I'm fine,” Nathaniel finally answered, displaying more strength as he tried to straighten up.

“What happened?” Desmond asked, and Nathaniel shook his head.

“I don't even know. One moment, I was making my way through the streets and the next, it was blackness.”

“Magical?” Desmond asked, and Nathaniel shook his head.

“I don't know. I think it was chemical, so someone should probably run my blood. But when I woke up here, all they could talk about was….” He didn't need to finish the thought.

“Why do they want me?” Sienna filled in for him, still unwilling to leave his side. “What did I do?”

“It's not what you did,” Desmond tried to assure her. “It's what you can do.”

She glanced to the floor. “I can't do anything,” she said. “Not well.”

“You are capable of so much more,” Desmond reminded her. “And it's not a surprise that more than just the Academy knows about you.”

“We should tag their bodies,” Sybil said. “Bring them back. I can ask around on the streets to see if anyone knows them.”

“This isn't Reynolds' work?” Kierry spoke up.

“No,” Sybil was quick to recognize that. “It certainly is not. These aliens…I've never seen them around. I suspect there's another force at work here, one that we don't recognize yet.”

“Wait!” Devon, ever observant, neared them. He recognized a symbol tattooed on their arms, all of the marks identical on their right shoulders. “Look, Laura.”

She tore her eyes away from Nathaniel long enough to glance at her Tiro. Her eyes narrowed. “That's Black Caesar's mark.”

“What?” Sybil went over right away. Nathaniel wavered, and Sienna gasped. Desmond moved forward, wrapping his arm around his former Tiro's waist.

“Fine, eh?”

“Black Caesar is dead,” Nathaniel said, his voice cracking. He cleared it, watching intently. “There's no way people still work for him. That was one-hundred years ago.”

“And yet, that is his mark,” Devon crouched by one of their bodies. “Without a doubt. We learned about it a few years ago. Kierry, you should have just taken that course?”

“Oh yeah,” Kierry replied as she looked closer.

“Who’s Black Caesar?” Sienna asked, a stark reminder of the school she wasn't attending.

“He's a bounty hunter,” Desmond spoke up. “One of the most famous, and the most...interesting. He believed that witches were the scum of the universe and that he was cleaning up the planet by getting rid of them, starting with the most powerful. He was funded by groups who believed similar things.”

“They killed witches just for the sake of it?”

“Because they had beliefs of a universe that is obviously very different from ours,” Desmond reminded her, forever trying to teach her a world without evil. “But he is most certainly dead. And Reynolds' beliefs are very different from Black Caesar's, so I don't think for a moment that they would be working together, if Black Caesar was even alive.”

“Well, things just got more complicated,” Sybil answered. “Come on, Nathaniel. Let's get you some help.”

“Uh huh,” Nathaniel said, and Desmond raised his eyebrow.

“I may carry Sienna here and again, but you're a bit big, my Tiro.”

“I was hoping for old times' sake,” Nathaniel answered, but he managed the steps by himself.

“Can you make it?” Sybil teased him as they got back, opening the door.

“Getting lazy in my old age?” Nathaniel answered, as Sybil went to get the medical kit.

“Are you all right?” Devon asked Sienna quietly as they drew back from the chaos.

“Me?” she asked in surprise.

“Well, if I found out I was being hunted by a team of international bounty hunters, I'd probably be pretty shaken up. It'd also be an ego boost,” Devon tried to smile.

She shrugged. “I just….” She sighed. “I'm used to things like that. Not bounty hunters, but being different. Being studied. Being watched and looked at.”

“Of course, you're used to being looked at,” Devon's voice was so low that no one else could hear it. “You're beautiful.”

Her head swiveled toward his, and he smiled, squeezing her hand. She let him keep her fingers wrapped in his, and her mind whirled.

That night, when she was supposed to be sleeping, she crept into Devon's room, closing the door with a click.

He jerked up with a start, his eyes flying open.

“What the…? Sienna?” he said. “Are you all right?” He was stunned that she had escaped the watchful gaze of her Maestros. The one that was supposed to be watching her at night, Devon realized, was likely out cold.

“This is my fault, though,” she said, and he paused.

“What is your fault?”

“Nathaniel being captured. They wanted me. He was bait. It's my fault.”

“Oh, Sienna,” Devon said as he sat up. “They want you for something you can't control. That's not your fault. And Nathaniel knew exactly what he was doing when he took you on.”

“Except, he didn't,” she sat at the edge of his bed. “Desmond made him.”

Devon reached out to brush her hair back. “Everything you are saying is true,” he replied. “But that doesn't make it your fault. It makes you amazing–so amazing and so strong. Creator, if I had a tenth of the power you have….”

“It doesn't make it better,” she answered. “It won't make you better.”

“No,” he managed a smile. “But I would have so much fun while I had it.”

She smirked at that. “You always make me smile.”

“The greatest reward,” he said, as he reached for a sweater. “Are you tired?”

“No,” she said, watching him. “Why?”

“You can see the stars here like no other place,” he replied. “It's like the planet is positioned perfectly. It's beautiful; you should see it.”

“Right now?” she asked, in surprise. “Outside?”

“Usually the place where you see the stars,” Devon answered sarcastically as his feet hit the floor. “Come on.”

“Devon, Nathaniel just got kidnapped, and they are after me. And Reynolds–”

“Sienna,” he grabbed her hand, “all those things are true as well. But you and I…we don't have a lot of time to wait for the safe moments, do we?”

She was taken by his eyes, his smile, and it was all he needed to pull her through the maze of hallways.

It was just as beautiful as he had described. She gasped as she looked up, thousands of stars twinkling above them. She had never seen anything like it–so clear. She was sure that she could see at least three galaxies shining above her.

“Wow,” she said, leaning against Devon as they stood in silence. The door was open, and they were barely outside. It was as dangerous as she was willing to get, and yet, it was worth it.

“What gets me,” he said, putting an arm around her as she shivered, “is seeing all these stars, planets, space, all those worlds out there–so many possibilities. So much life.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

“There are millions of lifeforms up there,” he said. “And each of them living a different life, doing a different thing. There are so many paths, you can't count them. They are anything they want to be.”

It sunk in as she leaned against him.

“And we can't.”

“Not really,” he said softly. “We were born witches so that's what we must be. Unless….”

Her head whipped toward him. “Devon, you aren't thinking about Reynolds' path.”

“No!” he said quickly. She didn't actually think that was the case, but she had to be sure. “No, not at all. Just that there are different paths out there. Where medical treatments aren't timed with missions; where classes aren't streamed into the med bay. And where your Maestro isn't your only family. Can you imagine?”

She couldn't. But staring into his eyes, she saw a glimmer of what could be.

“Maybe,” she said. It was easy to say that, standing just a few meters from her sleeping Maestros, their safe magic still feeding her veins, and Devon's arm around her. She didn't have to imagine being alone, nor did she want to.

“Maybe,” he said with a smile. “Maybe is good enough for me.”

She lay her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes as they stood under the stars for another few moments. Soon, her shivering grew intense, and he brought her back inside, both of their thoughts a million miles away.

“I'm just going to get something to eat,” Sienna said, and Devon kissed her on the cheek as he went to his room. She paused in kitchen, searching through the sack left on the table. She was tempted by the fruit on the table, but knew it would likely end badly.

It was while she was reading the ingredients on a bag of processed food that she saw the communication screen flicker.

A message had come through, and from what she could tell, it wasn't coded. Her fingers paused at opening the bag, knowing that she really shouldn't access a message without her maestros. But curiosity got the better of her, and she hit the screen.

A man's shape filled the screen, his face hidden, and his voice technologically blurred.

I hear that Desmond is in your camp. Bring him to me, for we have much to say. You will be rewarded. His Tiro's strength is too dangerous for him. His best interests are in my heart.

The message cut off, and Sienna felt her heart rate go through the roof. Was that Reynolds, reaching out to Sybil?

She felt her hand start to tremble as she replayed the message. It was too blurred to figure out who it was.

But whoever it was, it was clearly coming from Reynolds' intentions. She would go with Desmond, she knew, and she instantly felt guilty about it.

Would Reynolds want Desmond if she wasn't at his side? Was this going to be a repeat of today? First, one Maestro, and then the other?

Chapter 11