Hunting the Rogues (Shadow Claw Book 8)

by Sarah J. Stone

  “What?”

  “Children born to Dramoon and similar planets had one of the highest birth rates of magic we had ever seen. They were more powerful at birth and with a higher magical ratio than anything else. But the society was so bent on war, on using magic to gain powerful, that it was impossible to work with. They only wanted witches trained as warriors, and wanted intelligence known. We thought we could build a warrior academy…perhaps you would have gone, had we succeeded,” he smiled at Nathaniel. “But it collapsed in on itself and the project was abandoned.”

  “Similar planets?” Nathaniel asked. “Such as Powys?”

  “It's possible,” Desmond said. “But there is only one survivor of Powys to ask that.”

  “Does that mean we are dealing with more than advance weaponry and a threatening civil war?” Nathaniel asked, forgoing conversation about Prada for now. “We could be dealing with a planet full of powerful witches?”

  “Who may or may not show us an alliance,” Desmond said. “They shut off all communication after I left, who knows what they have become.”

  “Huh,” Nathaniel took a moment to take it all in. “That is not what I was expecting you to say.”

  “It's dangerous, which is why you and your Tiro were assigned,” Desmond said.

  “How powerful are they?” Sienna asked, and he turned to her,.

  “Not like you, little one. No one was like you.”

  “Until Prada,” Sienna said.

  “Until Prada,” Desmond answered. “But this is a good opportunity, none the less. If we can succeed, we might be able to unite the universe once more.”

  “And our chances of success” Nathaniel asked.

  “Almost zero,” Desmond said. “They threatened Jeffro more than once, and you know that you need a lot of courage to threaten Jeffro.”

  “Creator,” Nathaniel swore. “This is much bigger than I thought.”

  “And if we don't go, they blow us all up,” Sienna said. “And no one has a chance of surviving.”

  “That was how I heard the story,” Nathaniel answered. “So, the question is, are both of you up for it?”

  “Yes,” they both said without so much as a blink.

  “Well, that was easy,” Nathaniel said. “Now, all I have to do is get Prada to not blow us up beforehand.”

  “Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown,” Desmond said. “When do we leave?”

  “Shortly, I imagine,” Nathaniel said. “Eliza, as usual, has offered so much support in terms of military assistance, but I think it's best we leave those here. We don't want to go in looking like a threat.”

  “How long are the Jurors thinking?” Sienna asked. “I know it sounds odd, to rush in and save the universe...but I need to know when I'll get back.”

  “Is Devon not stable?” Nathaniel asked. She looked away.

  “He is,” she said. “But in case…anyone decides to interfere.”

  “Why would anyone interfere?” he asked her. “Eliza is dedicated to your wishes.”

  “Just in case...” she took a deep breath. “I know that...I know that it might drain Prada's magic for a short time...but could you ask her to try? To heal him? Even a bit?”

  “I can't risk it, love, “ he said. “Not when we're about to walk into a combat zone and we have ...non witches to protect.”

  “Is that what I am?” Sienna asked. “Is that what we are? Just non witches?”

  “You don't have magic,” Desmond said, patiently. “And Nathaniel needs to keep you safe. If Devon is stable, he can wait.”

  “I can't,” she said, but had already resigned herself to know that she had to. “I'll pack.”

  “Make sure you are packed for several weeks,” Nathaniel said, without thinking about it. It was something he used to say to her when she was a child, and she smiled at that.

  “Yes, Maestro,” she said, getting up and leaving them be. When she was gone, Nathaniel turned to Desmond.

  “That boy is dead,” he said, to Desmond. “There is nothing natural happening anymore. It's harsh but…”

  “I know,” Desmond said. “But she hasn't come to terms with that. Because she has resurrection powers, she doesn't quite understand death. She doesn't come to terms with it because she doesn't have to, in her world.”

  “Surely, she understands her own death!” Nathaniel said. Desmond shook his head.

  “But don't you understand what we did to her? How many times we brought her back from death? She has a feeling of immortality.”

  “She knows she can die.”

  “We taught her that she can't,” Desmond said. “That is something that has a lasting effect on a person.”

  Nathaniel closed his eyes.

  “And that's not even beginning to address…Prada.”

  “Your Tiro actually reminds me of the types of Tiros we found on Dramoon,” Desmond said. “Powerful. Angry. Afraid.”

  “Afraid?” Nathaniel asked. “Afraid of what?”

  “Outsiders. Losing their culture. Losing their power. I'd never met a people so afraid of change in that way.”

  “But that's not why Prada is damaged,” Nathaniel said. “Her family was slaughtered. She was terrified. She was tortured.”

  “I'm aware,” Desmond said. “Children on Dramoon and similar cultures were often snatched and sold for their power. Their families, which would have shared their genres of magic, would be taken together, and if they didn't comply, they would have faced terrible lives. Until they were killed.”

  “You think…you think that was her home?”

  “I don't know,” Desmond answered. “But I'm willing to bet it was a similar situation.”

  “Do you think it's safe to bring her there, then?” Nathaniel asked, unsure suddenly of his next move.

  “I think it might bring her some closure,” Desmond said. “Your Tiro is very complicated though, I can't pretend to understand what might be going on in her mind. Only you can.”

  “And I don't get very far on a good day,” Nathaniel said.

  “Part of training your Tiro is exposing them to new situations,” Desmond said. “It has them grow as a witch. And if they can't handle it in training, they won't be able to make it on their own.”

  “Harsh but true,” Nathaniel said. Both of them fell into silence for a while, until Nathaniel decided to change the subject. “How is Mariah?”

  “She is well,” Desmond said. “Surprisingly, understanding about the sudden request. She told me to go without hesitation”

  “Perhaps she wants a break from you,” Nathaniel teased. “That's why Eliza and I have such a relationship. It's easier to take breaks from each other.”

  Desmond cocked an eyebrow.

  “Is it?” he asked. “You don't long to be on that throne with her, yet?”

  “Do you…Prada said something to me today that has stuck,” he said. “She said that when you know your path, you cannot deviate it from it.”

  “That is true,” Desmond said. “She is wise, then.”

  “Well, she may be wise, but right now, she's in trouble,” he said. “What happened with Sienna was not an accident. It wasn't trauma. It was anger. And she will not behave like that on a quest, not if she wants to continue it.”

  “You're doing well, though,” Desmond said. “You have to believe that. You are doing well. You weren't given an easy task in life, Nathaniel, and you have handed it with grace and dignity”

  “So, threatening to ground her for three months is not advisable?” Nathaniel half-joked. But Desmond was serious.

  “Not everyone was meant to be a Tiro,” he said. “You've seen it with Sienna, with my former Tiro Reynolds. They don't all make it to the tests.”

  “That's what the hardest thing about all of this is,” he answered. “She would make the perfect warrior. She would be in the textbooks, go down in history.”

  “As we will,” Desmond said. “And as Sienna will. It's not always a kind thing.”

  “All I can d
o is continue,” Nathaniel said and Desmond agreed.

  “For now,” he said. “And I'm not encouraging you to suddenly give up. But I do think you should keep those things in mind.”

  “Mm.” Nathaniel stood up. “You should get ready to leave. I'll see Eliza about a ship. We came in here on cargo, but I think it's pretty clear that we will need are own vessel…”

  “Just like old times,” Desmond said.

  Except it wasn't like old times, Nathaniel thought as he went down the hall.

  He didn't appreciate scolding Prada, he really didn't. He felt like he spent most of their time together scolding her ,rather than teaching her. She loved magic, she loved fighting, like Sienna had. But it was in a much different way, and it was a way that frightened him often. He felt like her control was slipping through his fingers.

  She wasn't in her room, which bothered him. He closed his eyes, pinging her.

  Prada, he thought, strongly. Even though she didn't answer him, he locked onto her right away.

  She was in the med bay.

  He tore down the hallway, wondering what the hell she was up to.

  What he found sent chills down his spine. She was standing over Devon's medicated body, watching his chest rise and fall. Her back was to him and he spoke quickly.

  “Prada, what are you doing?” he asked, stepping through the door way.

  She turned to him, and to his relief, there was no magic on her hands.

  “I told you to stay in your room.”

  “I'm not going to do it,” she said.

  “What?” he asked. “You're not going to do what?”

  “I'm not going to heal him,” Prada said. “I don't even know if I can, but I'm not going to try.”

  How she knew he wanted to ask didn't bother him. She was so tapped into his thoughts that he often didn't have to form coherent ones in battle.

  “That's not what we're doing right now,” he said. “We're leaving for this quest and we can deal with this when we get back.”

  “But I'm not going to do it,” she said, and he sighed.

  “Why not? Why would you not want to give someone their life back?”

  “Because that's not his path,” she said. “He lived a full life, and he was probably happy when he slipped away. If I bring him back, who knows what horrors he might experience in life? This is his path, and he was not strong enough to survive the world. This is survival of the fittest.”

  “That's…not…” he was at a los for words. “That is not for you to decide, Prada.”

  “They chose their path, Maestro,” she said. “And now they don't want to live it. Just because you saved your Tiro a thousand times over does not meant I should do that same. I don't have to follow your path.”

  “No,” he said. “You do not. But you do have to act with compassion.”

  “I am,” she said. “My choice is compassion. Her choice of keeping him alive is not. I won't do it.”

  He quivered with anger.

  “Prada, you will do what I tell you,” he said. “As your Maestro, I make the choices for you until you take the tests.”

  “I know,” Prada said. “I know.”

  Chapter 6

  “I thought you were staying the night,” Eliza said in surprise, when he went to say goodbye to her. “My love, you must exhausted.”

  “I think even my twenty-year-old self would have been past exhausted at this point,” he replied. “But hopefully, this will be a large lead up with little to no excitement.”

  “Good,” she said. “Because I need you to come back.”

  “Of course, love,” he said, but she gave a little cough to get his attention. “Hmm?”

  “I don't just want you to come back because I love you,” she said. “Although that is a reason.”

  “Why do you want me to come back then?” he asked, thinking she was just teasing.

  “I thought you might fancy being a prince,” she said.

  His jaw dropped.

  “I'm sorry?” he asked. “Eliza? What are you talking about?”

  She sank onto the bed, glancing to make sure her grand bedroom door was closed.

  “Having Sienna and Devon here...seeing Desmond and Mariah, all of them having took such courage for their love...it made me realize that marrying a witch would not be nearly as frowned upon as a mass exodus. My people would not like it...but they would get it over it and accept you. Life is short, and it grows shorter every day. I do not want to waste another day of it.”

  He had nothing to say, sinking onto the bed beside her. “Are you serious? Do you know what I would have to do?”

  “You would have to leave the order,” she said, as if it were matter of fact. “And I would risk my throne and change my bloodline, from Jeffro only to diversify, possibly providing the future Kings of Jeffro with magic, which means they could not sit on the throne. I am aware,” she said. “But I'd like to do it, anyways. If you would.”

  He put a hand up to her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. She was so beautiful, with plump pink lips, perfect skin, and long blond hair that he loved to tangle his hands in. He had loved her since the moment he met her. What baffled him was he always thought that they were on the same page. Some days, they talked about this wishfully, and some days they talked about knowing it could never happened. They had long ago decided that they weren't going to take this route any time soon and probably not ever.

  “I know you know it's time. It's now or never. If we want to have children, we don't have much time.”

  “I know,” he said. “I know. I just...I can't decide right now. And Prada has another three years on her training…”

  “Three years will be too late,” she said.

  “I know.” He buried his head in his hands. “Oh, Eliza, my love. I want to say yes so badly. But...”

  “Go,” she said. “Go on your quest, whatever you decide will not affect that. You have a universe to save.”

  “I always have a universe to save.” He stood up, kissing her on the head. “But I promise you I will be back soon, one way or another.”

  “I love you,” she whispered to him.

  “I love you, too,” he said, taking every ounce of willpower to leave the room.

  His head was spinning as he met the others in the hanger. He tried to put on a serene face, but Desmond knew right away that there was something wrong.

  “Should we discuss it?”

  “Nope,” Nathaniel said. “Not unless you want Prada to screech the whole trip and Sienna to talk about fairy tales”

  “Works for me,” Desmond answered, indicating the gangplank. “Think of food.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “If you think of food, they won't dive any deeper into your thoughts,” he said, and Nathaniel managed a smile.

  “That's your trick, is it?” Nathaniel asked.

  “Works every time,” Desmond said, as the gangplank came up. “I've told Sienna that she should start the IVs to block her magic from the wound, but she doesn't seem to want to.”

  “I'd really prefer she be strong for this,” Nathaniel said. “But she's not our Tiro anymore. We can't force her into anything.”

  “You can ask her, though,” Desmond said. Nathaniel sighed.

  “Perhaps right now, I'll just make sure she and Prada don't kill each other,” he said. “Prada's a decent pilot, so I'll see if she wants to take over for now. I'm exhausted, by the way.”

  “Did you come in today?” Desmond asked.

  “We did, and it wasn't the easiest journey. But when you have a one Maestro to Tiro ratio, you don't have time off.”

  “Call me if you need me,” Desmond said. “I'll remind you that I'm just a consultant on this.”

  “Thank you, Maestro,” Nathaniel rolled his eyes as he went to find his Tiro.

  It was another twelve hours to Dramoon, and he was grateful for the fact that he knew Desmond could pilot, as well as the fact that most of the approach to Dramoon was easy flying. />
  Prada was up front, already in the pilot's seat. He didn't say anything to her as he sank into the co-pilot's seat, checking her navigation route. As usual, it was spot on.

  She was so smart, and such a perfectionist. Her value came in more than just brute strength. She would make one of the best witches there ever had been, if she could learn control.

  “It's fine,” he said, to her silent demeanor. “You can lock it in.”

  She began the process of locking the ship down, and making sure everyone was inside before she began take off. He barely needed to touch the controls, leaning back as they went into hyperspace.

  Only when they were cruising did he speak.

  “You can't do that again,” he said to her.

  “Do what?” Prada asked, playing innocent

  “Hurt Sienna. Or hurt anyone who is unharmed. That's a cardinal sin, Prada, and you know it. You can never use your magic for such causes , unless you want to cross the line.”

  “You spent ten years training a Tiro who amounted to nothing,” Prada said to him., staring ahead at the space flashed by. “And now my training is affected by her still.”

  “Your training is not affected by her,” Nathaniel said. “I am telling you not to harm the defenseless.”

  “But she is not defenseless,” Prada said. “Is she?”

  “No,” Nathaniel said quietly, trying to understand where she was coming from. “She wasn't. But she had chosen a different life, and so she is right now. I don't want an argument about it. It's simply unthinkable that you would argue this.”

  “I was defenseless when my family was slaughtered around me,” she said. “How can defend the universe if we operate on a different perspective from them?”

  “Because we do not stoop to the lowest common denominator,” he answered. “There are thieves in this world, but it does not mean we shouldn't pay for our meals. We are not murders, we are not soldiers. We are the defenders, the peace keepers, the voices for those who cannot speak for themselves.”

  “Ironic, isn't it?” Prada asked him, and he saw a glimpse into her soul at that moment. Here, alone with him, she was free, safe, confident.

  If he chose to marry Eliza, he would take all of that away from her.

  Unless she could find a path that she felt just as safe on.