“Me?” she said, in shock. “Why me?”
“Because Reynolds will have heard of you,” Nathaniel said. “Everyone knows of your power, little one. He will want you for his side.”
“Never,” she said, and Nathaniel shrugged.
“Yes, but that is the part that you must play. It's not hard, just follow Desmond's lead.”
“And you?” she asked.
“I will be joining Sybil,” he said, and her eyes widened.
“No, Nathaniel. We can't be apart.”
He chuckled softly. “We won't be. I will pretend as if it's Sybil influence that has turned me, and Desmond will go looking for me, and then find Reynolds.”
“Reynolds will believe Desmond wants to turn?” she asked.
This made Nathaniel look at the ground. “Yes,” he said. “But I want you to remember that anything Desmond says, or I say…it's acting. Listen to the bond, all right? No one but the three of us can penetrate those thoughts, and there you will find the truth.”
“Desmond has always walked a greyer line than most,” Sienna said at last.
“Which is why it will be more believable,” Nathaniel answered. “It's just an act, remember that.”
“Of course,” she said. They took on roles and quests all the time, and she was used to going with the flow of things. “You have met him? Reynolds?”
“Never,” Nathaniel answered. “I've only heard stories of who he used to be.”
“It will be interesting,” she said, “to see the first Tiro that drew Desmond.”
“Someday, someone will say that about you,” he smiled as he stood up. “Come on, let's explore the rest.”
She shivered as she stood, and he snapped his fingers to the rucksack she was still carrying. “Sweater,” he said, and she reluctantly put it on. “Just because we aren't on an official quest doesn't mean you have to freeze.”
“Do you think the Jurors will take us back?” Sienna asked. “After this?”
“Uh…,” Nathaniel paused. “I don't know, to be honest. I haven't thought about it like that.”
“Perhaps Desmond will feel less guilty,” she said, and that stopped him.
“What?” he answered. “He doesn't feel guilty. I mean, I could see why he would, but I don't feel any guilt off him. He and Mariah maintain that they have done nothing wrong and have never let their relationship distract them.”
“He didn't used to,” she answered. “But he does lately.”
“Sienna,” he said at last, “don't dive into people's innermost thoughts, all right?”
“Because it's not polite?” she responded automatically.
“Because it's not polite, but also because sometimes, you dig so deep that you realize feelings they have not even realized yet. That could come as quite a shock if they hear it from you before they realize it themselves, all right?”
“Can't everyone do this?” she asked.
“No, little one, you're the only one, who is this powerful,” he said. “Desmond and I may be able to work in combat, but we can't do what you do, and you know that. You know you're special. Which are words Reynolds may tell you to sway you.”
“I wouldn't ever do that,” she swore. “What he says will be false.”
“It won't all be false,” Nathaniel warned her. “That is what makes that type of magic so dangerous. He will use the truth against you to suggest that the path you are on is not correct.”
“No,” she swore, and he smiled. She was determined, as she always was.
But he knew that Sienna had also lived a very sheltered life. She had never experienced Acheronian magic before, just as she had never fired a gun. By her age, most witches had already fought in a battle, already taken a life, and seen all kinds of magic.
He knew that he, as her Maestro, was at fault for this. She was ill equipped, but he didn't really see another way around it at the moment. He couldn't risk her life any more than they already did. Usually, he was all right with the way things were. But sometimes, there were glaring examples of just what a different life they were living.
“This is a big ship,” Sienna said as they walked. They were moving slowly, cautiously, both for her own safety and in case of unexpected bumps. “Eliza likes us.”
“Sure,” Nathaniel answered as they rounded the corner to where the bunks were. They were meant for soldiers, stacked on top of each other with white, coarse sheets and topped with a single pillow. “Oh. Well, it's just for one night, isn't it?”
Sienna made a face. “A long night.”
He smiled, giving her a little bump on the shoulder. “You won't even notice,” he said. “Come on, let's–”
That was when a giant jolt threw both of them sideways.
“What the hell?” Nathaniel caught her, slamming his own shoulder into the wall as leverage. There would likely be a bruise in the morning, but he didn't really care. “What was that?” ‘Desmond?’
‘Meteor shower, as far as I can tell,’ Desmond's frantic thoughts came back. ‘I'm trying to re-set our course.’
“It's okay.” Nathaniel pulled Sienna down where they couldn't be hurled across the ship. They sat on the floor, both of them gripping onto the rails made for just this purpose. “You heard that?”
She nodded, although she looked a bit frightened. He quickly remembered that this was another experience she had only had in simulation.
“You know this is Christa's favorite time to fly?” he tried to distract her. “She likes meteor showers; she says they keep her alert. Ah!”
They clearly hit something big, and he braced.
‘Desmond!’
‘Man the guns,’ Desmond's thoughts came back.
‘For what?’ Nathaniel thought, in shock.
This is not a meteor shower. We're under attack.’
Sienna heard those thoughts, meeting her Maestro's eyes with the terror.
“I thought–”
“You may get to use those skills after all,” he said, eyeing the distance between them and the guns. “When I count to three, we run. Sit in the seat and buckle yourself up, do you understand?”
“You are coming?”
“No, I have to fly,” he said. “But we are connected, little one. Don't forget that.”
She looked terrified, but nodded. Nathaniel wished that he had the time to comfort her; the time to explain what the best procedure was. But he needed to get up front and assess the situation before they were blown to bits. A Halifax Pier was a warship, but it was useless if it was unmanned.
“Are you ready?” he asked, and she nodded. “One-two-three! Go!”
They bolted in opposite directions, his mind locked on hers, even as he raced to the front.
Desmond looked frazzled when he got there, trying to run both piloting chairs and ready the gun in the command center.
“What is it?” Nathaniel asked.
“Pirates, I think.” Desmond answered. “Raiders.”
“Pht, it's nothing.” Nathaniel turned on the minter, and then his jaw dropped. “Unless there's a fleet of about 1000. Holy…”
“We have to attack,” Desmond answered. “Or they'll overtake us.”
“Like hell they will,” Nathaniel replied as he began to input commands. “Get on the gun up here. I've got Sienna on the back ones.”
This was what they were used to and had done so together for years on end. They flowed into it as if they had never left, moving as a unit. They only difference now was their young Tiro in the back, engaged in her very first space battle.
Chapter 7
“Hold onto your hats,” Nathaniel said as he dodged yet another pirate attack. He knew that there were too many for them to actually win, but he didn't need to have every single one shot down. He just needed enough shot down that he could get a clear path out of there.
The pirate ships were small, but they often won attacks by their tiny shots hitting large ships in impressive numbers. One shot wasn't going to do much, but a thousand was a
different story.
“Um,” Desmond said, as they nearly flipped upside down, “that was unnecessary.”
“Never wanted Christa more than now,” Nathaniel gripped the steering wheel. “Here's a clear shot set up for you.”
‘Maestro.’
The cry came loud and clear, and both of them tensed.
‘Sienna, are you hurt?’
‘I can't do this.’
Desmond half smiled, even as he was blowing ships apart. ‘You can do this, little one. One at a time.’
‘I can't.’
Nathaniel chimed in then. ‘Devon is on the other side.’
Three pirate ships blew in succession, one after the other.
Desmond raised an eyebrow. “Not good motivation, Nathaniel,” he said.
Nathaniel shrugged. “It worked, didn't it? Woah!” He misjudged a turn and slammed into four of them. There was a giant crash, and then red lights started flashing. The alarm blared, and he checked the monsters “Oops.”
“What did you break?”
“The back hatch probably won't work,” Nathaniel answered.
‘Sienna, leave the guns and come to the front.’
She didn't need to be told twice. She rushed to the front of the ship, her heart pounding and her hands trembling. She had dreamed of being a warrior, but she had never factored in the part where she was afraid.
“Okay, sit and buckle up.” Nathaniel pointed to the co-pilot seat. “I didn't want you in the back in case something sparked.”
“To your left,” Desmond said, and Nathaniel dodged just in time. Sienna gripped the seat belt, breathing heavily as she tried to not scream out in alarm. This was not easy, and she couldn't understand why they were so calm. How could they not see that this was the most terrifying moment of their lives? “And now to the right.”
“Thank you. I have eyes,” Nathaniel answered as he zigzagged. Finally, he saw a clear path, and he hit a few buttons. “Hold on!”
Sienna screamed as they launched into hyperspace, the force pushing her back into her seat. She was sure they were going to hit the wall of ships or have one come right through the windshield. This was not how she wanted to die.
But they were fine.
She cracked open one eye, her heart pounding.
“Wahoo!” Nathaniel cheered, turning to Desmond with a grin. “Still got it!”
“With only minor damage,” Desmond answered, unimpressed as he got up. “But still flying, so that's an improvement over the last few times.”
“I feel your faith in me is so little,” Nathaniel teased him as he shut down the war systems. “You should trust me more, Maestro.”
“I haven't jumped from the ship screaming, have I?” Desmond said with a smile. Both of them were keeping up a bit of humor in order to keep Sienna calm. She was clearly nervous, but they were flooding the air with calming vibes. “Yet.”
“I'm hungry, actually,” Nathaniel said as if they hadn't just made their way through a giant space battle. “Sienna? You interested in food?”
“No.” She was clear on that.
Nathaniel turned his head to notice her left cheek was starting to bruise rather badly. “Did you fall?” he asked, and she nodded. “Did you hit your head?”
“No,” she said. “Just when I ran from the gun room. I'll be all right.”
If she could accept stronger forms of magic, he could reach over and heal her. Instead, he kept his hand still, turning to Desmond. “Shall we get food then?”
“I think so,” Desmond answered. “So long as you have the autopilot enabled properly. It will alert us if there is an incoming object”
“Could the pirates…follow us?”
“If they wanted,” Nathaniel said. “But I'm sure that they don't want to. They hang around like that because they know the territory, and they have a plan. Chasing a bigger ship through space is not their style. There's nothing to be afraid of; we're safe now.”
She didn't move, staring into the black void. “Was it like this every day?” she asked. “When you were warriors?”
“Not every day,” Nathaniel replied. “But most days. It just second nature, Sienna. We barely noticed the difference between battle days and non-battle days.”
“But you could die at any moment,” she said.
“So could you,” Desmond said, and both of them turned to him in surprise “Death is a natural part of living, Sienna, and returning to Nature is not something that should be feared; especially if it is done in a way that is serving the magic.”
“Yes,” she said hesitantly.
He gave her a soft smile. “You know that your life is precious, little one. We do not choose how much time is given to us. We can only use that time wisely.”
“By not jumping out of ships?” she asked, and he shrugged.
“That's one way to start. Don't live your life in fear of death, for it is inevitable.”
She seemed to understand the seriousness of the moment, and he pushed himself up from his chair.
“Come. While we are safe from pirates, we might as well eat.”
“Why did you tell her that?” Nathaniel asked later that night as they sailed through the darkness of space. “About dying?”
“You disagree?” Desmond asked.
“I don't disagree with the premises,” Nathaniel answered. “But I also don't want her to accept limitations that she doesn't have to accept.”
“Nathaniel,” Desmond looked him right in the eye, “you cannot deny the fact that our Tiro likely won't outlive us. Giving her false expectations isn't going to help the situation.”
“I know,” Nathaniel said. “But I'm not. She's capable of anything she puts her mind to.”
“For the time she is here, yes,” Desmond answered, and Nathaniel sighed.
“You're thinking about Reynolds, aren't you?”
“I'm not,” Desmond answered. “But I have been thinking about the man Reynolds could have potentially become–the witch he was supposed to become. I have imagined meeting him a hundred different times over the years, and now that I am about to, I have no idea what to say to him. Except….’” he trailed off.
“Except?” Nathaniel prompted.
“Except I'm sorry,” Desmond answered. Nathaniel didn't know what to say to that, fiddling with the controls.
“I'm angry at him,” he said, and Desmond raised an eyebrow.
“Why? You didn't know him.”
“No,” Nathaniel said. “But I feel the pain he caused you, and I even feel it in Mariah. I've always been angry at him since the day you told me the story.”
“Mmm,” Desmond answered. “Back in the days where it was just you and I at the controls of the ship.”
“And I didn't have to say the word sweater four-hundred times a day,” Nathaniel grinned. “Those were the days.”
“Get some rest,” Desmond said, after a moment. “I'll take the first watch. But I imagine now that we've gotten through the danger zone, it will be a quiet trip.”
Just as Nathaniel was about to answer, their monitor buzzed with an incoming call. He pressed the answer button, confused about who would be calling them at this hour.
Laura's beautiful face popped up on the screen, and Nathaniel swallowed hard. He hadn't seen her in months, and he had forgotten just how lovely she was. The very sight of her brought back memories that he had kept buried deep down.
“Well, hello there,” Laura said, with a smile. “Fancy meeting you on this transmission.”
“What can we do for you?” Nathaniel asked, hitting a few buttons to make sure their transmission was secure.
“I assume you are on your way?”
“We are,” he said. “Another few hours.”
“I'm transmitting you a report that Sybil wrote,” Laura said. “A few profiles from people who we are working with–their routines, that sort of thing.”
“Excellent,” Nathaniel replied as he accepted the file. “Can you send us the landing coordinates as w
ell?”
“Already done,” she said. “Devon is going to meet your ship and take you to where we are hiding out. But as soon as you join the group, you are rebel witches. There are eyes everywhere.”
“Desmond and I are to be separate,” Nathaniel reminded her of the plan. “Is the hangar bay watched?”
“No,” Laura said. “Not really. You can probably get out a back exit and then join us later. All Reynolds' spies need to see is Desmond and Sienna joining us out in the open. We'll wait for you before we make our next move.”
“Excellent,” Nathaniel answered. “Also, I'm starving for something real. Do you have kitchens?”
Desmond smacked his former Tiro in the arm. In twenty years, it seemed very little had changed.
“We have kitchens,” Laura rolled her eyes. “I didn't miss that about you.”
“What did you miss?” Nathaniel couldn't help but ask.
Desmond took over the transmission. “We'll see you soon,” he said, and ended the call.
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”
“Longer transmissions are easier to trace,” Desmond explained.
“Right,” Nathaniel answered. “Nothing is going to happen between me and Laura. I've still got Eliza's face in my mind.”
“Can I remind you that the reason we are in this mess to begin with is because I had Mariah's face in my mind?” Desmond asked him.
“It's not a mess,” Nathaniel assured him. “It's an adventure.”
“Always the optimist,” Desmond called after him. He was grateful that his former Tiro did not blame him at all for their suspension. But then, Desmond knew it was because he had supplied Nathaniel with the mindset that some rules were meant to be broken. Had he taught him to walk the line that the Jurors set out for them, then it would, perhaps, be a different story.
Desmond knew that they couldn't change the past, no matter what magical ability they had. They could only work through their future.
Neither of them were awake when sunrise came, and Desmond didn't mind. He wouldn't have been able to sleep anyway, his thoughts preoccupied by Reynolds He navigated the ship into a landing descent and left it on autopilot as he went to gather his things.
This was the first undercover mission that they had attempted in quite a while. Sienna wasn't properly trained for them, even though she should have been. Desmond made sure to load Laura's files onto her tablet, so that she would be able to refer to them if she was unsure. All he needed was to pretend that he wanted to join Reynolds' rebellion.
Dragon of Central Perk Page 42
