A Wolf's Journey (Wolf Mountain Peak Book 7)

by Sarah J. Stone

  “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.