Dragon of Central Perk

by Sarah J. Stone

  Desmond sighed. “Nathaniel,” he got up, drifting away from the bathroom. “She was fine when I left. She was the one who accepted the invitation and who knew it was a good idea to get the locals to trust us so we could find these damned parts. She was content and then she talks to you and she turns into a quivering child again. You can't do that to her. She's got to learn to take care of herself.”

  “Sorry?” Nathaniel said. “You know how sick she is—”

  “I know how sick she was,” Desmond replied. “And I know that we made decisions that made her illness very bearable. She doesn't know how to take care of herself, because you…”

  “Because of me?” Nathaniel answered. “Because I'm focused on training a Tiro, rather than abandoning one?”

  “Nathaniel,” Desmond's voice had a growl in it. “Your current task is the ship. Mine is our Tiro.”

  “For how much longer?” Nathaniel asked, and the line went dead.

  Desmond shook his head in shock. Nathaniel had never in his life ended a call like that. Had he still been a Tiro, he would have been reprimanded beyond belief for such behavior. When they had entered into this agreement, he had hoped it would be in peace. There was enough war in the galaxy without going into battle with Nathaniel.

  Chapter 9

  Nathaniel felt like he was going to throw the com link across the room. He had been working tirelessly throughout the day, pushing his magic to the limits and wincing every time a gust of air so much as flicked his wrist, to get the heat back on and the basics of the ship running. There was no one else on board that could help him with the fine work, although Eliza had been through his side through every moment, holding tools and offering conversation.

  Now, she had heard every word that had transpired between Sienna, himself, and Desmond.

  “What's his problem?” she asked Nathaniel, as the conversation ended.

  Nathaniel shook his head. “There's not enough time to get into the delusions he has in his head in the moment.”

  Eliza's eyebrows shot up through her hair. “In all your years, I've never heard you talk about Desmond that way,” she said. “You've been so angry at him, and so confused, but you've never been rude to him like that.”

  “It's just…” Nathaniel said, and then realized what he might be revealing. “There are going to be some very long talks in the future.”

  “About what?” she asked, leaning against the wall. Nathaniel shook his head. “Now you're hiding things from me?”

  “I'm not.” Nathaniel took a deep breath. “Desmond told me before he left. This is a last test with Sienna. He's pretty certain that he can do nothing for her.”

  “What?” Eliza's jaw dropped. “He's going to leave her?”

  “I think so,” Nathaniel said. “That's why he pushing this independence, these lessons she's not ready for.”

  “But if he leaves her,” Eliza said. “She'll still have you.”

  “Of course, she will,” Nathaniel said. “But for a Maestro to leave a Tiro is almost unheard of it. It will be a black mark on his record, and he already has a few.”

  “I don't think Desmond cares what black marks the Jurors have against him,” Eliza said. “How can he leave her, though?”

  “Because he feels that her training is as far as it can go with a lack of magic. He lacks creativity, he lacks academic…” Nathaniel slammed his good hand against the wall. “We were supposed to be in this together, Eliza. This was his idea, his plan for both of us to take on a task almost too difficult to manage. Neither of us could do it without the other, and now he wants to break her heart and leave me alone.”

  Eliza stepped forward, placing a calming hand on his arm. “And if he leaves her?” she asked.

  “I won't,” Nathaniel assured. “I never will.”

  “But do you think you can do it yourself?” she said. Nathaniel's eyes flashed.

  “Of course, I can,” he said. “I'll get her through to the tests and then maybe we'll find another just like her, and work together.”

  Eliza smiled. “I was only thinking,” she said. “That there would always be a place on Jeffro for her, if you did want to…”

  “I don't want to,” Nathaniel assured her. “I never would. Difficult doesn't bother me.”

  “Mm…” She put both arms around his neck, drawing him in for a kiss. “That I know.”

  The impact of her lips on his calmed him down, it always did. She pulled back to meet his eyes, remembering the first time that she looked into those eyes, when she was just a teenager.

  “It'll be all right,” she assured him. “All of this well.”

  “I know,” he said. “And I know that anger distracts from the magic. I just can't ignore what Desmond is doing right now.”

  “I think he's doing what he believes is right,” Eliza replied. “You may not feel that it's right, but his heart may say he can't go on like this. And so it's time for you to pick up where he left off. Isn't that the trail a Maestro leads a Tiro, anyways?”

  “So philosophical,” he replied. “I'm hoping that spending time with her will make him realize how wrong he is.”

  “It may,” Eliza answered. “Or it may make him realize that he's right. Either way, if you believe that the magic is guiding you, there's not much you can do from here.”

  Suddenly, the lights kicked out and the hum of the heater switched off. Nathaniel swore, breaking apart from his lover. “I thought I had that fixed.”

  “Clearly not,” Eliza replied, looking around. “But I'm sure you'll figure it out. What can I do to help?”

  “Get some light,” he replied. “And a jacket. It's going to get cold again.”

  “It's cold already,” she said, but left the room. Eliza had always been a hands-on Queen. Those who didn't know her might be surprised to find her in the engine room, but Nathaniel knew that if there was a problem she could assist in solving, she'd be ankle deep in it without hesitation.

  With one arm useless, he had to re-think a lot of the procedures before he did them. It wasn't easy, and he had a feeling he was making things worse. Just as he was squinting over an open hatch, he heard a screech of metal behind him.

  “Eliza?” he spun around, wondering if she had tripped over something on her way back in.

  There was nothing in the darkness behind him, which made him tense.

  “Hello?” he called again, straightening up.

  Another bash of metal came, and it occurred to him that it was coming from outside the ship.

  He exited the engine room, rounding the corner to a porthole.

  To his horror, what he saw were two pirate ships, parked alongside his. There were at least forty pirates and scalpers, with massive weapons, and they were apparently taking no prisoners. Scrap metal in this good of condition was probably hard to come by.

  Nathaniel, however, wasn't interested in becoming scrap metal.

  “JONAH!” he screamed through the hallway. He wasn't sure where the lucky survivor guard was, but he couldn't be far. Jonah had been organizing guard detail of the ship, for just this reason.

  Jonah came hurtling down the hallway, Eliza on his tail. His weapon was already in his hands, and from the look of cockiness on his face, Nathaniel had a feeling he already had a plan.

  “Pirates, eh?” Jonah said, as he peaked out the window. “No problem.”

  “There's quite a few of them,” Nathaniel said, and turned to Eliza. His instinct lately in battle was to reach out and hide someone take care of someone.

  But he quickly realized that no one on the ship needed that kind of protection. Eliza was a battle queen, and her ladies in waiting were equally trained. Eliza's guards were second to none, she made sure of it.

  While he wanted to protect Eliza, and while it was his duty, her skills in pure combat were almost equal to his. It was only his magic that put him above her, and currently, he wasn't able to use much of it.

  “What's your plan?” he asked Jonah, who shrugged.

 
“Open the door and blast them into outer space?” Jonah suggested.

  Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Not the best plan,” he said. “Given that we are outnumbered.”

  “Do you have a better one?” Jonah replied. “Because in a moment, they are going to be coming through the walls and you can ask them yourself.”

  “Not particularly,” Nathaniel growled, as he thought.

  “We aren't so badly outnumbered,” Eliza said. “This is straight combat. Jonah's plan isn't bad. I do think we should open more than one door, though. Come at them from all angles”

  “And have them able to infiltrate the ship from all angles,” Nathaniel replied.

  “Have faith.” She grinned, as another guard handed her a gun. “We'll be all right.”

  “You should stay here,” Nathaniel said to Eliza. “It's our job to…”

  “I will not stand by when I don't need to,” Eliza replied. “They won't know what hit them. Isn't that right, Jonah?”

  “As you wish, your highness.” Jonah grinned at Nathaniel. “You should know better than to argue with her.”

  “I should,” Nathaniel answered reluctantly “But I don't. Fine. Divide up as you see fit. I'll stay here at this door.”

  “And I'll stay with you,” Eliza said. “When you're ready, Jonah, send a signal.”

  “With what power?” Jonah asked, and Nathaniel saw his chance.

  “Think it, with great certainty,” he said. “I should be able to pick up on your thoughts, and send it to the others.”

  “Advantage of fighting with a witch,” Jonah said with a grin. “Good luck to you.”

  “We won't need luck,” Eliza answered. “We will just need skill and time.”

  “Go,” Nathaniel said, as a blast rocked the ship. These were pirates who clearly weren't going to wait for an answer.

  “See you in a moment,” Jonah grinned and headed down the hall. Nathaniel shook his head.

  “I've never seen a man so joyous to go into battle.”

  “Jonah is a bit…different than most.” Eliza replied. “He was born to be a warrior, I think.”

  “Aye,” Nathaniel answered. “I know that feeling.”

  He monitored Jonah's thoughts carefully, waiting for the right moment. He found it easy to lock onto the young Captain of the guards, who had such similar morals and motives compared to himself.

  “On the count of three…” Nathaniel said, facing Eliza. “Ready? 1-2-.”

  In typical Queen of Jeffro fashion, she didn't wait for three. She burst through the door, firing as she did. Her jaw was set, and Nathaniel focused on every place her cover fire missed, hitting the pirates before they even had a chance to think. He locked onto her mind, looking for the gaps in her aim and making it up with his own laser bullets.

  They were perfectly in sync, his entire mind moving with hers. He didn't think about anything else besides the battle, the moment, the next shot.

  It turned out to be remarkably easy. Pirates were untrained warriors, and they stood no chance against a one-armed witch and Eliza's Jeffroian guards

  In the end, the group was left panting in the middle of bodies, grinning to each other over their victory.

  “How was that?” Eliza asked Nathaniel, who laughed.

  “That, was amazing,” he said. “I haven't had a battle like that in ten years. Is it strange to hope for many more to come?”

  “Not if that's what you are meant to do,” Eliza said, leaning into him for a kiss. There was no one around who cared to dampen their mood, and he lost himself in the moment that he rarely could have.

  Chapter 10

  “As in they could be witches?” Sienna said, softly, as they walked down stairs. Although her tears were dry, he could see that she was still nervous, which he cursed Nathaniel for. He wasn't going to assure her time and time again she would be fine. They would be fine. She had to learn to find courage within.

  “They are born with magic,” he said. “You know as well as I do that being born with magic does not bring you through the tests.”

  “Like me,” she said, and he sighed.

  “Yes, little one, like you.”

  The change in her mood from earlier was evident, and he hoped that there would be enough food to distract her from what Nathaniel had caused her to dwell on.

  He hadn't expected to walk into a dining hall full of children. He expected a place like this to have a tiny available cafeteria, with yesterday's food being served. The dining hall was larger than most of the building, taking up the entire floor of the basement. There were at least twenty children eating, running, yelling, and, to both their amazement, using magic. They used magic for everything picking up their forks, choosing their food, and even throwing a piece of food or two at each other, with giggles.

  “Oh my.” Sienna put her hand to her mouth. She could only imagine such behavior in her youth, which would instantly get her into trouble. Trained witches would not be allowed to have such lavish displays of magic, for any reason. If they did, they would be punished. Witches were supposed to use their magic only for good, and not display it for reasons that didn't serve nature. “Did you know there were so many?”

  “I didn't,” Desmond admitted. “I know you can't feel it, but their magical signature is odd. But then, I've never felt children this old who were completely untrained.”

  “Do you think they are too old to be trained?” Sienna asked, and Desmond eyed her.

  “Is that the first thing that comes to your mind? That they should be taken away from their life here?”

  He wasn't asking it harshly, but rather, curiously. Sienna was certain of her answer.

  “Of course. They are witches. And what kind of life to they have here?”

  “They are orphans. They have jobs, they are provided living expenses. I suspect they were sought out for their powers and brought here. They talked about a boss named Pedro, and I'm not sure whether he's the good sort to protect orphans…”

  “Or the bad sort to take advantage of them,” Sienna answered. “They seem…happy. I mean, he put them up here. Can you imagine having a job that young?”

  “As in, being a witch?” he asked as they sat. Both of them knew it was best to first observe and then interfere as they felt needed. However, it was only a few moments before they were given a plate of food, thrown down in front of them by an apparently disgruntled waitress.

  “Is everyone here upset?” Sienna asked under her breath. Desmond quirked an eyebrow at her, but said nothing. That was, without a doubt, Nathaniel's brand of humor However, they soon found that they weren't left alone to their meal.

  The disgruntled innkeeper approached. “Why aren't you eating?”

  “Uh…” Desmond did a quick scan of the plate, and saw, to his surprise, that everything was fresh.

  “These children come here to be treated well. I will not have it any other way under my watch.”

  “That's so kind of you,” Sienna said, with a smooth smile. “Are they often here?”

  “Their conditions aren't the best,” the innkeeper admitted. “But Pedro, he's good to take care of them.”

  “Is he?” Sienna asked. “The children have been telling me wonderful things about him.”

  “He is,” the innkeeper said. “He doesn't want to see lost children go astray. Wants them to be able to pick their own paths.”

  “But are they not witches?” Sienna asked. “Isn't there a school for people like them?”

  “Schools like that are dreams,” she replied. “For the rich, for those who can fit in. These children are orphans from bad families. Now, eat.” She pushed the plate toward Sienna. “You're thin.”

  “She's all right,” Desmond put in, but he could see there was going to be no choice in the matter.

  Sienna pressed forward, wanting to see if she could get any more information.

  “Would this Pedro know where to get parts?” she asked. “I'm thin because I'm sick, and I need to get home.”

 
; That seemed to catch the innkeeper's attention. Her eyes lingered between Sienna and Desmond for a long moment.

  “Maybe,” she said. “Eat.”

  She turned and left, but Sienna had a feeling that her watchful eye was going to be on them all evening.

  “You did well, Tiro,” Desmond said. “You made a step in the right direction and I did not say a word to assist, if you noticed.”

  “I noticed.” She picked up her fork. “But—” She took a deep breath, poking at the carrots. Desmond drew the line at her making herself sick, and reached over, but she pulled away. “We're going to insult her if I don't. And if that is one step closer to getting these parts before we all die on this frozen rock…then so be it.”

  He didn't stop her. He knew that he could probably argue or order her to step away from the plate, but they both understood that it would help.

  “A bit,” he said. “A little bit shouldn't hurt you, not with the magical suppressors we have you on.”

  “I never thought of that, actually,” she said. “Would they help?”

  “Here's to being in a medical textbook,” he said, picking up his dirty water glass.

  It didn't take long for the children to notice the strangers among them. They were friendly and outgoing, which told Desmond that their working conditions were not terrible. If they were abused, they would not be smiling and playing so eagerly in such a public space.

  Sienna found a little girl tugging at her arm shyly within the first five minutes. She looked down, smiling as she took what was her first bite of a real vegetable in a few years.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  The girl pointed to a ball, which had rolled under the table. Sienna bent to get it and then paused.

  “Can you?” she asked. “With your magic? I'm sure you can.”

  The girl grinned, and reached her hand out.

  Sienna watched in awe as a pink stream of magic shot, encompassed the ball, and pulled it back into the girl's hand. She moved her leg as it brushed her, feeling the warm magic of another witch for the first time in years as well as the chewy carrot.

  The look on her face when she felt magic made Desmond's heart sink. In Sienna's mind, there had never been any other path, besides being a witch, serving the magic. She had only ever dreamed of it, and she had dreamed of it before they had even given her the path to achieve it.