A Shift in Power (Shadow Claw Book 5)

by Sarah J. Stone

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

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

  “We're good.”

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

  ‘How?’

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

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

  “AH!”

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

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

  “Where is Eliza?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Sienna stayed by Desmond's side, unsure.

  “Sienna, come here,” Nathaniel repeated.

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

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

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

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

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

  When he was breathing clearly, he opened his eyes.

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

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

  ‘Find where Eliza is.’

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

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

  ‘The first farm.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  She wasn't dead; she couldn't be.

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

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

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

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

  “How is that?” Desmond asked, patiently.

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

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

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

  Nathaniel's face reacted in shock.

  “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Can I drive?” Nathaniel asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Chapter 18

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “What did she say?” Desmond asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Desmond did not share his theory on that with Nathaniel.

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

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

  ‘Three. Two. One. GO!’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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