Dangerous Data (The Meridian Crew Book 2)

by Blake B. Rivers

  “You will call me if you need anything,” he said to her. “Please.”

  “I will, but I will be fine,” she assured him. “You just be careful.”

  “I will,” he replied. “We will be back before you know it.”

  Her arm was in his, and her hand brushed his. He wished he could hold her close here and now, but there were hundreds of eyes on them. Everyone knew witches weren't supposed to fall in love.

  ‘Who knows what they think of Nathaniel and Eliza?’ Desmond thought. It took all his strength to eventually pull away from Mariah and head back down the platform steps, Sienna at his side.

  He noted that she stayed close out of physical need, but not necessarily out of emotional need. She used his body to dodge the people around her, but she didn't look around for his comfort.

  She was already so different from Nathaniel, and he wondered whether he would get the chance to learn more about her. He prayed to the magic that he would get a few more years, if nothing else.

  Nathaniel met them in the hallway, practically bouncing on his heels.

  “No messages,” he said, their rucksacks at his feet. “Let's go.”

  “You need to hold on a moment,” Desmond said as he picked up his rucksack and gave Sienna hers. Witches needed to pack minimally; they were taught to live off the land. However, her circumstances were obviously different. “We will gain nothing with all of our energy wasted at the beginning.”

  “I've got a smaller ship on standby for us,” he said. “It’s an open top, but there's enough room for the three of us. Four, if we find her. It's faster than walking.”

  “Open top does not give us coverage if we are fired upon,” Desmond pointed out.

  “Well, it's what we have,” Nathaniel replied. “So, we will have to be the coverage.”

  Desmond sighed, glancing down at Sienna. He thought about transferring all the information to her, but there wasn't time. Nathaniel was right. They had already been delayed twelve hours too long. No one had slept much preparing for this, none of them being particularly good at naps. Now, they didn't know when they would see sleep again.

  “All right,” Desmond replied. “Let's go.”

  Nathaniel practically sprinted off down the hallway. Desmond could feel his thoughts and his distractions. This was exactly why they weren't supposed to form attachments; it could lead to distraction, and distraction could lead to death. However, Desmond knew he would be doing the exact same thing if it was Mariah.

  “That one,” Nathaniel said, when they came to a long, brown ship, open on top. There was a small trunk and four seats. Sienna went for the back, but Desmond redirected her.

  “No,” he said, pointing to the front. “You watch Nathaniel and learn.”

  She paused and then shrugged, clambering into the front seat. Nathaniel took the steering wheel, and Desmond got into the back, leaning against the seat.

  “It's nice to be chauffeured around,” Desmond said, and Nathaniel rolled his eyes.

  “And you tell me not to make jokes, Maestro,” he said.

  “It wasn't a joke,” Desmond said as Nathaniel started the engine. “I was telling the truth.”

  “Wonderful,” Nathaniel replied as he made sure all the systems were online. The hangar was open, and security was clear of the door. With their queen missing in action, security had of course been upped. However, no one knew exactly what to do. They were exhausted after searching for sixteen hours straight, and no one had a new plan. Waiting was the worst part of any search.

  “Do you know where you are going?” Desmond asked as they began to navigate through the busy air. Outside, things were normal. The news of Eliza's disappearance had not managed to reach the civilians. However, Desmond knew it wouldn't be long before it did. Eliza appeared to her people every day or two. If this went on much longer, they would notice her absence.

  “I already keyed the coordinates in,” Nathaniel said as he focused ahead.

  “Show Sienna how to do that,” Desmond said.

  “We don't have time, Desmond,” Nathaniel replied. In response, Desmond leaned forward and touched the navigation system. The directions came up, and he promptly deleted them.

  “What are you doing?” Nathaniel howled him. “After I get off the main highway, I have no idea what to do!”

  “What's the name of the farm?” Desmond asked.

  “Richmond Farms,” Nathaniel was seething at him.

  “Sienna,” Desmond placed a hand on her bony shoulder. “Richmond Farms. Can you do it?”

  She turned to look at him, and then silently turned to the navigation screen. The language set was Basic, but she saw the Jeffro button and changed it.

  “We don't have time for this,” Nathaniel repeated. “If I miss this turn off–”

  “There is always time for lessons,” Desmond replied, cutting him off. “Stay calm and focus on teaching her how to do it, or she will never learn.”

  “Desmond, this is life or death,” Nathaniel snapped.

  “And this is when you learned the most, if you recall,” Desmond responded.

  Nathaniel said nothing to that, setting his jaw. But eventually, he turned to glance at the screen where Sienna was keying in the name of the farm. Her hands paused, and he indicated the green button.

  “Here,” he said, trying not to scream at her. He resented this moment, but Desmond was right. However, his calmness only lasted a moment when the system told him to make a U-turn. “Argh, I told you. This traffic is ridiculous. Now I have to find a place to turn around in this line.”

  “Which will take a moment,” Desmond said as Nathaniel made a breakneck turn that made Sienna scream. He kept his hand on her shoulder. “But it was worth the lesson, I think.”

  Nathaniel stayed quiet, focusing on the path ahead. He was afraid of saying anything else for fear that he would snap.

  They got off the highway and turned onto quieter airways. Soon, they were out of the city and cruising past the open farms. The air was cleaner right away, and the atmosphere was less noisy. Nathaniel shifted into autopilot, letting the system take over now that he didn't have to dodge a ship every few moments. He took his hands away from the steering wheel and took a deep breath. Closing his eyes, he reached out to nature, looking for any sign of Eliza, any memory of her that he could glean.

  But there was nothing. Any magic pings he put out weren't answered.

  “We'll find her,” Desmond said after a moment. “We've never failed at search and rescues.”

  “Not all of them were alive,” Nathaniel pointed out, and Desmond couldn't argue with that fact. Half the time with quests like this, their subjects were dead and cold.

  Sienna broke the mood with the rustle of a ration from her pack. Nathaniel reached over, opening the packet and handing it back to her without another word.

  “Whoever kidnapped her will be tried at the Intergalactic Court,” Nathaniel said after a few moments. “This is a case we will be on for a while.”

  “We've testified at the Intergalactic Court before,” Desmond said. “If that's what we have to do, then we will do it, even if it takes months.”

  “I should have been there,” Nathaniel said, shaking his head. “I should have sensed it, I should have felt it.”

  “We can't blame ourselves for the past,” Desmond answered. “You know that. We can only affect the future.”

  “Still, if I hadn't been distracted–”

  “Nathaniel!” Desmond snapped, knowing what was coming. Sienna's head shot up. “You will not say another word.”

  Nathaniel took the warning, and tried not to glare at Sienna. He knew he was being a child, but he didn't care. If he had been with Eliza, he could have protected her. She would still be with him; he was sure of it.

  The farm eventually came into view, and he took the ship off autopilot, bringing them down. He always had trouble with landings. Take off and cruising was easy, but landing, he felt, was like playing chess with his eyes closed. Even w
ith all the advanced technology, he still felt like he had to guess about the ground under him.

  Of course, there was technology that did everything automatically; but he didn't trust it. Desmond and Sienna's lives were in his hands, and he'd rather it be a bumpy landing that a computer error that ended in disaster.

  “Here we are,” he said as the systems shut down. “Leave your rucksack here, Sienna.”

  Nathaniel twisted his wrist, which Desmond knew was his way of storing up magic. He didn't approve of it, the equivalent of a knight drawing his sword. But every witch had their own way of preparing for negotiations. Nathaniel's, it seemed, just involved being a warrior to the core. He was his own person now, Desmond tried to remember as he helped Sienna out. His choices were his own, and it was time to let him sink or swim.

  Chapter 13

  The farm was startlingly quiet. All around them, the birds chirped, and the bugs buzzed. It was so different from the city noise that they used. It was as if they had stepped into another time.

  There was no sign of life anywhere outside of the animals. Nathaniel spun around then moved toward a path on the left.

  “I think there's a farm house this way,” he said. “I saw it on the map.”

  “What's your strategy?” Desmond asked him. “Your magic stores are enough to blow that house to the ground.”

  “If that's what I have to do,” Nathaniel answered, stalking down the path. Sienna kept pace with him, looking around constantly.

  Suddenly, there was a voice to the left.

  “Ahoy!”

  They all spun around to see a purple alien crawling down the tree. He was dressed in blue overalls and had a piece of his fruit in his hand.

  He spoke rapidly to them in Jeffroian, and Sienna stepped forward. She looked back to her Maestros, and Desmond put his hand on her shoulder again.

  ‘Ask him if he's in charge,’ he thought, and Sienna turned back to the alien.

  ‘No,’ she said, after a moment. ‘He just works here. His boss is up at the farm house.’

  “Ask him about Eliza,” Nathaniel snapped, and Sienna understood enough to speak.

  ‘He hasn't seen the queen here,’ she thought. Nathaniel reached out to the alien's mind, but he didn't sense any lies from him. Normally, when someone was lying, their heart rate rose and their pupils dilated. This alien just looked confused.

  “Let's head toward the farm house then,” Nathaniel said at last. They nodded their thanks to the alien and started toward the farmhouse, constantly aware of their surroundings. Now that they were closer to the main path, they could see more fruit pickers hanging off the trees and throwing fruit into the baskets. Some of them smiled, and one of them juggled a few apples, making Sienna smile. He threw one at her, clearly meaning for her to eat it. She pulled back in time, and Nathaniel caught it.

  ‘I can?’ she thought and he shook his head.

  ‘Not nice to refuse,’ he thought briefly, as they came to the door of the farm house. It was red, with a blue door, and the paint looked as if it was as old as Nathaniel. Taking a deep breath, Nathaniel reached up and knocked on the door.

  There was no answer.

  Nathaniel pounded harder on the door, opening his fist and banging on it.

  “Hello! HELLO!” he cried through the door. There was still no answer.

  Just as Nathaniel was about to break it down, someone opened the door. It looked like an older version of the fruit picking aliens, with his antennas going grey and his mouth tired. He raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Ask him if anyone else is here,’ Nathaniel thought rapidly at Sienna. ‘Tell him we have been commissioned by the queen to search all farms.’

  It frightened her how angry he was, and she tried to put a nice spin on things. The alien raised an eyebrow and then stepped back, his arms open.

  “Yes,” Sienna said, stepping forward. Nathaniel was surprised because he had expected more of a fight. The farmer seemed completely open to them searching.

  The farm house was three levels, and Desmond and Nathaniel split them up. Sienna stuck to Desmond's side as they inspected every nook and cranny. Desmond sent out magical pings for Eliza's signature, but there was nothing.

  It was rapidly becoming obvious that she wasn't there. Desmond knew that the chance of finding her on the first farm out of so many was unlikely. Even though he knew Nathaniel was aware of the fact, he expected him to search harder.

  He did not expect him to grab the alien by the coveralls and practically scream in his face.

  “Are you sure no one is here? Are you certain?”

  “Nathaniel!” Desmond cried, reaching out and pulling him back. Nathaniel didn't struggle, but he was clearly seething. “What has gotten into you?”

  “How do we know she's not here?” Nathaniel asked. “How do we know she isn't just well hidden? Magic can hide those things, Desmond. Magic can–”

  “She isn't here,” Desmond told him, and Nathaniel held his gaze for a long moment. Finally, he dropped his shoulders. Like a good witch, he turned back to the alien.

  “I'm sorry,” he said. “Sienna, apologize to him for me.”

  “He…understands,” she said at last, judging by the look on the alien's face. “Just speak slowly.”

  “I'm sorry,” Nathaniel said again. “Long day.”

  The alien nodded his head and indicated that they should probably leave if they were ready. Nathaniel slouched out, his hands in his pocket.

  His head was whirling as he calculated his next move. “We can probably do nine more farms today before we lose the light,” Nathaniel said as they walked back to the ship. “I feel like we aren't doing all that we can.”

  “Nathaniel, I am open to doing more,” Desmond replied, “but you have to come up with what that is. I am out of ideas. This is how our search and rescue quests go. We go off our best theories and hope that we either find them or come up with a better theory.”

  “Call Mariah,” Nathaniel said at last. “See if there is news.”

  “She would call me if there was news,” Desmond assured him. “Give the next coordinates to Sienna, and we will be on our way.”

  Nathaniel heaved a giant sigh, but he obeyed. He handed her the map, pointing to the spot he had marked off. This was going to be a very long day, and they weren't even in the middle of it.

  The next farm proved to be a failure, and the one after that as well. At each one, they found the same thing. Friendly fruit pickers, an old man farmer, and an empty farm house.

  By the time the sun set, Nathaniel was ready to crack in the door.

  “She's not at any of these,” he cried to Desmond as they made their way back to the ship. “I think we're on the wrong trail. Every moment that slips by, Desmond, we are losing our chance.”

  “I think we need to take the night, regroup, and clear our heads,” Desmond said as they climbed in. “You know as well as I do that a clouded head does no good.”

  “Argh!” Nathaniel practically slammed the steering wheel. Sienna jumped, leaning away from him. Desmond waited patiently for his rage to end.

  “There is an inn not too far from here,” he said when Nathaniel's breathing had slowed. “We can get a good night's rest, contact the palace, and see what the situation is.”

  “I don't think that…” Nathaniel started, then shook his head and put the ship in gear. “Forget it.”

  ‘Why would they take her?’ Sienna pushed her thoughts to Desmond, who shrugged. He spoke in Basic, but he made sure to keep contact with her, just in case.

  “There are many reasons why someone would take a queen,” he answered. “They could be angry at her and want her dead. But it is unlikely that Eliza is dead, seeing as they kidnapped her and did not assassinate her. More likely, they want something out of holding her. Money, freedom, any number of reasons.”

  “This has occurred?” she asked, and Desmond paused.

  “It's already…oh! Before?” he asked her, and she nodded. “No, I don't–”


  “Wait,” Nathaniel said, listening to the conversation. “This has happened before.”

  “What?” Desmond asked him. “You just thought to bring that to light?”

  “I didn't think of it before,” Nathaniel answered. “We weren't here; it was years ago. She only told me about it. Eliza had just taken the throne maybe a few weeks before, and she was taken from her very gardens. It's why the gardens got redesigned – to provide better vantage points.”

  “Who took her then?” Desmond asked.

  “It was a cousin who objected to her inheriting the throne,” Nathaniel replied. “But that cousin and that line is dead. Eliza made sure of it.”

  “Did she?” Desmond questioned. Nathaniel set his jaw.

  “We have to contact the palace,” he replied. “As soon as we get to the inn and can have a private room, I can reach out to them and see what they can trace. I know she had them killed, though.”

  “Her own family?” Desmond asked him. Nathaniel shrugged.

  “Eliza will do anything to protect her throne and her rule,” he said. “She's very…determined.” He said it with a smile, as it was one of the facts that he loved about her. She would do anything to protect what she loved. Despite the fact that her very attitude on such matters had kept them apart, he admired it. She was dedicated and committed to her cause, as he was to his.

  The only slip up came in their love for each other, and it was a mutual feeling.

  He found the inn nestled in the countryside easily enough. It was clearly meant for weary travelers who just wanted a good drink and a bed to sleep in. The quality wasn't the best, but the witches weren't supposed to be interested in quality. Their minimalist lifestyle meant that they could sleep outside and be comfortable if they needed to be.

  Inside, the bottom floor was a tavern, and it was busy. The innkeeper looked run off his feet and seemed a bit annoyed with new visitors. Desmond went to inquire about rooms, while Nathaniel snagged a table with Sienna. Her eyes were wide as she looked around, having clearly never been to such a place.

  There was noise everywhere – people laughing and talking, boisterous and also more than a little drunk. She watched the bottles of alcohol go by on trays, and the steaming hot food following. Desmond eventually settled beside them.