“It is Reynolds,” Sybil said the next morning at the crack of dawn. The first thing she did when she got up was check for messages. “He's afraid of people knowing his identity, but those on the inside know exactly who the messages come from.”
“So, it's time,” Desmond said as he leaned against the small breakfast table. Nathaniel, looking pale, but alert, beside him, leaned forward. “Don't even think about it,” Desmond answered, without looking at his former Tiro. “You can't protect us if you come with us, and you know it right now.”
Nathaniel traded a glance with Sienna who was watching him across the room. She was picking at her food, her anxiety through the roof. Yesterday had clearly shaken her up, and being separated from Nathaniel for an unknown period of time was throwing all those feelings back through her. It had taken her so long to feel useful, to feel wanted and strong as she found her place in the world, especially beside her younger Maestro.
“Besides,” Desmond went on, “if Reynolds sees you, he'll know that something is not right. You are devoted to the magic, Nathaniel. Everyone knows that.”
“And you're not?” Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. Sybil tensed, but said nothing. She felt Desmond's pain every time he mentioned Reynolds. But now, she also felt him longing for times that were past, filled with regret in the way the situation was handled.
“Of course, he is,” Sybil spoke up. “He just doesn't wear it on his sleeve as you do, Nathaniel.”
Nathaniel glanced to her, but dismissed the thought, turning to Sienna. “And you, Tiro? Can you play the part?” he asked evenly.
She cleared her throat. “Yes.”
“And if Reynolds asks?” Desmond said. “What will your reason be?”
“That I no longer wish to be a burden,” she answered. “Acheronian Magic does not require a Maestro-Tiro system, and is fueled by desire, not the burden of protecting the universe.”
A silence fell over the room. Both Nathaniel and Desmond were well aware that Sienna's vocabulary wasn't quite good enough to spontaneously make such a powerful sentence. She had to have been rehearsing it beforehand. And while she could have been preparing for the mission last night, it wasn't like her to be so quick to spout out an answer.
“I see,” Desmond said. “It is a good answer.”
“He will believe it?” she asked, and Desmond nodded.
“Oh yes,” he said. “Reynolds will believe that wholeheartedly.”
Devon was watching her intently, his breath coming short as her words rang true in his heart. Did she mean that? Was she thinking of such a thing?
Because he had the same thoughts, and often. He didn't want to walk another path of magic; it wasn't about the fork in the road. It was about the fact that Laura would be left Tiro-less one day, and the older he got, the closer it would be to the tests. He didn't think he'd make it to the tests, and he didn't want to leave Laura so emptyhanded just days before. Somehow, with the luck he had, he thought that it might be the case.
“Sienna…” Nathaniel opened his arms, and she went forward, giving him a brief hug. But even as she did, she glanced over her shoulder at Devon who raised an eyebrow at her.
Laura nudged her Tiro. ‘What's up?’ she asked through the bond.
‘Nothing,’ Devon managed. ‘Just tired today.’
‘Well, we aren't to present ourselves to Reynolds and swear loyalty today, so relax.’ She was so used to his energy levels and his feelings, so protective of him. It wasn't supposed to be that way. He was supposed to be a support to her, learning and growing.
‘Sure,’ he said, as Desmond summoned Sienna to him.
“Be careful, then,” Nathaniel said, trying not to show his anxiety at the situation. His fingers drummed the table, and Sybil put a hand on his shoulder.
“Have some faith in your Maestro,” Sybil said softly, feeling the tension in the air.
“Of course,” Nathaniel answered as he watched them head to the door.
Sienna gave one last look at Devon, and then followed her Maestro onto the busy street that was already full of noise.
“So many people,” she said as she hurried to keep up with him. He was lost in his own thoughts, and barely remembered to slow his pace for her. “So early.”
“This is a busy planet,” Desmond said. “People here don't have much, and they are struggling to survive.”
She could see that it was true in the clothes and in their hungry faces. She realized she had never wanted for those things, despite all her shortcomings. She may be sick, but she was never hungry, never searching for a place to sleep. She felt guilty for getting so much, when she was so useless to the magical cause.
“Sienna,” Desmond snapped her back to attention, “Reynolds will be relentless in this. His passion is undeniable, and he does not give up, ever. Perhaps if he had given up, perhaps if he had been just a little weaker, we wouldn't be here now.”
“Would he have passed the tests?” Sienna asked.
“Yes, of course,” Desmond replied. “He is very strong. He would have passed with flying colors.”
“Oh,” she said, quietly. “At least there is that.”
Desmond fell quiet again as they walked.
“You always take different ones,” Sienna said. “Christa, Nathaniel, me, Reynolds.”
“I suppose I do that,” Desmond said. “Perhaps I am quicker to see potential in those that others don't.”
“Desmond,” Sienna said, suddenly, stopping in the street. “It hurt you that Reynolds did not take the tests. After all the work.”
“It's not the work, Sienna,” he said quietly. “It's the loss of….” he met her eyes. “It's all right. It was a long time ago.”
“But with me, it will happen again.”
He put hands on both her shoulders.
She expected him to say that it wouldn't, that he would stay with her, and that he wasn't going anywhere until she took those tests. But the words that came out of his mouth were much different.
“But for you, it will be for a different reason–an acceptable reason, that no one will dishonor you for. There is no dishonor in death, nor in the loss of magic outside your control.”
Her heart sunk into her stomach at those words. He saw her eyes widen, and started to move again.
“But any one of us could die tomorrow, Tiro. None of that matters in the moment.”
“It's not just the moment, Desmond. It's the past five years,” she replied, and he raised an eyebrow.
“Tiro, can you handle this?”
“Yes,” she assured him, not wanting to let him down. “Yes.”
“All right,” he said, and they fell into silence as they walked.
Sybil had given them instructions as to where Reynolds would be, but Sienna had a feeling that he wasn't following them. Desmond's mind was closed off, and he was accessing his former bond with Reynolds.
Before she knew it, they came upon a darkened building. Everything about it made Sienna's stomach drop as they drew closer. It felt cold and dead. She had met this kind of magic before, but never in such strong doses.
She drew closer to Desmond as they rang the bell. The buzzer was answered, but no voice came from the other side.
“Maestro Desmond,” he gave his own name, “and his Tiro, Sienna…former Tiro. Former Maestro. Searching for redemption.”
There was a pause, and then the gate buzzed open.
She flickered her wrist, trying to conjure up a protection spell, but Desmond blocked her.
“There will be no more of that kind of magic, Sienna,” he said, and she felt her stomach sink. The way he said the words sounded so real and so final.
The courtyard was dark and cold. Even though it was spring, everything inside was dead. It was as if all nature had been sucked from the surrounding areas. She could hear sounds; people in the buildings around them, but they were alone in the darkness.
The gates closed with a clatter and double locked. She jumped, leaning closer to Desmond.
“It's all right,” he said, as much for her benefit as for those around them, surely listening. “It's all right. We're safe now.”
“Maestro Desmond,” came a voice, and they both spun to the right.
A figure emerged from the shadows, and she squinted into the semi-darkness.
“Terrian,” Desmond answered, facing the young man who was about Nathaniel's age. “I should have known I would find you here. I remember your training, Terrian, you showed such promise.”
“And I should have known you'd come around eventually,” Terrian answered. “The grey line you walk.”
“Is that so?” Desmond answered.
“But such a special Tiro you've brought with you,” Terrian said, turning to Sienna. He surprised her by speaking in Jeffro to her. “We've heard so much about you.”
Desmond instantly put an arm across her, pushing her back. “How did you know to speak to her in Jeffro?” he asked.
Terrian smiled. “We do much research on those coming to us,” he said. “Or those we think we can sway. Come, Reynolds awaits you.”
“Of course,” Desmond said, but his jaw was set. Sienna reached out to him with her mind.
‘He knows so much.’
‘Not now, Little one,’ Desmond answered, and she realized that he was afraid of Reynolds listening. After all, if Desmond could reach out to Reynolds, Reynolds could listen in.
Terrian led them deeper into the courtyard, and then through a series of dark hallways that reminded her of where Sybil had first brought them.
He finally came to a heavily barred door and reached out to the lock with magic that made Sienna ache inside. It was so dark, so strong, and so devoid of anything living.
The door opened, and she could see a chair placed by a roaring fire.
“Enter,” Terrian said. “He's waiting.”
Sienna leaned closer to Desmond as the door latched shut. They stood in silence for a moment, and then the dark figure by the fire stood up and turned around.
“Maestro,” said Reynolds with a half-smile on his face. “I thought you'd never come back to me.”
Desmond felt like his heart shattered at the sight of his Tiro again. Reynolds had a slash across his face, and one eye was light blue, useless. The young, eager boy that had been so passionate and so strong, was now a weathered warrior who stood half-stooped, as if the magic was weighing him down.
“I have come to hear what you propose, Reynolds,” Desmond answered. “Nothing more at the moment.”
“Is that so?” Reynolds answered with a smile as he drew closer. “Yet you bring your Tiro here, when I know she would rather be with her young Maestro–the young hopeful that replaced me. Isn't that the truth?”
“Reynolds,” Desmond said steadily, “I have come to hear your proposal. That is all. Are you going to give it to me?”
“I'll show you instead,” Reynolds said as he moved toward them. “Come with me.”
Sienna said nothing, her eyes wide as they followed him to the windowsill. There, several dead plants littered the ground, making her ache. So much dead nature was not good for witches who drew their very life force from nature itself.
“Resurrection,” Reynolds said as they stood by the plants. “The witches' dreamed of mecca. A world where we can save them all, to give everyone a second chance. That is what you always wanted, isn't it, Desmond?”
“Everyone deserves a second chance,” he echoed. “But that is a common fallacy.”
“Second chances are always possible,” Reynolds answered with a twist of his wrist.
Sienna sucked in a breath. He didn't even focus; didn't even blink. The plants twisted back to life, filling with green and rising toward the sun. It took only moments, as their leaves turned out, and their stems moved upwards.
Both she and Desmond watched in silence, feeling the air.
“Reynolds,” Desmond said, quietly, “that is not life.”
“Of course, it is,” Reynolds answered. “Look at them. Who else do you know who can do that?”
“I can,” Sienna spoke up. “I can bring back the dead.”
Chapter 12
Reynolds looked upon her with a smile that made Desmond uneasy.
“I've heard of your power and your skill,” he said. “But also of your flaws. What happens to you when you bring back the dead?”
Sienna swallowed, looking to Desmond.
“She is sick, Reynolds,” Desmond warned. “It would happen to anyone who has that much power inside her.”
“And whose insides are also raging war,” Reynolds answered. “Your magic is based in nature. Mine is not. I can show you how to bring back the dead this way, and it won't harm you.”
Sienna remembered the little bird fluttering in her arms and the brokenhearted look on Nathaniel's face when Eliza lay limp. Both those times, the resurrection had nearly killed her, and she knew she couldn't sustain it. As well, bringing back the dead had opened up portals to the world beyond theirs, wrecking nature's very order.
“The portals?” she asked quietly, and Reynolds shook his head.
“This isn't Nature,” he assured her. “This won't wreck their plan.”
He twisted his wrist again, bringing even a dead leaf that had fallen to the floor back to its green state. Sienna looked on in shock.
“With your permission, Maestro,” Reynolds answered, and Desmond took a long look at Sienna. If he refused her use of this magic, then Reynolds might become suspicious. After all, weren't they supposed to be here because they possibly thought it was right?
“Carefully,” Desmond said at last. He had no idea how Sienna would react when she experienced Acheronian magic for the first time or whether it would make her sick. He imagined it would; it was still magic, after all. He wasn't sure of the medical facilities around, but he had a feeling that they weren't advanced.
“Here.” Reynolds reached out for her, and Sienna pulled back instinctively. A lifetime of medical intervention meant that she associated most touch with pain. Sensing this, he paused just before touching her. “Use your left hand, not your right. And instead of drawing from around you, draw from inside yourself.”
“Huh?” she looked up at him.
“This is the magic of our ancestors, Sienna,” Reynolds answered. “Not nature.”
She closed her eyes, imitating his wrist movements again and again without flooding magic into it. When she felt like she had finally gotten the flow of it, she reached deep inside her consciousness. She had heard about doing this, about drawing from her belly rather than pulling from nature, but she was never sure if it worked, and she didn't dare try.
The leaves crinkled, and she felt her body tingle. She wavered, but regained her focus as she felt the leaves rise, and she opened her eyes.
They were green.
“It's easy,” she said, and Reynolds smiled.
“Isn't it? And how do you feel?”
Sienna paused, assessing. “Fine,” she said, turning to Desmond. “It's easy.”
“And surely something so easy,” Reynolds said softly, “something that doesn't hurt her–after a lifetime of hurt–isn't wrong.”
Desmond had nothing to say to that as he stood watching Sienna. The color was still in her cheeks, and the normal fading vitals after her use of magic were nowhere to be seen. She was smiling, looking at her hands in awe.
“I think that's enough of a lesson for today,” Reynolds said at last. “Go back to Sybil's hideaway, Desmond. Talk to her and Kierry about what good Acheronian magic has brought them. Come back tomorrow, and we'll talk again. I know how you are. You need time to consider.”
“I will,” Desmond said. “But you should know that Nathaniel is on planet and looking for me. And likely Sienna.”
“Ah, Nathaniel,” Reynolds' eyes sparkled. “I heard he got himself into a spot of trouble.”
“Did you have anything to do with it?” Desmond asked.
“No,” Reynolds said, and Desmond could tell he was telling the truth. “No, that wasn't my doing.”
“Whose was it?”
“I'll never tell,” Reynolds said. “But I'm not the only one who knows how powerful your Tiro is. I just know that I will treat her well. And perhaps make her well.”
“We will be back tomorrow,” Desmond said, drawing Sienna close. Reynolds mocked a bow in the way Tiros were expected to formally do with their Maestro in public. It seemed odd, out of place, and it rubbed Desmond the wrong way.
He was surprised they were allowed to exit so easily and without question. He didn't like the way they were able to walk through the streets freely. From what he could tell, no one was watching them; no one was following them.
“Maestro?” Sienna finally spoke up when they were halfway back to Sybil's place. “What is it?”
“His plan was never me,” Desmond said, turning to her. “I think his plan is you.”
Sienna fell silent, trying to process those words. It was what she was afraid of last night as she looked up at the stars. “And what if he doesn't get me?”
“Reynolds is very determined,” Desmond answered. “He will do what it takes to get your power. But he underestimates not only me and Nathaniel, but also you. He will not have you on his side unless you want to go.”
She searched for the expression he used. “You said it wasn't life,” she replied. “With the plants. What was it?”
“Residual energy,” Desmond said. “Animation.”
She shook her head, unable to understand. She didn't want to reach out with the bond, not trusting her own mind right now.
“Walking dead,” Desmond said, and she understood.
“Appearing alive….”
“But dead inside,” he answered. “An imitation of life. The only thing that can create life is nature, no matter what Reynolds thinks.”
“But I did not feel sick,” she answered. “And now, half an hour later, I am still walking. If I had done that with our magic–”
“I can see that,” he said softly. “And I can see Reynolds thinks his intentions are right. That is what makes this whole case so hard for me.”
“Except,” Sienna pointed out, “we are no longer on a case. We are outcasts until the Jurors decide otherwise. Neither here nor there.”
“Hmm,” Desmond answered.
“How was it? To see him? Was it as you imagined?”
“No,” her Maestro answered honestly. “The boy I trained is no longer. Except in moments, in glimpses.”
“He is powerful,” Sienna said. “Charismatic.”
“Yes,” Desmond agreed. “He would have made a good witch.”
“He might still,” Sienna answered, although she knew that was a far-flung hope.
When they got back to Sybil's hovel, it was quiet. Sybil and Kierry had gone out to the market, looking for supplies. Sienna could feel that Nathaniel was asleep, no doubt sleeping off the poison that had been used to capture him. She searched out Devon and found him on his tablet in the little reading nook.
“Report?” she asked him as she settled on the couch beside him. “Aren't you undercover?”
“Yes, but it's easier to write them now and have them ready when we aren't, than to write them all in one go when we get back,” he said, putting down his tablet with a smile. “You're back safe and sound. How was it?”
“It was….” Sienna searched for the words once again. “It was odd. Strange.”
“That's not the words I would expect someone to use to describe a fallen witch,” Devon said. “Why so?”
“His magic did not make me sick,” Sienna answered. “But more than that, he seemed happy. Content. He had no regrets, and I did not expect that.”
“And Desmond?”
“He's back, too,” Sienna said. “He went to his room. His thoughts are…muddled. It was hard for him, I think.”
“Surely, there is some comfort in seeing that your Tiro is well, even if he took a path that was different.”
“Maybe,” Sienna drew her knees to her chest. “For so long, Devon, I thought there was only one path, and I was failing at it. But now, I see there are other options.”
“Like Reynolds'?”
“I would never walk Reynolds' path,” Sienna answered. “It is unnatural, and I never wanted to be away from nature. I just didn't want to be sick all the time. I just wanted to be strong, for just one moment.”
“When do you feel strong, Sienna?” Devon asked seriously as he took her hand.
“When I'm with you,” she said softly. “When I'm with you and the rest of the world is blocked out.”
“That's strange,” he said quietly. “That's when I feel the strongest as well.”
“Desmond thinks that it's me Reynolds wants,” Sienna said. “It's really me that he's after. And if that's so, then it's two Maestros who have been in danger because of me in two days. I don't know if I can do this.”
Devon saw his chance in that moment, and he took it, speaking boldly. “And if you can't do it?” he asked. “What are the options?”
She looked at him, agape. “What do you mean?”
“If you can't put them in danger,” he said. “And you can't do magic on either path. What are your options?”
“To go away….” she said, before she even realized what she was thinking. “To go away.”
She seemed shocked by the words that had tumbled out of her mouth. But Devon knew they were the truth, fighting to be free.
“We could,” he said, softly. “You and I.”
“Devon...” she said quietly.
“You both know we've been thinking about it for a long while. Unable to fight properly; unable to stand what we are doing to our Maestros. Laura hovers; she takes safe quests. We aren't on the high combat ones anymore, no matter what I tell her I feel. She's afraid, she's cautious, and that's never the person she was before. I hate that I'm doing that to her.”
“Devon, I can't just....”
“But you can,” he said.
“Reynolds did that to Desmond, and it nearly destroyed him,” Sienna said, and Devon squeezed her hand.
“And Desmond survived. You aren't choosing to do horrible, wicked magic. You are stepping away for your health to live out whatever term of life you have left in peace and in restful happiness. There's a big difference. And I promise, I will take care of you.”
“Until you can't,” she said softly.
“Until I can't,” he echoed, staring into her eyes.
She didn't know what to say. She was devoted to her Maestros, not used to being more than a room away from them.
But it was because she was devoted to them that she could entertain this notion. She did not want to cause them pain or any more turmoil than they had already been through. They had been great warriors with a place in history before her. Now, they were exiled because the Jurors were displeased with their choice in her, and Desmond touching Mariah was simply a straw that broke the camel's back.
“I don't know,” she said, although she already did. “I don't know if I can be alone.”
“You won't be alone,” he assured her. “And if there comes a time when you walk this galaxy without me, you know I will always be with you in the magic. Your body may have been betrayed by magic, Sienna, but you trust it. And you know I'll be there.”
“I can't never see them again,” she whimpered, her one condition. But she also knew that she couldn't walk away from Devon again. She loved him; she couldn't deny it. A life without Devon, without taking this opportunity, wasn't something she could face. She would look back and regret this moment if she didn't go with him.
“Once everything blows over,” Devon assured her, “we could see them, and do so often. And they will have other Tiros to heal the wound.”
“Who can pass the tests,” Sienna answered softly. “Who can make them figures in history again.”
“Yes,” Devon brushed back her hair, leaning in to kiss her lightly. “So, Sienna, now that you've seen how people walk a different path and survive, will you walk one with me?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I will.”
Chapter 13
Nathaniel came back to consciousness like he was walking under water. His mouth felt dry, and his head felt fuzzy. He rolled over, his half-conscious brain knowing that he didn't have anywhere to be. The bed was comfortable and warm, the pillows soft. But he felt cold without Eliza's warm body beside him. He was used to reaching out and pulling her close, feeling her smooth body beside him. It was going to be a huge adjustment to go back to the way things were and to go back to being so alone.
He was confused, though, because the feeling of being alone wasn't usually this bad. It was almost as if there was something else missing.
He pushed himself up, trying to make sense of what he was feeling.
The clock read eight a.m., which meant he was officially on duty.
‘Sienna?’ He reached out with his mind. Why didn't he feel her close by?
“Sienna?” he called out verbally, throwing off the covers. A quick glance in the mirror showed tossed hair and a pale face, but he looked better than he did yesterday. He ran a hand through his hair and threw on a shirt, taking a moment to steady himself before he opened the door. He could feel Desmond in the kitchen; that was no problem. Desmond was safe, and he was close by. What was going on? He had felt them both come home last night; there was no issue there.
“Desmond?” He burst into the kitchen. The look on his Maestro's face told him that something was very wrong. “What is it? Where is she?”
“I don't know,” Desmond answered truthfully. “I thought she was with you for a while, and perhaps you were blocking her thoughts to rest. But I realized as soon as you started waking up that you weren't doing that.”
“How can she just be gone?” Nathaniel answered, and then saw Laura's face, hunching over her tablet.
“Laura?” he demanded, and the young, blonde Maestro looked up. “Laura?”
“Devon is gone, too,” she finally answered.
“No,” Nathaniel was quick to speak on this. “Not again. Reach out to him. Call out to him. He always answers you.”
“He did answer me,” she said. “And all he said was goodbye.”
Nathaniel stopped moving. “What does that mean?”
“My guess,” Laura said, “is that Devon, like Sienna, seems to think that they are a burden. And so, they have saved us the heart break.”
“They've run off together,” Nathaniel ran a hand over his face. “Why? Why would they do that? She isn't a burden. She isn't–”
“Yesterday, she saw the pain of a Tiro walking away from their Maestro,” Desmond said quietly. “That may be what pushed her over the edge.”
“By walking away?” Nathaniel stuttered in confusion.
“By not having us face the reality that she can't take the tests,” Desmond said. “Saving us the position of a rock and a hard place.”
“This is ridiculous,” Nathaniel answered. “There are people out there that want her, and they will clearly stop at nothing to get her. Being out there and unable to defend herself–”
“Excuse me,” Laura's eyes flared. “Devon is one of the best warriors in the school right now. Insinuating that he cannot protect her–”
“Sorry, did your Tiro not walk away because he's dying?” Nathaniel shot. Kierry’s mouth fell open. Up until then, he and Sybil had been leaning quietly against the counter. Sybil was so grateful for Kierry's strong presence, not wavering from her side. Now, she felt the shock ripple through her Tiro.
“What's wrong with Devon? He seems fine.”
Laura shook her head. “It doesn't matter, Kierry. The medications keep him fine. He doesn't really feel pain or the effects. He's a warrior until the end.”
“But,” Kierry turned to Sybil, “couldn't that day be today then? Not to be a pessimist, but…”
“Laura,” Nathaniel demanded, “he may not show the warning signs, but you have the reports. Is there a chance it could be soon?”
His Maestro remained tightlipped, looking at the table.
“Laura!” Nathaniel snapped. “I need to know if my Tiro is about to be alone out there.”
“If someone asked you the same question, Nathaniel, how would you respond?” she asked. “Would you be willing to admit it?”
“How long?!” Nathaniel practically roared at her.
Laura sighed. “It could be soon,” she said, her lip quivering. “But it could not be. There's no way to know. He's so strong.”
“Oh, Creator.” Nathaniel ran a hand over his face. “We're doomed.”
Laura let out a choked sob, shoving back from the table. “Not all of us have your name, your reputation, your support,” she sobbed at him. “It's easy for you, Nathaniel. You have a co-Maestro, you have the queen of Jeffro, and you have the reputation of the greatest warrior. Everyone looks up to you. Losing a Tiro just makes you more of a hero. It leaves the rest of us broken.” And with that, she stormed out of the room.
Nathaniel said nothing, but he did slam his fist on the table.
“Of all the irresponsible....”
“Stop,” Desmond said to him sharply. “Stop.”
“What do you mean, stop? We have to find her!” Nathaniel answered.
“Not if she doesn't want to be found,” Desmond said. “When Reynolds left....”
“Desmond, she isn't Reynolds. But she might end up in his clutches, or worse,” Nathaniel said. “She might end up dead.”
“She'll end up dead either way,” Desmond pointed out, and Nathaniel choked.
“Don't talk like that,” he replied. “Just don't. If she wants to walk away, she needs to tell us to our faces. I doubt that she actually does, though. Devon just gets in her head and–”
“Asks her to leave the order?” Desmond replied. “And if Eliza had said the words, would you have not walked away?”
“She would never ask me to do that,” he replied.
“That didn't actually answer the question,” Desmond said. “If she had asked, would you have gone?”
Nathaniel chose not to answer that, closing his eyes. “Sybil,” he said, “can you and Kierry work to see if there are any connections left to Black Caesar? I know he's dead, but clearly, his followers are still alive.”
“I can do that,” Sybil said. “But if you and Desmond go out together in the open looking for Sienna, you will blow the cover of our whole mission.”
Nathaniel couldn't believe that Sybil was even bringing this up.
“My Tiro is missing,” he cried. “She needs multiple medications, she has no protection, and there are two separate groups on this planet alone, who want to capture her. Your mission be damned.”
“Nathaniel, you may not have to answer to the Jurors right now, but I do,” Sybil answered. “We are this close to capturing Reynolds and shutting down this whole operation. Kierry and I have worked for weeks on this, and the future of our order is at stake. You can't just do this. Think it through.”
“How?” Nathaniel was not willing to listen to reason, but Desmond caught his elbow.
“Just think for a moment,” he said calmly.
“Every moment we think, she could be in danger,” Nathaniel answered. “How are we going to do this?”
“Exactly like you are,” Kierry suddenly spoke up. Both their heads swiveled toward the young Tiro.
“What?”
Kierry turned to Sybil who nodded before turning back to them.
“The way you are now, you're fighting. I would think that you are of two different minds,” Kierry said quietly. “So, if you do have to go out together, keep arguing. It makes sense that you are united in finding your Tiro, but for different reasons. Desmond is supposed to want to join Reynolds. Nathaniel is supposed to want to get Sienna to safety and away from Desmond. Can you do that?”
Desmond cleared his throat. “That's not actually a bad plan,” he said. “We can keep up the act in public and not communicate via the bond, except to reach out for Sienna.”
Nathaniel sighed, realizing that it was the best plan of attack.
“Yes,” he said. “We can do that. But first,” he felt the heaviness in his chest lift slightly, “I should apologize to Laura. I didn't mean to scream at her like that. I'm just…I can't lose her, Desmond.”
“You have to be prepared for the possibility that we do,” Desmond answered. “The truth is, I've seen signs like this for a while. I didn't think that she would actually go, but she has said things that made me wonder if she was unhappy.”
“She's not unhappy,” Nathaniel protested. “She thinks we are.”
“Go,” Desmond didn't want to address that. “See if you can speak to Laura without her throwing something at you. I don't think she should come with us, though. If she follows different leads, we will cover more ground.”
“The repercussions for Laura will be heavier,” Sybil said, quietly. “You two are on suspension; the Jurors are not watching what you are doing. But Laura and Devon are on assignment, and he's bolted. There will be a hearing for that, and if the true reasons come out as to why–”
“You are undercover,” Nathaniel said. “The Jurors don't need to know.”
“Maybe they do,” Sybil replied. “It might be a weight off their minds to have some support.”
“I'll talk to her,” Nathaniel said.
Desmond let out a sigh, leaning against the table.
“Are you all right?” Sybil asked cautiously. Questioning a senior Maestro was generally not done, but nothing here was going as planned.
“We survive everything that comes our way,” Desmond answered with a sad smile. “Until we don't.”
“Until we don't,” Sybil answered, placing a hand on Kierry's shoulder. “Come, young one. We have work to do.”
“We should report to Reynolds,” Kierry said. “If he hears about Sienna's disappearance from us, he will think we are still loyal.”
“Good idea,” Sybil said. “Is that all right, Desmond?”
“There's no harm,” Desmond answered. “He'll know either way. Make it believable.”
“Of course,” Sybil winked at him. “I could have been an actor in another life.”
She and Kierry headed to the library, leaving Desmond alone in the kitchen with his thoughts.
Oh, Creator, he thought to himself. He had hoped he would never have to go through this again after Reynolds. If he did, he had hoped he'd be hardened to it. But it was just as painful as the moment he found that Reynolds had walked away. Obviously, the situation was different, but it was the same in a lot of ways.
Even if they found Sienna, he wasn't sure he could go through the rehabilitation again. He wasn't sure he was strong enough to survive, and yet, he knew everyone was counting on him to be the voice of reason.
But reason would not take away the feeling that his heart was going to stop, and his confidence in his ability to continue to serve the order was failing every second.
Chapter 14
“You've had this planned out for a while,” Sienna said when Devon brought them into an abandoned schoolhouse. It was boarded up, but he seemed to know exactly what lock to pick and board to pull.
“Not this, specifically,” he said. “But when we were assigned this quest, I did some pretty intense research to find potential safe houses, in case we needed to run for it.”
“So, wouldn't Laura know where we are going then?” she asked.
“No. I was last minute about it, so I never shared the document with her. I figured if it came to it, we'd be together anyway. But we're not.” He flicked his wrist, illuminating the place.
It was dirty and damp, but it was safe, and there wasn't any evidence that anyone had been inside for weeks, at least. Sienna tried not to wrinkle her nose as she stepped over a dead mouse.
“But just for tonight?”
“Just for tonight,” he said. “Until I can book us passage out of here. I was thinking maybe Taurine?”
“Taurine sounds beautiful,” she echoed, knowing it was a desert planet and a tourist attraction. The main city was where people went for vacation, to get away from the Order, to get away from all that was governed and regulated. It was dangerous, but they were living a different life now, after all. “But where did you get the money?”
“I saved,” he replied. “Quest allowance – literally credits I found on the street. It should get us out and onto a new life. We'll have to work, but….” he smiled. “Work. Get jobs. Can you imagine? What do you want to be?”
Sienna paused at that. She had never wanted to be anything but a witch, mostly because the opportunity was not presented to her. She thought her choices in life were witch or a half-life, where she watched the witches.
“I…,” she thought for a moment. “Language. A translator, maybe?”
“A translator?” Devon smiled at her and her accent.
“It's just Basic that is hard,” she explained to him. “It's so different.”
“Well, I understand you just fine,” he answered, as he sat down on a clean spot on the floor.
“Are you all right?” Sienna asked. He shrugged with a smile.
“Sure. It's just the first time I've gotten to relax since we've got here.”
She settled down beside him, and he tucked an arm around her. She lay her head on his shoulder. She had imagined this moment many times, and she expected it to feel perfect. Instead, it felt half-empty.
“I miss them,” she said. “I know this is the right path, but it feels…I don't know. I'm used to them being around.”
“I imagine the feeling will fade,” Devon said. “And once everything settles down, we will visit. It will be all right.”
“What about you?” she asked, and he looked at her, confused.
“What about me what?”
“What do you want to be?” she asked. “Since we are embarking on this new adventure?”
“Oh….” He fiddled with the dirt on the ground. “I just want to relax.”
“Relax?” she said in surprise. “That's not like you.”
“It's fine,” he said. “My whole life has been chaos.”
“Devon, why don't you have a career choice?” she asked suspiciously. “You're the one who led us on this adventure. You should have a plan. Unless....”
He grabbed her hands. “It's fine, Sienna. Enjoy the moment.”
“Unless you don't think you have time,” she may have been sheltered, but she was smart. “Devon?”
“None of us know how much time we have,” he answered, which sent chills down her spine. “Can't we just enjoy the night, Sienna? Let's have a picnic. Here,” he reached for their rucksacks, and she knew that she didn't want to talk about it. But her stomach sank in fear as he tore open the food.
She had trusted him and come this far. Was she about to be on her own?
It wasn't exactly the way that she had planned their grand escape. If she was honest with herself as she lay on the cold floor, searching for sleep, she hadn't exactly planned it at all. Devon's plan had sounded wonderful, and she knew it would erase the burden that she felt on her chest as of late. But the night was cold, and she had never been cold without a remedy. She was used to being attached to her Maestros, to them protecting her, taking care of her, and making everything better. The life she had known before them was a life of tubes and hospitals; the life with them was a careful and well-planned strategy.
This made her feel more alone than ever.
She must have fallen asleep because it was somewhere near dawn that she awoke, her eyes flying open to an unfamiliar sound.
She rolled over, her shoulder crunching a bit of rock, and her senses suddenly on alert.
She didn't carry a weapon, and her magic–while powerful–wouldn't last more than a blast or two. If she was with her Maestros, she would have backed up into them, looking for support or instructions.
It took only a nanosecond to feel alone as she looked for the threat.
The threat, as it appeared, was Devon leaning into a corner and emptying the contents of his stomach onto the ground.
“Devon!” she scrambled up, the sleep leaving her quickly as she ran over to him. It didn't disgust her; she had grown up in a hospital. But she was incredibly concerned as she put her hands on his waist to support him as he finished.
“It's all right,” he tried to reassure her as he wiped his mouth. “It's all right.”
“Never in the history of ever has that been something that is all right,” she answered, confused. “What's going on?”
“I….” He crouched down as his legs shook, trying to steady himself. “Just hold on a moment.”
She knew she shouldn't, but she sent a ping into his system, checking the strength of his life force. Devon's life force had been weak since she met him; she was used to it. She knew that his body was raging war within him. However, the ping came back weaker than usual, and she felt differences from it. It was as if the war was more prominent, the broken and malformed blood cells clearer in her mind.
“What do you need?” she asked.
He took a deep breath. “I didn't grab much from the medication supply when we left,” he replied. “Grabbing more than a night's supply would alert Laura to exactly how long I intend to travel before we reached a proper medical base. She's smart like that. I thought I could get through a day or two without them.”
“But you can't,” she filled in the gaps. “I didn't realize you needed them that frequently.”
“Didn't used to,” he gasped, and she realized he was in pain. She eased him down against the wall, trying to think about the best thing to do. She wished that she could fix things for him, but she wasn't that powerful. Unless, she realized, she was.
“If I can resurrect, don't you think I can heal?” she asked him quietly. “Most of the healing magic these days is from trauma, but I'm special. We could try.”
“No!” He was firm on this. “I've seen what happens when you use magic, Sienna, and I don't want you to go through that. We have to figure out another way to do things.”
“It's not like there are multiple options, Devon.”
He paused. “There might be.”
She gave him a sideways glance. “What?” she asked, at last.
He took a deep breath, unsure if she would believe him. “When Laura and I were with Reynolds, he showed us his medical facility. He has rebels from all over the world–the best of the best. It may very well be that he has something that could help us. Both of us.”
“Willingly go to Reynolds?” Sienna asked in horror. “No! We can't do that.”
“Not even if it will save our lives?”
“Devon,” Sienna said in horror, “you told me you weren't considering–”
“I'm not considering his form of magic, or ours, or anyone's,” Devon sputtered. “I just want to be well, Sienna. I just want to live. Don't you want that as well?”
Their eyes met, and she knew that he could see into her soul. They wanted the same things, and she could see that now. He had a lot more courage than she did. She just had to be a little braver, than she was afraid.
“All right,” she said at last, trying to swallow her fear. “Should we go now? Can you make it?”
“I'm worried I won't make it if we don't at least try,” he said. “Can you gather up the things? Are you feeling well?”
“Better than you,” she said, before her head was suddenly invaded.
‘Sienna!’
Her Maestro's cry made her stop. It was instinct to answer, but she knew that she couldn't. If she did, she would give away their position. They had to stop worrying about her. They had to be warriors again, not caretakers. It was for the good of the universe.
‘Sienna, please tell me you're all right.’ Nathaniel's voice was strong, and she closed her eyes, fighting to block it out. ‘Just tell me you're all right,’ he pleaded.
She wanted to, but she would be lying. She was terrified, and she had never known less what was the right choice, than right now.
Eventually, his call stopped, and she was able to continue, picking up their sacks and erasing any evidence that they had been there. She had done this often enough on quests, covering their tracks. It felt wrong now to be going through those motions.
“All right,” she said after a few moments. “No one will know we were here now. I can cast a coverage spell, but–”
“I'll do it,” Devon said, already flicking his wrists. She watched with envy as his magic covered the ground. Despite the fact that he was pale and his eyes were weary, the spell didn't make him look any worse. It didn't rob him of health or attack him from the inside out. He was built to be a witch; he just wasn't built to live.
She wasn't sure exactly what she was built to be, but she had a feeling it wasn't either of those things.
“Let's go,” she said, and Devon gingerly picked up his pack. “Do you know the way? I'm turned around.”
“I do,” he said. “I'm just trying to consider what's best. Should we take the back alleys and have no witnesses if something happens? Or should we be out in the open where we could be spotted, but an attack on us is less likely to happen?”
“Black Caesar,” she said. “You're worried about him.”
“Partially,” he said. “I was also thinking that if I don't make it, if I need help….”
“You have help,” she said, raising her chin. “You have me. It's going to be all right.”
He smiled painfully at her. “That's my girl,” he said. “Come on, then, we should get started.”
He held out his arm, and she took it, gripping for strength and confidence. They were going to make it, because they had no other choice.
Chapter 15
“Nothing,” Nathaniel said, sleepless at dawn as he tried yet again to ping Sienna. He and Desmond had searched what felt like half the planet, just trying to feel any traces of her magic. Normal Tiros could not block out their Maestros as she could. But Sienna was anything but a normal Tiro. It was times like this that they were reminded of just how powerful she was. “I can't keep trying and getting no response. It's–”
“I know,” Desmond had been silent through most of this, and Nathaniel realized that it was more than just Sienna missing that weighed heavily on his mind.
“This isn't like Reynolds,” he said, softly. “This isn't the same.”
“Isn't it?” Desmond said dryly. “I don't even know why we are looking, Nathaniel, if she doesn't want to be found.”
“Desmond, she could be captured! She could be in danger! She could be hurt, or–”
“Tiro,” Desmond met his eyes, “she may be blocking out your words, but you and I would both know if she was hurt or in danger, wouldn't we? We would feel that in the air, feel it as if it was our pain.”
Nathaniel faltered. “Maybe….”
Desmond shook his head with a small smirk. “Maybe?”
Nathaniel tried to search for different words. “All right, quite possibly. But just because she's not in danger this moment doesn't meant that she won't be shortly. You know how many people are after her.”
“The Jurors would tell us to abandon this case,” Desmond said quietly. “A Tiro who leaves on their own is not be pursued. I would know.”
“The Jurors be damned!” Nathaniel cried, and Desmond raised an eyebrow.
“Well, that's just it, isn't it Nathaniel?”
Nathaniel stopped, confused. “What?”
Desmond took a deep breath. “The Jurors be damned is pretty much how we've been operating since we got her, isn't it?”
Nathaniel fell quiet as he realized his former Maestro's point. “No,” he said at last. “We've–”
“If you're going to say we've taken their advice, that's laughable, because we've done nothing of the sort. From the moment she walked into our lives, we chose a path that was inadvisable. I,” he corrected himself, “chose a path that was inadvisable for both of us, and you came to bond with her the same as I. We have valiantly denied every suggestion and request they had, sealed her files, chosen paths for educations and quests that they haven't approved, only because Maestros have rights over their Tiros.”
“It's always worked out well for you before.” Nathaniel said, trying to reassure his former maestro. “I'm here only because you fought for me. And Christa.”
“But not Reynolds,” Desmond pointed out. “I failed at my very first attempt, and it appears that is coming back to haunt me. I damned the Jurors with Mariah, and look where it's gotten us.”
“You cannot shoulder this whole burden on yourself, Maestro,” Nathaniel said softly. “Sometimes, fate lays different cards for us, and nature has a whole different path.”
“I highly doubt nature intended us to take this path.”
“What are you saying?” Nathaniel asked. “When we find her....”
“If we find her, and she wants to return, I imagine things will be different,” Desmond said. “For all of us.”
“They won't be.” Nathaniel held his chin high. “I will not abandon her.”
Desmond said nothing to that, and Nathaniel could feel his very spirit torn.
They walked in silence for a few minutes until the younger Maestro spoke. “I have an idea,” he said. “If Black Caesar's followers are looking for her, they might have a better grasp on where she is than we do. And if they do, perhaps they can lead us right to her.”
“How?” Desmond asked. Nathaniel cocked his head with a slight smile.
“You can't do imitation magic? Using the bond?”
Desmond rolled his eyes. “I can do intimidation magic just fine, young one. But in case you haven't noticed in the past few years, our Tiro has an incredibly unique magical signature. Imitating her would not be easy.”
“Nothing worthwhile is easy,” Nathaniel answered with a smile. “Isn't that what you taught me?”
“And I'm regretting it every day,” Desmond said pausing by a tree. The easiest place to do any kind of magic was standing by nature, ready to draw from its support. “You want me to start?”
“I thought you couldn't do it?” Nathaniel teased him, always trying to find the humor in any situation. Desmond reached out to the tree, taking a moment to refuel himself.
“I didn't say I couldn't do it,” he said. “I just wasn't sure I could create a good enough signature for them to be fooled. We don't want them to know we are on to them.”
“After you killed the minions who tied me up?” Nathaniel asked. “I think they have a pretty good idea that we're onto them. Now....”
Both of them fell silent as they drew the energy to continue. Nathaniel found it easier to work on creating a magical signature that would be hers if she was well. Using his usual attention to detail, Desmond began to trim and cut pieces out of it, creating the powerful and yet broken line that she always left behind.
When they were ready, they both pushed their palms forward, leaving a scar in the atmosphere.
“Do you think that will do it?” Nathaniel asked.
“It will have to,” Desmond said. “If we continue to leave those every few feet, I'm sure it will attract them, even if they aren't sure it's her. It's the best we can do for now.”
“I wish I was bonded to Laura. I would check in with her,” Nathaniel said. “I used to be able to push some thoughts through, but not at this distance.”
“I'm sure that Laura is moving along just fine,” Desmond said. “You have to remember, Devon is still answering her. He's not as removed as Sienna.”
“Sienna isn't answering because she's scared,” Nathaniel assured him. “We'll find her.”
“I hope so,” Desmond replied, biting back another comment. He knew that his Tiro hadn't run to Reynolds' side, but he couldn't help but remember what had happened when he had found Reynolds. This was a trip down memory lane that he did not want to take.
Meanwhile, Laura was on the other side of the city, and true to Desmond's word, she was moving along just fine. Devon's choice to answer her had made him easier to trace, and she came upon the warehouse where they had spent the night.
It was wiped clean, but she had expected that. She had taught him well, although she never thought that he would now be using it against her. It was hurtful, but at the same time, she understood. She didn't want Devon to be in pain; no parent would want that for their child. She just wished that he had chosen a better way to do it or, at least, a better place than a planet with a girl that everyone wanted to capture.
She paused when she got to the corner of the warehouse, her nose wrinkling. They may have wiped away all magical traces of their presence, but they hadn't quite cleaned up after themselves.
He was getting sick exactly when she knew he would, based on the medication that he had taken with him. Devon liked to think he was invincible, which annoyed her to no end some days. But today, it verified her thoughts that he was here.
“But where did you go from here, my dear?” she asked, closing her eyes. ‘Devon.’
She didn't expect him to answer; that would be too obvious. Instead, she followed her instincts out the door and onto the busy street. The warehouse was at the edge of the market district, and the market was already bustling with people. She paused, trying to think like Devon.
He would choose the busiest path with the most witnesses if he didn't want to be captured.
Laura approached the market stalls cautiously, watching for anything out of place. She didn't want to stand out, and so she moved from stall to stall as if she was carefully considering each of her purchases. She picked up some fruit, and then a dress, looking at each detail, while reaching out with her magical senses, trying to pick up their trail.
“Can I help you?” someone said to her, and she looked up. There was a shopkeeper standing there, his eyes ablaze as he saw her. He was clearly taking in her well-made clothing and strong form and assuming she had money. “Special deal on that today.”
“Oh,” Laura said, trying to think about how she was going to play this. Normally, she and Devon had a well-thought-out plan for any situation. But this wasn't exactly something she expected in any scenario. “I would. It's just…I've given my siblings the money, and they took off this morning, looking for their own purchases.” She didn't look old enough to be Devon's mother, but he and Sienna looked humanoid, and she was hoping that the pink-skinned alien with three eyes in front of her wouldn't be able to distinguish just how different they all were. “Maybe you've seen them?”
“Maybe?” the shopkeeper said. “What do they look like?”
“Boy and girl, about this tall, almost adult,” she said. “Stayed up all night, so probably a bit tired and dazed. Rascals, they are. Would they have walked through here?”
He paused so long that she was afraid he had drifted into some sort of trance. He closed his eyes, humming, and Laura was about to ask again when his eyes suddenly snapped open. “Yes,” he said. “Yes. I did see them.”
“Where did you see them? When did you see them?” She leaned forward a little too eagerly, and the shopkeeper narrowed his eyes.
“How do I know that you want them for good intentions?”
“What?” Laura asked.
“There's a lot of souls on this planet hunting others for bad reasons,” the shopkeeper said. “How do I know you aren't one of them?”
“They are family!” Laura cried, hoping she sounded believable. They were, after all, in a way. Devon was the closest thing she would ever have to family. The Tiros after him would live up to his example, which she hoped was going to include a happy ending. “Please.”
Apparently, she was convincing enough, because the shopkeeper pointed down the crowded lane.
“I saw a couple who could be them, going that way. But....”
“But?” Laura asked, confused.
“Don't think it was them.”
“Why not?” she replied.
“Because you said they are siblings, right? Not sure how you humanoids do it, but I saw them kissing over there by that tree.”
“That's them,” Laura said, turning on her heel and leaving the shopkeeper incredibly confused as she began to follow the path, sending out magical pings.
She suddenly stopped as one of her pings was returned.
“Devon?” she asked to the crowd around her. Her pings came back at her full force as she heard a scream at the far end of the street.
There was a magical explosion that she recognized as Devon's signature, and then more screaming. People began running in all directions, and a black cloud formed over the spot of Devon's last known whereabouts. Laura moved forward as quickly as she could, dodging beings as she tried to make her way there. Her eyes did not deceive her as the cloud took shape. That was Black Caesar's mark: strong and menacing.
And when she reached the spot where she knew they had been, she found nothing. They were gone.
Chapter 16
“Did you feel that?” Nathaniel's head shot up like he had been smacked, his ears alert. Desmond didn't have to respond to know that they were both feeling the same thing. It would have taken both of them being blind and deaf to not feel Sienna's sudden panic go through the air. She had dropped all her barriers, which meant it wasn't going to be hard for them to find her if they focused. What worried him was why she had dropped her barriers. “What could have happened?”
Desmond closed his eyes, preferring to find his strength in silence rather than in noise. He reached out through the bond, following it hand over hand in his mind.
“The warehouse,” he said. “The warehouse where we found you. That's where she is.”
Nathaniel tensed. “That's at least five miles from here.”
“Then move,” Desmond said, and they both took off. They hadn't had to run like this since they were warriors in the field, ten years younger and defending a planet.
Had someone told Nathaniel ten years ago what he would be doing now, he would not have believed them. He would have thought it was rubbish to live such a life, balancing precariously on the grey line that they all seemed to walk. He had imagined himself a Grand Maestro by now, one of the Jurors perhaps, with a Tiro, who was leading wars. He had never imagined the Jurors would exile him because of the crimes of his former Maestro.
And yet, he also knew that he'd never separate from Desmond, never leave Eliza. So, what did he expect?
“Can you feel who it is?” Nathaniel asked Desmond. “Can you see through her eyes?”
“No,” Desmond said as they ran. Their breath was now haggard, but their stamina was unmatchable. “She's afraid, though.”
“She's not hurt,” Nathaniel said, after a moment.
“No,” Desmond replied. “But then, anyone who wants her wouldn't damage a hair on her head for fear of damaging her precious magic.”
“At least there's that,” Nathaniel said, drearily.
On the other side of the town, Laura was moving at a similar pace. Devon had finally let her lock onto his presence, and she ran without thinking, guided by the magic.
Her booted feet were smacking the ground with rhythm, and she locked onto a communication channel, hoping Devon had the presence of mind to answer.
‘Are you hurt?’
‘I need meds.’
She nearly stopped at that. ‘I don't have them, Devon.’
‘That's what I need. This is my fault. Help.’
She decided her best bet was to continue forward, moving so quickly that she became a blur to any passerby. If she stopped to even breathe, she knew that she wouldn't be able to make it.
‘Who is it?’
‘Followers of Black Caesar.’
‘Well, damn.’
Her answer elicited a laugh from him – broken, but a laugh nonetheless.
‘Are you coming?’
‘Obviously, Devon, I would never leave you.’
His thoughts fell quiet, but he remained there as if he was silently in the room, but saying nothing. She knew if she pushed, she could see through his eyes. But she didn't want to distract him if he was in physical danger. She imagined that they had taken Devon because he was with Sienna, who was the ultimate prize. She just hoped that they didn't see her Tiro as disposable.
Approaching the warehouse from the left, she sucked in a breath as she realized that the last time they were here was when they rescued Nathaniel. They had been so powerful then–so strong and so ready to take on anything. With Devon at her side, nothing could possibly go wrong. She had felt no fear as they approached the warehouse last time. Now, everything was on the line.
“Laura,” came a voice, and she jumped about five feet in the air as someone grabbed her shoulder. It was Nathaniel, standing there, panting. Desmond was at his side, and both their faces were dark.
“I take it you got the message via Tiro 911?” she asked.
“Is Devon with her?” Nathaniel asked, and she felt frost in his voice. They couldn't possibly blame her for this, could they?
But the feelings between them had clearly cooled.
“He is,” she said. “And he's about to go through withdrawal, which could bring their danger level to a whole new tier if we don't do something.”
“Any idea as to their attackers?” Desmond asked.
“Followers of Black Caesar,” Laura replied. “Which should come as no surprise”
“Then there is no time to spare...” Desmond started, and then suddenly froze.
“Maestro?” Nathaniel asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. Desmond's head turned eerily to the left as he spun on his heel.
“Get down,” he said, his voice hardly above a whisper. “And get down slowly.”
They lowered to the ground, almost by instinct.
“Maestro?” Nathaniel repeated, confused. “What is it?”
“Who is it?” Desmond corrected him, pointing his finger across the lawn. Nathaniel followed his gaze, and then his eyes widened. Crossing the grass with a long, black cloak, his head held high, and followed by a league of minions, was Reynolds.
He moved like a king who no one had ever challenged. His magic was dancing at his fingertips, his eyes were ablaze, and his confidence clear.
In a lot of ways, he looked like a powerful, successful Maestro. A witch who should have risen to the top.
He had risen to the top, Nathaniel realized. Except it wasn't the way he was supposed to.
“Oh boy,” Laura said as she watched him enter the warehouse. “Do you think he's been in league with Black Caesar this whole time?”
“No,” Desmond answered. “I think he heard that they have Sienna, and he wants her for himself. He will either offer them something they can't refuse, or he will kill them all. That's Reynolds' way. If he can't have it, nobody can.”
“Not exactly the best deal,” Nathaniel said as he watched the minions enter the building. The door slammed shut behind them. “Maestro?” he said at Desmond's trance-like gaze. “Are you all right?”
Desmond took a deep breath. “Yes,” he said, but Nathaniel could tell that he was not.
“Stay here, Maestro,” Nathaniel said. “Let Laura and I go in and work this out. It will be all right.”
“Don't be absurd,” Desmond said. “You need as much support as you can get. There are two different sides in there, and both of them threaten our Tiro.”
“Yes,” Nathaniel said. “But Reynolds is in there, and you know that if we defeat him, we have to bring him to justice.”
“Nathaniel,” Desmond focused on the ground for a long time before taking a deep breath, “do not underestimate my ability to judge right from wrong. There was a time when I thought I could save Reynolds. And maybe–just maybe–I still can. But saving him does not involve letting him escape the Jurors. He must answer for what he's done. And when he's sees there is no other way out, he will decide there is another path for him.”
‘You don't have to do this,’ Nathaniel told his Maestro, who smiled sadly.
‘But I do. For all of us.’
Nathaniel had never been so unsure of Desmond in his life. He knew that his former Maestro would try to do the right thing; to stay strong. But when it came to looking Reynolds in the eye, he wasn't sure that Desmond would be able to follow through.
Expressing doubt about one's Maestro was such a faux pas that Nathaniel didn't even dare speak anymore. He simply nodded as he stood up. Laura rose at his side, her eyes trained on the building.
“Shall we move like last time?” she asked. “Each of us take a side, take them by surprise.”
“Last time, there were more of us,” Nathaniel pointed out. “I don't know about Devon, but Sienna is not in any physical distress. Sybil and Kierry are not far away. Maybe we could wait for them to arrive.”
“No,” Laura said. “Devon is in physical distress. In addition, Sybil and Kierry are known to Reynolds. He would have them watched. If he received information that they were on the way, he would know that this entire quest was undercover.”
“Let me go in alone,” Desmond said, surprising both of them.
“Are you out of your mind?” Nathaniel asked him, turning to him in shock.
“Quite possibly,” Desmond replied. “But if I go in alone, Reynolds might not see a threat. He knows that I am close to Sienna. He thinks we were considering his side. Let me go in alone.”
“Remain connected with me,” Nathaniel said, and Desmond's eyes flashed.
“I can't,” he said. “Reynolds will be looking for that. He knows me well.”
“You're still bonded to him,” Nathaniel said in shock.
“Only in the way that I will always bonded to you and to Christa,” Desmond answered. “But if I am sending information your way, he will know. You have to trust me, Nathaniel.” He put his hand on the younger Maestro's shoulder, and Nathaniel met his eyes.
“Of course, I trust you, Maestro. But–”
“Then let me go,” Desmond said, and turned, not giving Nathaniel a chance to answer.
There were a thousand things that Nathaniel wanted to say in that moment. Most of them involved stopping Desmond, calling out any manner of ridiculous things. He thought about calling Desmond senile, or perhaps questioning his commitment to the Jurors.
But he didn't do any of them, watching helplessly as his Maestro approached the empty building.
“This is crazy,” Laura said as she watched. “We should help. We should be in there. We have to go in!”
“He's gone to try and rescue his Tiro,” Nathaniel said softly, and then it came to him. “As we were trying to do all night. As, I imagine, that you and I will always do for Sienna and Devon, no matter what the circumstances.”
“Of course,” Laura replied. And then it dawned on her as well. “Oh. Do you think that Reynolds will actually hurt him?”
“I don't know,” Nathaniel said. “I don't know what Reynolds' view has deteriorated to, to be honest. But the first sign of trouble, Desmond be damned, I will go in there.”
“Well, at least you have a plan,” Laura said as she crouched down. Her muscles were tense, and she was ready to storm the warehouse at any given moment.
Desmond walked slowly, as if he was walking to his death. His mind was clouded with thousands of thoughts, and he could barely form words.
'Reynolds' was the only clear word in his mind as he crossed the lawn. He had imagined this moment again and again over the years. Was it too late? Where had he gone wrong? Was Reynolds just predisposed to go this way? Or could Desmond guide his hand, even now?
He paused at the door, his palm open on it. Witches wanted nothing but peace; they were supposed to be the guardians of the galaxy. They were not supposed to bringing more turmoil into it.
A part of Desmond also wondered if he was making the second mistake twice. Was he forcing Sienna into a path that she shouldn't be walking on? Whether or not Reynolds' path was right for her wasn't the issue; it was whether she should be trying to do something that she had dreamed about, but could likely never accomplish.
Was he killing two Tiros in one swift motion?
He pulled open the door with his magic, letting both of them know he was coming in.
Chapter 17
Sienna was too frightened to call out, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Desmond at the door. Desmond was here now; he would fix everything.
She and Devon were strung up much the way Nathaniel had been, and Black Caesar's followers circled them. She could feel them conquering a kind of magic that made her chest feel like it was going to collapse.
Black Caesar had believed in cleaning up the streets and destroying witches. It was more than returning to nature; it was obliterating them from the world. Sienna had pushed a protection spell around her and the rapidly fading Devon, but she wasn't sure she could hold it forever.
Reynolds stood at the edge of the warehouse, his eyes blazing as he reached out his hand. To Sienna's surprise, he had been trying to stop their magic and save them. She had no idea why he would want to do that.
Everything stopped when Desmond entered the room, however.
Reynolds laughed–a laugh that had no humor in it whatsoever.
“Maestro,” he said, spinning around, “come to join our party?”
“If that's what you want to call it,” Desmond said calmly as he strolled toward them. He glanced up to Sienna, and the Black Caesar drones spun around, temporarily pausing their own spell to watch this newcomer. He met Sienna's eyes and nodded.
She used to be so in tune with Desmond. She used to know everything that he wanted, everything he was thinking of. But right now, she had no idea what side he was going to take.
“Tiro, retract your magic. You will make yourself sick,” he said.
“But Maestro–”
“Obey,” he simply said, and she dropped the spell. Desmond then turned to the followers, his eyes ablaze.
“Sienna is my Tiro,” he said. “And if you want her, you will answer to me.”
It appeared that part of their brains had been melted, at least by their answer. One sneered, and the other crouched, as if ready to attack. She had seen their style of fighting when they had captured Nathaniel. They weren't particularly smart. Desmond might be able to do it on his own.
“And I don't think you want to do that,” Reynolds said, indicating his own minions.
Desmond glanced to Reynolds casually. “I am starting to think that your interest is purely for my Tiro and not for me,” he said to Reynolds, which distracted the former witch.
“You always were a bit of a wild card, Maestro,” Reynolds answered. “And you always knew how to read me. Who wouldn't want the power of your Tiro on their side? She's a jewel!”
“With a flaw,” Desmond answered. “She cannot sustain her own power. It will destroy her.”
“Unless I teach her how to do it my way,” Reynolds said with a sneer. “That didn't make her sick.”
“It didn't,” Desmond said softly. “And that is a blessing, at least.”
Sienna's jaw dropped. “Maestro!” she cried.
Desmond held his hand out to silence her. “It's a blessing,” he said, “because now she sees there are other paths for her, whatever she chooses. But this one, here, and now,” he glanced to Sienna and Devon, “is not the one. I think. Help me, Reynolds, to destroy this enemy, and we can both walk away from here.”
Reynolds sneered. “Not a chance, Desmond. I know what you want. In your head, I will see the error of my ways and return to the Jurors. I will grovel, and they will forgive me, and all will be well. Maybe I could even take the tests and become a witch with a Tiro of my own.”
“No,” Desmond was firm on that. “That is not what will happen. They will throw you in prison, Reynolds–perhaps for life, perhaps execute you. But in that time, in those moments of darkness, perhaps you will see the dawn and be at peace.”
“Will you let them do that to me?” Reynolds asked. Desmond sucked in a breath, not expecting such a statement to affect him so much. Reynolds sounded so young when he said it that way–so helpless.
“I…,” Desmond said, visibly torn.
“Maestro!” Sienna's cry came as Devon's head dropped. His limp body slumped forward. “Please.”
“Let the boy go,” Desmond said. “He's no use to you. He's dying. He's got no power of significance.”
“But we can heal all,” Reynolds reminded him. “Even death. Even death.” He displayed his power in one powerful blast that made Desmond jump.
Reynolds had barely looked in the direction of Black Caesar's followers, and yet he blew them to pieces. Debris, blood, and limbs were spraying, and Sienna screamed, whimpering as she was treated to a face full of alien innards. She was shaking, her arms suspended and aching.
“Maestro,” she sobbed. “Please. Please!”
Desmond's heart nearly shattered. “Reynolds, let her go! She's only a child,” he said.
“Ha,” Reynolds answered. “I was only a child, Desmond, when the witches ripped me away from my family and forced me to train for a cause I didn't believe in. And now I walk the wrong path according to whom? To you! That's all.”
“Reynolds,” Desmond said, but Reynolds wasn't done. Years of hurt and pain were pouring out as Reynolds spoke.
“All those years, Desmond…wasted! Wasted! And had you not been so blinded by your hope, by your dreams–even by Mariah, for Creator sake–I could have had a real life. A family!”
Reynolds' voice broke, and Desmond gently spoke.
“Did we not create a real life for you?” he asked. “Mariah and I? Did we not go against what the Jurors told us to do to create a life for you that was stable and caring? We were your family, Reynolds. We supported you every step of the way. It is not too late–”
“It is too late!” Reynolds screamed, and pushed magic forward.
Sienna screamed as a blast of magic hit Desmond in the chest, throwing him against the wall. It wasn't a lethal blow, but she had clearly seen that Reynolds could do that in half a second if he wanted to.
“The power you have is not real power,” Reynolds said to his fallen Maestro as he stalked toward Sienna. “I will show you real power. I will show you real strength.”
With what seemed a simple flick of his wrist, he cut both of their chains. Sienna had the advantage because she was conscious and fell to her feet. Devon, however, was unconscious, and slammed onto the floor, his head hitting the hard concrete.
Sienna heard the crack and felt his life force leave him.
“No!” she rushed toward him. The blood pooled from his head, and his eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling. “No, no, no, no!”
“It's okay, Sienna,” Reynolds said in a false soothing voice that sent shivers up her spine. “It's okay. We can bring him back. It's easy.”
She hovered protectively over Devon's body, her arms trembling.
Desmond was slowly dragging himself back to life on the other side of the warehouse. She wanted Nathaniel, and she wanted help.
But she was alone for the moment. She had never been alone like this, never been so helpless.
And yet, never been so powerful.
“Don't,” she said, her hands swelling with magic. “Don't touch him. I don't want your magic. I don't want your ways.”
“Do you want to sicken and die like him?” Reynolds asked. “Your boyfriend is dependent on everyone around him, every chemical and treatment. For you, it's manageable. I can show you a way to live, Sienna. I can show you true power; power that you were meant to have.”
She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “No.”
“Wouldn't you like to be free?” he asked her. “Wouldn't you like to not be such a burden on the Maestros that you have ruined? Warriors who will never again reach their peak? Come with me and be free.”
‘Nathaniel,’ she cried out through her bond as Desmond fell to the floor again. ‘Nathaniel, please!’
But Reynolds reached out, and she knew that even if Nathaniel was outside the door, she had no time.
She had to get rid of Reynolds. But resurrection magic took all her power, or it used to.
There was more power inside of her than she knew. And it came not from her, but from nature and from the support of her Maestros.
They had come for her; they had put everything on the line to rescue her time and time again. Now, she was going to do the same.
Channeling was something Sienna wasn't good at it, but skill didn't matter in this moment. Sheer willpower did, and blind trust in nature did.
The rocks around her began to tremble. The earth, mostly dry, began to rise with every tiny speck of living organism that was growing in it. Bugs, plants, everything. Even the trees outside began to tremble as she channeled the power around her.
“Sienna, don't!” Desmond managed, seeing what she was doing. “You aren't strong enough.”
“Maybe once,” she said quietly. “Maybe just once, Maestro, because I love him.”
Desmond could barely describe what happened in the next few moments. Sienna pushed her left hand forward and put her right hand on Devon. There was a giant blast that blinded Desmond then.
Nathaniel and Laura, opening the doors outside, were thrown flat onto their backs.
Nathaniel felt the wind rush out of his lungs as he hit the lawn, His vision was blinded by a white light, not unlike looking straight into the sun.
His ears rang as he went limp, rolling with the blast so that he wouldn't be hurt.
Aside from a few cuts and scrapes, he found himself mostly unhurt as he suddenly sat up.
“What the hell?” he asked as he scrambled to his feet.
Laura was already a step ahead of him, her arm cradled to her side. It was locked at an odd angle, the bone shattered. She didn't really care, trying to deny the void in her chest.
Devon was dead–gone from this world; she knew it.
The door to the warehouse was gone, and the inside looked nothing like the last time they were in there.
The trees around them were dead, withered and black. The lawn that Nathaniel had just watched Desmond walk across was brown and mostly barren.
There was blood everywhere and limbs that Nathaniel recognized as part of the Black Caesar's followers.
Reynolds' minions were flat on their faces, and it was unclear whether they were dead. It didn't matter to Nathaniel as his eyes searched the wreckage.
He found Desmond first, looking stunned, but conscious. He had blood pouring from his mouth, but his eyes were clear as he reached his hand to Nathaniel.
“Her,” Desmond said, through a mouth full of blood. “Go to her.”
Nathaniel's eyes fell forward, and he saw what Desmond meant.
Sienna was on her knees, looking at her palms, stunned. Her gaze was far away, and her nose was bleeding.
“Tiro,” Nathaniel said as he rushed toward her. “Sienna! Sienna!”
He grabbed her at once, pulling her tiny body into his arms. Reuniting with her was like finding a piece he was missing, his precious child that he had failed.
“Sienna, I'm so sorry,” he said. “I'm so sorry.”
“Devon?” Laura said, approaching in shock at the limp body. Her jaw dropped as she looked at his chest. “He's breathing? He's breathing. No, no, I saw you die. I felt you die. I felt you leave me. You didn't?”
“I saved him,” Sienna's tiny voice came, looking up at Nathaniel. She had broken all the blood vessels in her eyes, and she was trembling hard enough to tell him what was coming. “I saved us all.”
And then she went limp in his arms.
Chapter 18
When Sienna awoke, she had no idea where she was. The world was dim and hazy, and all the sound seemed far away. She felt something scratchy touching her, and she could feel vibrations beside her.
She tried to open her eyes time and time again, but it wasn't working. She couldn't seem to bring herself fully into the world of the living, fighting to return.
‘Maestro,’ she managed, reaching out through her bond.
To her horror, there was silence. There was no familiar feeling of safety when the message travelled through magic to her beloved Maestros. There was no feeling of comfort at all.
“Maestro,” the fear launched through her, and she sat up. She nearly choked when she did as something pushed against her chest.
Her eyes opened this time, and she found herself in a pure, white room, laying on a starched white bed. There were IVs in both her arms, and one attached to the jugular in her neck. There was an oxygen mask on her face, and machines beeping everywhere.
She felt contained–trapped–and it was terrifying.
“Sienna!” Suddenly, Nathaniel was beside her, his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back. “It's okay. It's okay, little one. It's okay. You're safe. Shh, little one.”
“Maestro,” she managed to say as the tears came. It was as if all the fear that had been pent up during the attack came rushing back at once. She buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing. The mask was in the way, and her tears flooded against it. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”
“It's okay,” he said, running a hand through her tangled hair. “It's okay. It's over now.”
Eventually, he managed to ease her back down onto the bed. It didn't take her long to realize that he wasn't sending calming magic into her veins like he normally did. He was, however, making soothing noises, keeping her calm with his voice. And once she stopped struggling, he reached to take the oxygen mask off her face.
“Just take a few breaths,” he said. “See if you can breathe normally. If it hurts, let me know.”
She did as she was told, cautiously taking a deep breath and then another. Her lungs hurt, but she could fill them, and she found a normal rhythm–cautious but strong.
She nodded, watching his face as he checked her vitals.
“I feel weird,” she said, unable to make sense of what was happening. “Nathaniel, I feel weird.”
“I know,” he said, clicking a machine to check a few stats. “You're okay, though. You're stable.”
“How…where?” She couldn't even form words.
“You're on Jeffro,” he said, “in Eliza's royal facility, only completed a day when we brought you in.”
“What…?” she said, her head beginning to pound. Her breath fell short, and he picked up on that, reaching for oxygen tubing instead. Gently, he looped it over her ears and under her nose. He waited until she was calm before he spoke.
“You've been here three weeks,” he said. “There were many times when we thought we would lose you. You wouldn't wake after the attack.”
“Devon!” she suddenly remembered.
“Yes, Devon,” Nathaniel said. “Devon is fine.”
She breathed such a sigh of relief that she actually displaced her pillow. He picked it up with a smile, lifting her head gently.
“Desmond?”
“Desmond is also fine,” he said. “Why don't you let me tell you what happened, all right? Just breathe easy.”
“Everyone is fine?” she asked in shock.
“Everyone is fine,” he assured her, “thanks to you. You were the one who wasn't fine.”
“I…the spell,” she remembered hazily.
“After that spell, you fell from us,” Nathaniel said. “I expected a seizure, perhaps a week of illness. But you would not come back to us. It was as if you hovered between this world and the next. And I thought…,” He paused, emotion overtaking him. “I thought we would have to let you go.”
“No!” Tears came into her eyes. “No. I made a mistake.”
He tried to smile through his tears. “Shh! We stabilized you and brought you here to Jeffro as a last resort.”
“Reynolds?”
“Reynolds was transported to the school,” he said, “and is currently being held prisoner in the dungeon, awaiting trial. Desmond, I suspect, will fight for him to have life in prison with parole, but I don't know what the Jurors' outcome will be. Either way, the mission is considered a success, and it's thanks to you.”
“To me?” she was so shocked by this. “But I messed up.”
“We all make choices that we look back on with regret,” Nathaniel said softly. “Yours, though, saved our lives. No one can fault you for that. At least, no one in their right mind can.”
Sienna sank against her pillows, trying to make sense of everything he had told her. Her throat was aching, and she couldn't think of the words she wanted.
‘Maestro,’ she tried again, the word so strong in her head she could practically see it.
But there was no answer.
“Nathaniel, our bond,” she said in a panic. “I can't…what's happening to me?”
Nathaniel squeezed her hand, and she didn't need the bond to see how troubled he was. Her eyes followed his to a purple IV bag hanging above her.
“Nathaniel?” she asked, fear creeping into her voice.
“Sienna, we thought we had lost you. You wouldn't awaken. Day after day, week after week, we waited. But you remained trapped in the world in between. And every time one of us reached out to you with the bond, your vitals slipped a little further, and you took another step away from us. Desmond and I had to make a choice, and it worked.”
“What worked?” she asked, in a panic. “What did you do?”
“That's Cinemron,” Nathaniel said, and her heart nearly stopped. “And it wasn't until we pumped it into your system that you came back to us. It's been three days, but you are improving every moment.”
“Cinemron,” she echoed. She knew exactly what it was. Witches feared it, avoided it, and ran from it. Cinemron was a chemical that blocked magic in a witch's body. It made it impossible to draw on nature. “Nathaniel….”
“Shh,” he said. “We had to try. We had to do something, my dear, or you would have left us forever.”
“I can't be a witch without magic!” she cried, hot, salty tears pouring down her face. “I can't train, I can't–”
“Sienna,” Nathaniel stroked her hair, “listen to me. This entire time, you and magic have been in a volatile relationship. You have never used much of it, except as a weapon with dire consequences. We have shown you diplomacy, translation, negotiation, undercover work, and piloting. You haven't been using your magic much at all. Witches stand for so much more than fighting with magic, and you are good at all of those things.”
“But I can't. I'm your Tiro.”
“And that will never change!” he assured her. “Desmond and I took a pledge. We will never leave you. Is that clear? Do you understand? We will never walk away from you, all right?”
She searched his eyes, but she saw nothing but truth in them; nothing but calm relief. “But our bond….”
“We are bonded, little one,” he assured her. “We are bonded, and no one can take that away from us. Don't worry. All right?”
She didn't know what to say to that. But she felt comforted by Nathaniel's assurance and his strength.
“Where will we go from here?” she managed, the only question she could think of that she felt made sense.
“Home,” he said, and she blinked in shock.
“What?”
“Home,” he repeated. “The Jurors have decided, in light of our capture of Reynolds, that we can be reinstated. We are to return as soon as you are strong enough.”
Her mouth fell open, and she smiled, which warmed his heart.
“Really? Really?!”
“Yes!” He smiled back. “Home at last.”
“Oh my,” she closed her eyes. “I thought I would never hear someone say that. But you…Eliza.”
“It's okay,” Nathaniel said softly. “Eliza and I have an understanding. I am committed to you until you need me no longer. And then maybe, just maybe, this dream I lived with her these past few months will become a permanent choice. But right now, we are going to focus on getting you better.”
“How long will I…?” She indicated the IV in her arm.
“I don't know,” he admitted. “But you know that Desmond and I will make the best choices for you regarding it.”
“And when the Jurors find out that the most powerful witch they have seen can't do magic?”
“First of all, they won't,” Nathaniel said. “We are sealing your records, taking a page from Laura and Devon's book. And if they ever do, they can deal with it and keep their mouths shut because we are your Maestros, and we make those choices for you. Do you trust us?”
Sienna met his eyes. “Yes, of course.”
“Then just rest for now,” he said. “And let us take care of everything.”
“Can I see Desmond?” she asked. “Or Devon?”
“I can get Devon for you,” Nathaniel said, rising. “He's been eagerly awaiting your return.”
She paused. “Why not Desmond?”
Nathaniel chose his words carefully. “Desmond is not…having the easiest time with all of this, Sienna. He has been by your side this whole time, but when he saw signs that you were awakening, he chose to meditate. He'll be all right. Just give him some space.”
“Did he not want me to awaken?” she asked, confused.
“He did,” Nathaniel said. “He will be overjoyed. Being that close to Reynolds again, and having you leave…it was a bit much. He'll be all right.”
“I don't want to leave!” she assured her. “I thought I did. I thought that I wanted a different path, but I don't. I want to be a witch, I want to be trained, I want–”
“I know,” he assured her. “It's in the past. Don't worry about it. For now, just rest. I'll get Devon for you.”
“Thank you,” she said, and Nathaniel turned, navigating the doorway through his emotions.
“She's awake.” Eliza had been hovering just outside, not wanting to intrude. “Thank Creator.”
“Yes,” Nathaniel said, giving her a hug. “I've never been so thankful. I need to get Devon for her. She won't rest until she sees him.”
“Did you tell her?” Eliza questioned, and Nathaniel shook his head.
“I couldn't. Now is not the right moment. Perhaps he will tell her himself, or perhaps he will choose to wait until she regains her strength. It wasn't my tale to tell.”
“Very responsible of you,” Eliza said. “Considering your views on his choice.”
“He's not my Tiro,” Nathaniel said softly. “Mine is back, and she's made it pretty clear that she's never leaving me again. As soon as I find Devon, I should find Desmond. Without the bond, he won't know.”
“Do you think it will be permanent?” Eliza asked. “The suppressing of her magic?”
“If it keeps her alive,” Nathaniel set his jaw, “then I will personally administer it every day of my life.”
“But a witch without magic?” Eliza asked, and Nathaniel shrugged.
“She's been exceptional her whole life. This is just another way she'll show them that she doesn't have to be like everyone else. Another way she'll go down in the history books.”
“Beside her Maestros,” Eliza said with a smile as Nathaniel headed off.
Chapter 19
Desmond had gone to meditate initially when he felt Sienna shift back to consciousness, but he had ended in the gardens, walking with Mariah. It seemed a moment too good to pass up – their last moment, where no one would be bothered if they held hands while they walked.
“It does seem a lifetime ago,” Mariah said as they walked.
“A lifetime ago, and yet not so far,” Desmond answered. “I imagine we will adapt.”
“We will,” Mariah said, “because we always find a way. Although things will be different.”
He sighed. “To be honest, Mariah, I'm not sure I will be able to.”
Her head turned toward him. “Of course, you will,” she said. “You always find a way. That's why you've gotten this far.”
“I do know something,” he said. “This will be the last time. I do not have the heart or the strength anymore. It's not about saving them. It's about being a good Maestro, and I cannot provide that.”
“We knew this day would come,” she pointed out. “A day when we would age out. I know there was some discussion of the Jurors making a special exception due to your age, but I understand.”
“And when Sienna is ready, I promise you,” he said. “We will return to these gardens, and we will have our moment.”
“Don't promise that,” she said with a smile. “You are not sure you can uphold that promise.”
“I will do my very best,” he said as he heard footsteps. Out of instinct, he dropped Mariah's hand. However, to his relief, it was Nathaniel standing at the doorway of the palace, calling out to him.
“Maestro,” said his former Tiro, his face full of happiness. Desmond knew at once why he was being summoned.
“Sienna is awake,” he said to Mariah. “I have a duty to go to her.”
“It's more than a duty,” Mariah reminded him, but Desmond said nothing to that. Mariah felt him leave her, walking toward Nathaniel, with a heaviness around him. It was more than a duty, wasn't it? His Tiros had always been more than a duty. They had been family–their children, their hope.
Desmond was changing, and she knew he was right. He couldn't take another one; that time was over.
Her heart glimmered with hope as she felt his presence head inside. They just had to get through this; a few more years, and then they would have their heaven forever.
Sienna had thought that she wanted to see Desmond more than anything in the world. However, when Devon entered the room, her heart leapt with joy.
“Hi,” he said, as if they had only been apart a few moments, rather than weeks while she drifted. “Nice of you to rejoin us.”
“Devon,” Sienna opened her arms carefully, and he went to hug her, kissing the top of her head. She scooted, and he took the cue, hopping up on the bed beside her. This was what she wanted as she snuggled up against him. Now, she felt complete. “Are you all right? Are you…?”
“I'm all right, thanks to you,” he assured her, playing with her. “My brave witch, you saved me. You saved all of us.”
“I'm not brave,” she said with a shrug. “It was just something I had to do. I had to do it, Devon. I couldn't stand to be alone.”
“I couldn't have done what you did, none of us could,” Devon reminded her. “You have a bright future ahead of you.”
She glanced up to the IV bags, but he brought her chin back to gaze into her eyes. “In spite of that,” he told her. “In spite of all of it.”
“Mmm,” she lay on her shoulder, and he poked her.
“Hey, I want to ask you something.”
She looked up, confused.
“Do you still want to go?” he chose his words carefully. Her eyes widened.
“No,” she said. “After all of that, I can't. I don't want to. I can't,” she decided. “I don't know what the future holds for me, Devon, but I have to stay on this path.”
“I thought you might say that,” he smiled at her. “And I think you're right.”
“We made a mistake,” she said softly. “But it can be forgiven.”
He stayed silent for a moment. “We made a mistake, I think, on how we went about it. But….”
She suddenly felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. “What?” she asked.
He smiled, brushing the hair out of her face. “I can't stay here, Sienna. I can't do that.”
“What?” Her mouth fell open in shock. “What are you talking about?”
“Your Maestros…they are different.”
“Laura loves you!” Sienna said, sitting up a bit more. Her head spun, but she had to push her point across. “She doesn't want you to go.”
“Of course, she does, and of course she wants me to stay,” Devon said. “But she won't be broken if I leave. She understands that I have another path to walk on, and she will go on and train others who will hopefully be better to her and for her. We've talked about it. She is at peace with the choice.”
“No, you can't!” She grabbed onto his hand. “You can't leave me.”
“I'm not leaving you,” he assured her. “Please don't think this is like that, because it's not. This is what I have to do, Sienna, for me. It does not affect you and me, the way I feel about you, any of it. Look at Nathaniel. He manages a relationship with a non-witch. It's possible.”
“But…,” her lip trembled.
“Until my dying day,” he assured her, “I will love you. But I can't stay on as a witch. Please understand that, my love. Please.”
She felt tears pool in her eyes, and she lay her head against his chest.
“Where will you go?” she asked.
“I don't know,” he replied with a sly grin. “I thought about maybe staying on Jeffro. Or maybe traveling. I don't want to die, but I know that I will eventually, so I can't stray too far off the beaten path until it's my time. But rest assured, you will always know where I am and what I plan to do. You have nothing to fear from our separation.”
“But I will miss you.”
“My love, it's no different than us on missions,” he said. “We got used to being together, but we didn't do that for years, and we managed just fine. And we spent eight months apart with nothing too life changing, hmm?” he reminded her. “It'll be all right. I promise.”
Somehow, listening to his calming voice and the rise and fall of his chest, she became convinced. But Devon could always convince her of anything because she loved him.
“Nathaniel is in charge of his own fate,” she said. “He can choose to see Eliza. I can't choose the quests we go on.”
“Ah,” Devon said with a small smile. “Perhaps I'll just have to make sure to go wherever you are. That is, until you pass the tests.”
That surprised her. “You think that I'm going to pass the tests?” she asked in shock. “Do you know what they've done to me? Do you know what I have to–”
“I know,” he said. “But if anyone can find a way to do it without magic, it'll be you.”
“When are you leaving?” she asked, desperate for as much time with him as she could.
“I'll come back with you,” he said. “There are no hard feelings toward the Jurors. Laura will unseal my medical records, and it will be an honorable discharge, without a doubt. I'll pack up and go from there, and then perhaps arrange myself, so that I'm wherever your next quest is. We'll work it out, I promise.”
She squeezed his hand. “I suppose it could work.”
“Of course, it's going to work,” Devon smiled at her. “Don't worry about anything. I'll take care of everything.”
“You always do,” she answered with a smile. She was gaining more and more hope with each day. But suddenly, the sinking feeling came back to her. “Devon, you died.”
“Haven't we already been over this?” he asked her, teasing her. “Of course, I did. But you saved me.”
“I know that,” she answered. “But what door have I opened? What have I brought back with you?”
He took a deep breath. “I don't know,” he replied. “So far, there's been nothing, though. With the bird, it was moments later, so…”
“But with Eliza's cousin, it was years later,” Sienna pointed out.
Devon traced a pattern on the sheets. “Maybe it won't happen this time?”
“It will,” she said quietly. “It will. It's just a matter of what and when.”
“Ahem,” she looked up to see Desmond leaning against the doorway, looking slightly unimpressed with the fact that they were snuggling. Devon jumped as if he was still going to answer to a Maestro's law.
“I should let you two talk,” he said, sheepishly sliding off the bed. “I'll, um, come see you later, Sienna.”
“Please,” she replied as she watched him go. She turned her gaze to Desmond, hope in her eyes. “Maestro?” she asked.
Desmond was less emotional and affectionate than Nathaniel. He remained standing at the door.
“I'm glad to see you've awakened, little one.”
Sienna simply shrugged with a smile. “Of course. We aren't done, are we?”
To that, Desmond said nothing as he entered the room. Like Nathaniel, he glanced at her vitals and then sat in the chair beside her bed.
“How are you feeling?”
“Odd without the bond,” she said.
He let out a deep breath. “It was necessary, Sienna.”
“I know,” she assured him. “It's just going to take some getting used to. But we're going home, aren't we?”
“We are,” he said. “Back to school, back to quests. For a time, at least.”
“For a time,” she echoed. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we can't stay in this state forever,” he said. “You can't train forever.”
“No,” she replied. “But I'm not ready now.”
“No,” he agreed. “You aren't. I am glad to see you safe, though. You had us all quite scared.”
“Maestro, I wouldn't leave you,” she promised him. “I'm sorry about the choices I made. I never should have gone with Devon, I never should have–”
“Hush, Sienna,” he said softly. “It's in the past. It doesn't matter now. What's done is done. Nathaniel tells me that you regret your choice, and that's all that matters.”
“I do,” she said. “Although, fate is funny. Had I not run off, we perhaps wouldn't have gotten Reynolds.”
“Perhaps not,” Desmond said, and she had a feeling he wondered otherwise.
“Desmond?” she asked, unsure. When they had first started training together, it was the two of them that had been closest. Nathaniel hadn't even wanted her. He preferred to have a strong warrior, and he cursed her weak genes. But now, it seemed the situation was flipped. “Are you angry?”
“No, little one,” he said. “Angry is not the word.”
“What is the word?” she asked fearfully.
He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her. “Don't worry about it. This was a rough quest for me, with lots of memories from the past. It will take some time, but I will recover.”
“And we will be fine?” she asked eagerly.
“We will find a way,” he said as he stood up. “Do you need anything?”
She shook her head. “No. Just rest, I guess.”
“Then get lots of rest,” he said. “For you have strength inside you that you aren't aware of. You will be fine.”
“Yes,” she said with a smile. “I will be.”
Chapter 20
When they had first come to Jeffro as exiles, Sienna wasn't sure that they would ever leave. They had seemed to be in such a precarious position that she wasn't sure anything would be all right again. And then, over time, Jeffro had become her home. She had gotten used to the palace, the quiet gardens, and the loveliness of the royal life. She had even reached a place where she thought she might not want to go back to school. It hadn't been the easiest place for her.
But now as they loaded the ship and did a final sweep of the palace, she couldn't wait to return.
It wasn't going to be the same. She had no magic, and Devon wouldn't be there. But despite the shortcomings, she still saw hope; she felt like there was a future. And she was excited to see what that future would be.
“Are you sure you have everything?” Nathaniel asked her, standing in the hangar. “Because Eliza can mail it back, but she'll probably hold onto it out of spite to teach you how to pack properly.”
“I'm sure,” Sienna replied. “We came with so little anyway. What do I need that is material possessions anyways?
“Uh, rucksack, meds, clothes…” Nathaniel started ticking off the items on his fingers, and she went into the ship just to make sure.
Outside in the hangar, the other Maestros were giving their Tiros similar instructions.
Nathaniel wanted Sybil to physically go through Kierry's rucksack, trying to count everything. Kierry giggled as Sybil found candy that she certainly hadn't arrived with.
“Do you think the ship has no food?” Sybil teased her Tiro as she released her to go put the bag on the ship.
“You shouldn't give her such a hard time,” Nathaniel said with a smile as he strolled over. “Not too long ago, that was us.”
“The amount of chocolate I used to be able to stuff my rucksack with, could choke a shop,” Sybil grinned. “And when I learned the bottomless bag spell, oh, that was the best.”
Nathaniel snapped his fingers in memory. “I forgot about that one,” he said with a grin. “I should use that more often.”
“You still feel the weight,” Sybil pointed out. “I know there's a way to do it without that, but until then, I am limited to my body weight in treats.”
“Ha,” Nathaniel said, and Sybil grinned.
“You're in a good mood for someone who is leaving the love of his life.”
“Ah, well,” Nathaniel shrugged. “Eliza and I are used to this. We almost don't know how to function together.”
“That, I can tell,” Sybil teased him. “You should go say your final goodbyes.”
“I said goodbye to her.” Nathaniel winked at Sybil. “If you want to know how….”
“Ew,” Sybil gave him a little shove and headed onto the ship. Nathaniel cast his gaze across the hangar, where Eliza was waiting. She had come with her royal escort as if this was an official visit. She simply wanted to say goodbye to her honored guests–nothing out of the normal about that.
Except for the fact that Nathaniel could not take her into his arms and kiss her like he wanted to. Instead, he composed himself as she came closer.
“It has been an honor hosting you, Maestro,” she said formally. “I hope you will visit us again.”
She had a crown on her head, and she was dressed in full regalia. But underneath, Nathaniel could still see her sparkling eyes, her full lips–the beautiful girl he had fallen in love with during quiet moments. Eliza liked to put walls up, but he knew what was beneath them.
He would miss her, but he had a life to complete first, and she understood that. As Eliza's loyalty was to her people and her country, his was to the witches and his Tiro. But one day, and one day soon, he would return.
“It was an honor to be hosted by such a lovely queen,” he said. “And I am quite sure we will see each other very soon.”
He bowed deeply to her, and she smiled, curtsying just a little.
Desmond watched from across the hangar where he was standing with Mariah, wanting to be apart from the crowd.
“Nathaniel acts as if everything hasn't changed,” Desmond said. “As if we are just going to go back to our old lives, and no one will notice.”
“Maybe,” Mariah said. “But I think what you need to see, Desmond, is that he is happy. He's all right.”
“Hmmm?” Desmond turned his head toward her, confused at her point.
“You saw him at a tournament. You felt a bond. You trained him to adulthood. He has stayed loyal to the witches and complimented your magic every step of the way. I know that right now you feel as if your touch turns everything to stone, but it does not. He is truly happy in this moment. And we find our successes in that.”
“But he could stay here,” Desmond said, “if he wasn't a witch.”
“Pht,” Mariah smiled. “He doesn't want that, and neither does Eliza. They are both too wild for the domestic life you and I crave. What they have right now, just this way, is perfect. What you have given him is the perfect life – the perfect moment. You have succeeded.”
“I suppose that you are right,” Desmond said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “In that, at least.”
“And in a young woman pilot back home,” Mariah said, “who lost all hope one day after one quick moment in battle. Without you, Christa might never have realized her full potential.”
“She gave me hope, after Reynolds,” Desmond said softly.
“You did not fail with Reynolds,” Mariah said. “From the story you told me, he still spared you. So somewhere, he may have lost his way, but not his heart.”
“Oh,” Desmond said, his voice cracking, “Mariah...”
“And you have my heart,” she said, squeezing his hand. “As well as inspiring countless others along the way. So many look up to you, hear your stories, and listen to your lessons. Including a little girl in the ship right now who needs you. So, no, Desmond, do not think for one moment that you failed; that you couldn't do it, or anything that you've set your mind to.”
He smiled at her, shifting to rub her back gently. “You're right,” he said. “But I couldn't have done it without you.”
Mariah chuckled softly. “Well, that goes without saying,” she said. “Shall we board?”
Devon and Laura were already on board, having agreed to pilot together one last time. Laura spun the pilot's chair from side to side, watching as Devon set the co-pilot controls.
“You could be a pilot,” she said. “You're good at it. Commercial transport. Maybe medical transport in the war zones?”
“There's an idea,” he grinned at her. “Flying with my own hospital set up everywhere? It's brilliant.”
“I'm always brilliant,” she smiled as he flipped the last few switches. “And frankly, I think the Jurors are going to praise us for doing as well as we did, given the circumstances.”
“When they are done yelling,” Devon replied with a smirk. “Think you can take it?”
“I can manage,” she said. “Set your coordinates. You're still my Tiro for the time being.”
He was tempted to put in the wrong coordinates just to tease her, but decided against it. “Are you going to go right to the tournaments?” he asked. “Pick up a new me?”
“I don't know,” she answered. “I thought I might go off on my own for a while before I did that. You and I clicked so soon. I didn't get much of a chance to explore solo missions.”
“You should, though,” he said. “I mean, please, explore solo missions. But you should get a new Tiro. You're a good Maestro, Laura.”
“I….” She paused. “Devon, have you thought about just taking the tests?”
His jaw dropped. “I'm sorry?”
“You've already made up your mind that you aren't going to burden me any longer, not that I think you're a burden, of course,” she said. “But you've had all this training. You could at least try, and then you'd be in charge of your own fate. Take the quests you want, go solo, don't take a Tiro. And if it doesn't work, you have a back-up plan. I've accepted that.”
“I'm not ready,” he said, and she shrugged.
“You'll be sixteen in a few months. You could be.”
“I….” That was young, even for the most competent. But Laura's eyes were sparkling, and he realized she was serious. “Maybe. You really think that I could pass?”
“I actually do,” she said. “I didn't suggest it because you are young, and it would be unheard of. But I know you don't hate magic, Devon. You just don't want to drag someone along because you are strong and fiercely independent, as you have always been. But it doesn't mean you have to run if you don't want to.”
He really hadn't considered this option. He didn't know if he could give her an answer right away, so he just shrugged.
“It means you could stay with Sienna longer,” Laura pointed out, and he laughed.
“Fine, yes, I'll consider it. Damn you.”
“Like I don't know you,” she teased him as they heard the others coming on board.
“This is going to be refreshing,” Nathaniel said as he took in the sight of the two of them. “I'll just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”
“We like to fly upside down,” Laura said, with a grin, as they all took their seats on the bridge. Takeoff was always a beautiful sight, and everyone wanted to witness it.
Laura activated the takeoff sequence, and soon, Jeffro was below them.
Each of them were returning to a different fate than they left, along with an uncertain future. But surrounded by those that they loved, it didn't seem frightening at all.
Sienna smiled at Devon as he let Laura steer, watching the trees turn to small sticks as they gained height.
He squeezed her hand discreetly, whispering to her words that she would never forget.
“You will always have magic,” he assured her, “for my heart is with you.”
“Yes,” she said with a smile.
Years ago, even a month ago, she might have been terrified in this situation. But now, she was excited to see what the future held for her. Magic or not, she had only hope and adventure in front of her. And she couldn't wait for that journey to begin, surrounded by those who gave her that strength and that magic.
***THE END***