“No, it's all right,” he said. “Food sounds lovely. Come on, Prada, it will taste better than anything we've had on the plane. A moment of normalcy, and then we can work, I promise.”
We are here for the quest, Prada said back to him, although she did follow him on the way out of the throne room. Nothing more.
Stop, he warned her, his mind half-distracted. Normally, he'd be thrilled to have dinner with Eliza. But despite his attempts at normal conversation, he couldn't seem to connect with her over the noise of Prada's thoughts. Eliza seemed to understand this, and understand that she was secondary to their reason for being here. Nathaniel wanted to promise that he would see her that night, but he wasn't sure he would. He had so many questions for his former Tiro, and he wasn't sure where they would lead.
“Why her?” Prada asked him, as they walked down the hall to find Sienna's rooms. As a Baroness, she was afforded some grand rooms, with outer chambers, and enough space for almost an entire army to take up residence.
“Why Eliza?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“Yes,” she said. “How did you know?”
It was an oddly tender moment.
“You just…know,” he replied. “You know your path, and once you know it...you can't deviate it from it. Even if you want to.”
“Do you want to?”
“Prada…” he said, unsure of whether she was able to handle such a mature view. “You know as well as I do that my relationship with Eliza is not exactly smiled upon by the Order. My Maestro was cast out for such behavior It's not a light matter.”
“I know,” she replied. “But if you know your path, you must follow it. Forcing someone off their path does not bode well.”
“I—” It was a surprisingly mature answer, and he wasn't prepared for it. She said no more, as he knocked on Sienna's grand door.
“Hi,” she pulled the door open, almost as if waiting for them. He raised an eyebrow
“How did you know we were here?”
“I was just about to leave, actually,” she said. “But you want to talk?”
“I do,” Nathaniel answered. “And you better sit down.”
“Oh?” she replied, leading them into her inner chambers. “Why? Have you come to ask me to rejoin the order?
Nathaniel winced, glancing to Prada. Sienna' s jaw dropped.
“What?”
“Not quite,” Nathaniel answered. “But we do need your help.”
Sienna took the request fairly well, given the surprising turn of events. She looked calm, which Nathaniel was proud of her for. She was once so nervous by every moment. Now, she took his news with grace, nodding.
“Of course,” she said. “I'm probably one of the only people who could do it. It'd be a challenge.”
“You are happy to work with them, then?”
“I am,” she answered. “We chose to leave them, remember? I harbor only good feelings, and memories. There's no harshness, no anger.”
“As we taught you,” he said proudly. “And speaking of we, do you know where Desmond is?”
“Do they want him, too?” she asked in surprise
“Apparently, Desmond spent two years on Dramoon, before either of us,” Nathaniel said. “And with it being so remote, there are very few experts in the field.”
“Huh,” she answered. “I didn't know that.”
“I don't think many people did,” Nathaniel said. “He kept it from all of us. I can only guess what he saw there, to never speak of it again.”
“But I never saw it in his mind...” Sienna started and Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.
“Were you supposed to be looking?”
“No.” She flushed, like she was still a school child, and then looked to Prada. “Does he yell at you like that, too?”
Prada tensed, and Nathaniel half hoped that she would answer her, just out of spite. But she said nothing, instead looking to her Maestro for help.
“It's okay,” Nathaniel tried to assure her. “Sienna understands where you are coming from.”
No, Prada rose defiantly, her face turning red. She does not.
“You can go,” Nathaniel didn't want to start a fight with her here and now. “You're tired, get some rest.”
His defiant Tiro didn't need telling twice. She stormed out of the room, leaving Nathaniel and Sienna alone in the echoing walls.
“Was I that difficult?” she asked him.
“You were…a different challenge,” he said. “But not one I regret.”
“Do you regret it with her?”
“I don't,” he said, sighing. “It's just as you said, difficult. And this quest is going to be above all that we've ever had. Do you know where Desmond is?”
“I do,” she said. “And it should be easy to get into contact with him. He's not too far away.”
“I'm not surprised he kept a close eye on you,” Nathaniel said. “Do you ask him about how to manage your magic?”
She grew pale at that. “What are you talking about? I'm blocked, I can't—”
“Sienna, it is no surprise to me that I was the stricter of the two of us,” he said. “And that I would not be the one you came to when you wanted to walk a gray line of using magic that you know might kill you. You've gotten good at hiding it, though, I couldn't detect it when we first met.”
“How did you know?” she asked quietly.
“You can hear my bond with Prada,” he said. “Which means you have found a way to use it at full strength.”
“Not all the time,” she said softly. “Just when Devon needs it.”
He softened. “Is he not well?”
“He'll die without my magic, Nathaniel,” she cried.
“And you'll die with it, little one,” he answered.
“We have left the Order and he is without a cure. Tell me, what option do I have?” she asked. “What if it was Eliza?”
“I would find a way,” he admitted. “But there has to be a way here, without you killing yourself.”
“There's never been a witch more powerful than me,” she said. “No one could heal like I did. No one can even dream of resurrection”
He paused.
“Prada could,” he said. “If her power doesn't destroy her we may be able to figure out a way to save both of you. However, if Dramoon declares war on all of us, there's no point in anyone being saved.”
“Of course, I will help,” Sienna said. “I just I need Devon to be all right.”
“I understand love, Sienna,” he said. “We will do what we can.”
Chapter 4
“Can you get away tonight?” Eliza asked Nathaniel quietly, that night as the official dinner feast ended. He hadn't eaten much, waiting for Sienna to tell him she'd made contact with the secretive Desmond. It wasn't that he was on bad terms with Desmond. His former Maestro checked in frequently. But he also enjoyed a quiet life far away from his old life.
“Yes,” Nathaniel said. “Prada's reasonably independent. But she isn't the most stable with her magic.”
“We'll be close by,” Eliza wiggled her eyebrows. “And awake.”
“Mm,” he said, reaching for a drink. “If I can keep my eyes open. We're not as young as we once were.”
Eliza ducked her head at that. “Speak for yourself,” she said. “Have you been to see Devon yet?”
“No?” Nathaniel asked. “Sienna keeps putting it off. I know he's been sick but…”
Eliza's eyes widened.
“Is that what she told you?”
Nathaniel felt himself grow pale.
“What is the truth?”
Eliza looked from side to side and then lowered her voice even more.
“Devon hasn't been conscious in nearly 6 months,” she said. “He slipped into a coma and we cannot bring him back. Truthfully, we...shouldn't be bringing him back, he's progressed far father than we can manage in this day and age. But she won't let him go.”
“Oh, Creator.” Nathaniel put a hand to his mouth. “That's wh
y her magic is active.”
“Her magic is active?” Eliza asked, in shock. “But…”
“She's keeping it a secret,” Nathaniel replied. “She admitted to trying to heal him, but I didn't realize. She didn't tell me until I caught her. Creator.”
“I'm sorry,” Eliza apologized. “I should have been watching her closer. I thought you knew, and it wasn't my place to tell you. I—”
“It's not your fault,” Nathaniel answered. “But all of this is starting to make sense, at last. I thought he was all right, or at least getting along. Has she been sick?”
Eliza thought for a moment. “Not…maybe. If she's been keeping it a secret, she's very good at it. I've noticed a few things, but she's been working hard, and away. Ah.” She shook her head. “I'm sorry. I feel like I failed you on that front.”
“My love, you haven't,” he said, knowing exactly what she was feeling. Eliza felt like she had taken custody of them, all those years ago. “But I will speak to her.”
“Speak of the devil,” Eliza said, as Sienna entered the feast hall quietly. A few bowed to the new baroness, but most continued eating, as she approached, crouching down between Nathaniel and Eliza.
“He'll be here in an hour or so,” Sienna said. “He didn't react much when I told him about Dramoon, but…he's coming.”
“He was close then,” Nathaniel said and Sienna smiled.
“He was just on Teranon.”
“Teranon?” Nathaniel raised an eyebrow, a planet half an hour away. “Really?”
“He and Mariah were on vacation at the beach,” Sienna said. “Do you want to see him right away?”
“There's something I'd rather see first, little one,” he said. “Eliza has told me just where Devon is.”
Sienna actually took a step back and her eyes clouded.
“He's all right,” she said, and Nathaniel reached a hand out to touch her arm. Prada didn't miss the connection—the one she didn't have with her Maestro.
“He's not all right,” he said. “Do you want to take me to him?”
“No,” she said, although she had already decided that she would take him. Nathaniel rose, and Prada quickly joined his side.
They followed Sienna down long hallways , and into the Jeffro medical bay.
In the back, in a private room, lay a shadow of what Sienna's love used to be.
He was so thin he was practically skeletal, machines hooked up to every available space. A quick scan of the body told Nathaniel that Devon was not alive on his own. There were machines breathing for him, pumping his heart, flowing his blood through his veins
Medical science had come so far, done so much. But they were not immortal, not yet, and perhaps not ever.
“He can hear you,” Sienna said, sitting quietly on the bed beside him and holding his hand. She squeezed, and brushed some hair away from her lover's face. “If you want to say hello.”
Nathaniel paused, unsure of what to say.
Is he dead? Prada asked him, her face expressionless.
“No!” Sienna snapped, turning around. Prada looked positively terrified at that reaction, turning to her Maestro in shock. As far as Nathaniel was aware, there was no one outside of him that Prada had ever communicated with words since the destruction of her planet. Her trauma kicked in, the fear of speaking to anyone else throttled by the fact that she had. She went pale, her hands suddenly clenching at her side.
He knew that she couldn't control it. He knew she was powerless when her brain went into the vacuum of terror.
“Prada,” he said. “Prada, it's all right. It's all right. I need you to calm down.”
Magic played across her hands, as rage filled her. This invasion of privacy was such a shock, such terror, that her magic wouldn't stay in the rational part of her brain.
“Sienna, get down,” Nathaniel cried, and she ducked against Devon's body as Prada's magic shot from her finger tips.
He was able to block it twice before it did damage, blasting a whole in the medical bay wall.
He grabbed onto her wrists, pulling her to the ground quickly.
“Prada, STOP,” he cried, and at last, she managed to comply. Her breath came in gasps, and her eyes cleared. “She did not mean to liste , Prada, but what you said was rude. Do you understand?”
Prada glared at her, but he could see that she was under control.
And that was why he knew it was out of pure anger that she shot magic from her left hand as she got up. Sienna had no means to block it, and it tore in her upper arm, a shriek coming from her.
Nathaniel was aghast at this. He had seen her behave in anger and spite. But to intentionally wound someone defenseless, it was shocking.
“Get out,” he growled at his Tiro. “You will go straight to your rooms and you will wait for me. And if you dare disobey me, you will find yourself off this quest. Do you understand me?”
She didn't need telling twice, and rushed outs of the room. Nathaniel was shaking in shock, and in anger, but he tried to calm down enough to turn to Sienna.
“Are you all right, little one?” he asked, and she nodded, even though a tear traced down her cheek and she clung to her arm in pain.
He went to her, noticing that she had not let go of Devon's hand.
Ten years ago, he never imagined that it would have come to this. This was a nightmare scenario to be in, when it seemed everyone around him was in the wrong place.
“That exposure to magic is going to make you sick,” he said, as he looked at the depth of the wound and how much she had absorbed. “You are going to need an extra IV or two.”
“No,” Sienna said. “It's taken me five months just to get a level of magic back in my blood at all. The medication had such a long half-life that…”
“That you were quite healthy for a while,” he said. “Long enough to forget that it was killing you beforehand.”
“It's not like that…” she said. “I have to do this, Nathaniel. I've survived resurrection before.”
“And what if you don't survive it?” he asked. “And Devon awakes to find you dead? Have you thought of that?”
“She can do it, can't she?” Sienna asked. “That magic…she really can do it.”
“She can,” Nathaniel said. “It's whether she will or not. It's not been easy, as you have noticed.”
“Mm.” She didn't seem to care about her wound, checking on Devon's vitals. “Can't you make her? You're her Maestro.”
“The magical order does not take kindly on resurrection,” Nathaniel said. “We are not meant to play Creator, you are aware.”
“The magical order did not take kindly to me,” she cried. “And I didn't succeed, but we made strides, didn't we?”
“We did,” Nathaniel answered. “But this isn't a case of healing. If Prada did it, she could risk her life. And she is so powerful that…”
“That you wouldn't risk losing her,” Sienna answered. “Even for me.”
“If it was for you, little one, it would be in an instant,” he tried to assure her. “You were my first Tiro, I have a duty to protect you before the others.”
“Devon is a piece of me,” she said. “And if Dramoon blows this universe apart, I'm not sure it will matter in my heart without him.”
He said nothing for a long time, putting a hand on her shoulder. In the silence, the only thing left to hear was the beeping of the machines.
“Have you told Laura?” Nathaniel asked. Sienna shook her head.
“She's starting to ask, though. I can't put her off forever, she's his old Maestro. But she would know if he was gone, wouldn't she? She would feel it. He's not gone. He's still in there.”
Nathaniel considered that fact.
“Possibly. It depends how far the bond has gone,” he said. “You are always connected in some way.”
“Until death,” she said. “And he's still in there, I know he is.”
“We did teach you to never give up,” said a deep voice, and Nathaniel spun around to see
Desmond standing at the door at long last.
It had been a few years since he had seen his old Maestro in the flesh. A bit grayer, with a few more wrinkles, Desmond still looked dignified, tall and imposing.
“Maestro!” Sienna said, flying off the bed to give him a hug. He put his arms around her, relaxing as he looked over her shoulder to Nathaniel. “I've missed you.”
“I've missed you both, too,” Desmond answered “But it seems that you've both gotten into quite a mess, haven't you?”
“Aren't we always in a mess?” Nathaniel asked. “The hole on the wall is courtesy of my Tiro, in case you are wondering.”
“Lovely.” Desmond glanced up at the wall, and then down at Sienna. Her wound was cauterized, but it must have hurt something fierce. “We need to find you a medic.”
“It's fine.,” Sienna said. “But we need you to help save the universe.”
“As usual,” Desmond said with a smile. “Sit down then. Hello, Devon.”
He had been here before, Nathaniel could tell. Whether or not Sienna was aware of the fact that he knew everything remained to be seen. But he knew Devon's state, even as he guided her slowly back to the bed.
“I think this may be a good time to admit,” Nathaniel said with no shame. “That I'm so glad you're here and I have no idea what I'm doing.”
“Somethings never change,” Desmond answered with a small smile. “You are an adult, now, Nathaniel, you've been one for a while.”
“Yes,” Nathaniel said. “But if you could yell at my Tiro, save Dramoon and the universe, and make our former Tiro smile again, I'd be forever grateful”
“How about,” Desmond said with a smile. “We start with a cup of tea and a chat? Sienna?”
She nodded, her shoulders relaxed. In between her Maestros again, she was transported back to her childhood. She finally felt at home.
Chapter 5
“I'm not opposed to the work,” Desmond said. “But Dramoon is not a place for the faint of heart. They are so far from any civilization that any of us have every encountered.”
“What did you do there?” Nathaniel asked. “And when did you go? None of us knew anything about it.”
Desmond took a deep breath.
“I was trying to start another school,” he said, and Nathaniel's jaw dropped.
Hunting the Rogues (Shadow Claw Book 8) Page 68
