“Halifax Piers are well-equipped medically,” he said. “Eliza had that in mind, at least. She's angry about that part the most.”
“Of course,” Desmond said with a soft smile. “Just as Mariah used to get when she thought I mistreated you.”
“Mistreated?” Nathaniel was shocked. “I was never mistreated by you.”
“I know that, and you know that,” Desmond replied. “But you'd go to Mariah with your lip stuck out, and suddenly, I was in trouble.”
“I…,” Nathaniel paused and then managed a smile. “I suppose I may have done that once or twice.”
“Or three or four hundred times,” Desmond rolled his eyes with a smile. “Now you know what it's like. Eliza won't stay mad forever. It will be fine. It always is with the two of you.”
“Are you sure?” Nathaniel asked. “Because I'm not.”
“Go on board and set the coordinates,” Desmond answered. “These are just medical supplies and rations. As soon as they are set, I'll join you.”
“Right,” Nathaniel took a deep breath, looking around. “It seems odd to be leaving after so long. It was starting to feel like home.”
“Where is home?” Desmond answered, trying to prompt into an old adage.
“Magic,” Nathaniel said half-heartedly as he boarded the vessel.
Desmond was about to follow a moment later, the last of the boxes put aboard, when he sensed Mariah's presence.
Unlike Eliza, she understood completely why they had to go. She understood why Sybil had asked her to not to come, and she didn't protest when Desmond announced how soon they were leaving. She was worried–that much was clear–‘but not clouded with emotion. Now, she approached Desmond carefully, navigating the busy hangar.
They had already spent the night saying goodbye, but he was grateful for the last minute send off. He memorized every aspect of her face as she approached, burning it into his mind's eye. He never wanted to forget how she made him feel, how beautiful he felt her very soul was.
“Can you give this to Sybil when you see her?” Mariah held out a small, velvet bag, reaching for his strong hand.
“Of course,” Desmond answered. “What is it?”
“Quartz,” Mariah said, naming the most powerful of the witch crystals. Quartz would allow them to draw instant power no matter where they were. They could be seven feet underground in caves that had never seen the light of day and still draw magic from quartz as if they were in a majestic garden. “I want her to have a little bit extra of luck…just in case.”
“I'm sure she won't need it,” Desmond assured her, but slipped it in his pocket all the same.
“Please take care of her,” Mariah touched his arm. “She and Kierry can be so reckless sometimes. I know what they are up against.”
“As if they were my own Tiros,” Desmond assured her. “You will be reunited with her, I promise.”
“Take care of yourself as well,” Mariah replied. “This can't be easy, especially if I'm right about Sybil's plan. If she finds him, she likely doesn't intend to bring him in front of the Jurors. You and I both know that won't do any good.”
Desmond took a deep breath. “I know,” he answered. “She will do what is necessary, and I will accept it. We are just going to protect her, Mariah, to aid her. My priority is the quest she is on.”
“But your heart is with Reynolds,” Mariah answered.
“Do you not know me as a witch?” Desmond answered. “You know I would never betray–”
“I know you won't externally,” Mariah answered. “But I know your heart is torn. Just remember that Nathaniel needs you now and that Sienna needs you. That I need you.”
“I will,” he wrapped her in a tight hug, pulling her close. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, her very essence. “I will see you soon.”
If they were other people, other beings, perhaps even younger, they might have said that they loved each other. Instead, they pulled back, locking minds and exchanging emotion that nearly bowled both of them over.
It took every ounce of willpower for Desmond to tear away from her. He squeezed her hand one last time, and then turned, heading up the platform.
“Nathaniel!” he said to indicate that he was on board.
“Rise up,” came Nathaniel's cry from the pilot's chair. The platform began to rise, the mechanics clicking as it locked into place. Desmond strolled forward, settling into the co-pilot's seat and trying to distract his mind.
“It's unusually quiet up here,” Desmond said, looking around. “It's never good when things are quiet.”
“She's just exploring,” Nathaniel said. “This is a warship; she's only ever dreamed of being on one. Are you ready?”
“Aye,” Desmond said as Nathaniel powered up. He flicked a switch on the ceiling, activating the intercom system.
“Sienna, buckle up, wherever you are,” he said, his voice echoing through the ship. Both of them paused, waiting to feel the answer that she was safe. Desmond put his hand on the left thruster and Nathaniel on the right.
As soon as they felt her settled at the back of the ship, they pushed the handles forward.
The ship fired up, and they bolted out of the hangar. Nathaniel hung a hard left, and they rose, indicating they were headed to the intergalactic highway. They passed the clouds and through the atmosphere, and then he flipped the switches, pushing them into hyperspace. Desmond braced himself for the jump as Nathaniel engaged the thrusters further.
‘Reynolds.’ He reached out with his mind, trying to ping him. He used to do it every morning, just as he did with all those he cared about. He always felt him, but it was always filled with pain and sadness.
This time, he felt fear.
‘I'm coming, Desmond sent. It fit for their undercover mission, but it wasn't for the right motives. ‘I'm coming to you, Tiro.’
Chapter 6
Once they were in hyperspace, Nathaniel was able to set the controls to autopilot. It was over twenty-four hours until they reached their destination, and he hated sitting in the pilot's seat for longer than he needed to.
“I bet Christa could find a way to get us there in three,” he said as he got up. He was referring to Desmond's former Tiro, before him, and after Reynolds. Christa was known for being the best pilot the Academy had ever had. Desmond jerked out of the daze he was in.
“Not without killing us,” he replied, watching Nathaniel.
“I was under the impression that she just cared about getting into the record books,” Nathaniel answered. “So, her passengers being dead doesn't really matter.”
“That could be correct,” Desmond answered. “Where are you going?”
“Do you know how long it's been since I've been on a Halifax Pier?” he asked. “I'm exploring, too.”
“Call if you get stuck in an escape hatch,” Desmond replied half-heartedly, turning his attention back to the window. The stars were going by too fast to see anything, but he seemed content to gaze out into the blackness.
Nathaniel left him to his thoughts, making his way to the back of the ship.
‘Sienna,’ he called out, unsure of where she had gotten to.
‘Here,’ came the reply, and he followed the ping until he came into the gun deck. There was one gun up on the command deck, and the rest were down below. She was sitting in one of the chairs, the periscope at her waist, and her eyes glued to it.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “Are you going to blast someone out of the sky? I don't think you can do that at hyperspace.”
“I know,” she said, as she pulled back. “But I've only sat at fake ones.”
“In school?” he asked, and she nodded. “Well, I failed there. I should have at least taught you.”
“Mmm,” she fiddled with the buttons idly. “This doesn't require magic.”
“Pushing a button and firing a gun?” he asked. “No, it doesn't.” He took a seat opposite her, and she looked to him, picking at the red paint over the buttons that
was coming off.
“But it is easier with magic,” she said.
“Not necessarily,” he said. “There are many sharpshooters renowned for their skill who don't have any magic at all to anticipate or aim. You have to remember, Sienna, magic can always be traced, no matter how careful or how skilled you are. So, if you trying to shoot someone without them noticing, you have to hope that they aren't pinging for your magic.”
“Oh,” she said, although she knew this. “Language doesn't require magic.”
“Language?” he asked. “Translation, you mean? No, that doesn't. Not to speak it. Why are you talking about this?”
She shrugged. “Just in case I need to.”
“You won't need to,” he assured her. “We're going to find a way.”
“Uh huh,” she replied, although she clearly didn't believe him. “Now that we are on the ship, I can call Devon?”
“Devon?” Nathaniel asked. “No. That needs to be a surprise”
“But we are in space now,” she said. “I am coming to him. I should be safe.”
“I don't even know where they are,” Nathaniel tried to tell her.
“That's okay, I can–”
“You certainly aren't pinging him,” Nathaniel answered. “You can wait.”
She gave him a sly look. “You are excited to see Laura?”
“Let's talk about something else,” he said quickly. If he so much as thought a few words, she would know exactly what happened.
“We are to be…bait?” she asked. “Reynolds will come for Desmond?”
“Yes,” Nathaniel answered. “Sybil is still working on the plan, but it looks like the idea is for Desmond to act like he's gone rogue, and to…bring you.”
“Me?” she said, in shock. “Why me?”
“Because Reynolds will have heard of you,” Nathaniel said. “Everyone knows of your power, little one. He will want you for his side.”
“Never,” she said, and Nathaniel shrugged.
“Yes, but that is the part that you must play. It's not hard, just follow Desmond's lead.”
“And you?” she asked.
“I will be joining Sybil,” he said, and her eyes widened.
“No, Nathaniel. We can't be apart.”
He chuckled softly. “We won't be. I will pretend as if it's Sybil influence that has turned me, and Desmond will go looking for me, and then find Reynolds.”
“Reynolds will believe Desmond wants to turn?” she asked.
This made Nathaniel look at the ground. “Yes,” he said. “But I want you to remember that anything Desmond says, or I say…it's acting. Listen to the bond, all right? No one but the three of us can penetrate those thoughts, and there you will find the truth.”
“Desmond has always walked a greyer line than most,” Sienna said at last.
“Which is why it will be more believable,” Nathaniel answered. “It's just an act, remember that.”
“Of course,” she said. They took on roles and quests all the time, and she was used to going with the flow of things. “You have met him? Reynolds?”
“Never,” Nathaniel answered. “I've only heard stories of who he used to be.”
“It will be interesting,” she said, “to see the first Tiro that drew Desmond.”
“Someday, someone will say that about you,” he smiled as he stood up. “Come on, let's explore the rest.”
She shivered as she stood, and he snapped his fingers to the rucksack she was still carrying. “Sweater,” he said, and she reluctantly put it on. “Just because we aren't on an official quest doesn't mean you have to freeze.”
“Do you think the Jurors will take us back?” Sienna asked. “After this?”
“Uh…,” Nathaniel paused. “I don't know, to be honest. I haven't thought about it like that.”
“Perhaps Desmond will feel less guilty,” she said, and that stopped him.
“What?” he answered. “He doesn't feel guilty. I mean, I could see why he would, but I don't feel any guilt off him. He and Mariah maintain that they have done nothing wrong and have never let their relationship distract them.”
“He didn't used to,” she answered. “But he does lately.”
“Sienna,” he said at last, “don't dive into people's innermost thoughts, all right?”
“Because it's not polite?” she responded automatically.
“Because it's not polite, but also because sometimes, you dig so deep that you realize feelings they have not even realized yet. That could come as quite a shock if they hear it from you before they realize it themselves, all right?”
“Can't everyone do this?” she asked.
“No, little one, you're the only one, who is this powerful,” he said. “Desmond and I may be able to work in combat, but we can't do what you do, and you know that. You know you're special. Which are words Reynolds may tell you to sway you.”
“I wouldn't ever do that,” she swore. “What he says will be false.”
“It won't all be false,” Nathaniel warned her. “That is what makes that type of magic so dangerous. He will use the truth against you to suggest that the path you are on is not correct.”
“No,” she swore, and he smiled. She was determined, as she always was.
But he knew that Sienna had also lived a very sheltered life. She had never experienced Acheronian magic before, just as she had never fired a gun. By her age, most witches had already fought in a battle, already taken a life, and seen all kinds of magic.
He knew that he, as her Maestro, was at fault for this. She was ill equipped, but he didn't really see another way around it at the moment. He couldn't risk her life any more than they already did. Usually, he was all right with the way things were. But sometimes, there were glaring examples of just what a different life they were living.
“This is a big ship,” Sienna said as they walked. They were moving slowly, cautiously, both for her own safety and in case of unexpected bumps. “Eliza likes us.”
“Sure,” Nathaniel answered as they rounded the corner to where the bunks were. They were meant for soldiers, stacked on top of each other with white, coarse sheets and topped with a single pillow. “Oh. Well, it's just for one night, isn't it?”
Sienna made a face. “A long night.”
He smiled, giving her a little bump on the shoulder. “You won't even notice,” he said. “Come on, let's–”
That was when a giant jolt threw both of them sideways.
“What the hell?” Nathaniel caught her, slamming his own shoulder into the wall as leverage. There would likely be a bruise in the morning, but he didn't really care. “What was that?” ‘Desmond?’
‘Meteor shower, as far as I can tell,’ Desmond's frantic thoughts came back. ‘I'm trying to re-set our course.’
“It's okay.” Nathaniel pulled Sienna down where they couldn't be hurled across the ship. They sat on the floor, both of them gripping onto the rails made for just this purpose. “You heard that?”
She nodded, although she looked a bit frightened. He quickly remembered that this was another experience she had only had in simulation.
“You know this is Christa's favorite time to fly?” he tried to distract her. “She likes meteor showers; she says they keep her alert. Ah!”
They clearly hit something big, and he braced.
‘Desmond!’
‘Man the guns,’ Desmond's thoughts came back.
‘For what?’ Nathaniel thought, in shock.
This is not a meteor shower. We're under attack.’
Sienna heard those thoughts, meeting her Maestro's eyes with the terror.
“I thought–”
“You may get to use those skills after all,” he said, eyeing the distance between them and the guns. “When I count to three, we run. Sit in the seat and buckle yourself up, do you understand?”
“You are coming?”
“No, I have to fly,” he said. “But we are connected, little one. Don't forget that.”
She
looked terrified, but nodded. Nathaniel wished that he had the time to comfort her; the time to explain what the best procedure was. But he needed to get up front and assess the situation before they were blown to bits. A Halifax Pier was a warship, but it was useless if it was unmanned.
“Are you ready?” he asked, and she nodded. “One-two-three! Go!”
They bolted in opposite directions, his mind locked on hers, even as he raced to the front.
Desmond looked frazzled when he got there, trying to run both piloting chairs and ready the gun in the command center.
“What is it?” Nathaniel asked.
“Pirates, I think.” Desmond answered. “Raiders.”
“Pht, it's nothing.” Nathaniel turned on the minter, and then his jaw dropped. “Unless there's a fleet of about 1000. Holy…”
“We have to attack,” Desmond answered. “Or they'll overtake us.”
“Like hell they will,” Nathaniel replied as he began to input commands. “Get on the gun up here. I've got Sienna on the back ones.”
This was what they were used to and had done so together for years on end. They flowed into it as if they had never left, moving as a unit. They only difference now was their young Tiro in the back, engaged in her very first space battle.
Chapter 7
“Hold onto your hats,” Nathaniel said as he dodged yet another pirate attack. He knew that there were too many for them to actually win, but he didn't need to have every single one shot down. He just needed enough shot down that he could get a clear path out of there.
The pirate ships were small, but they often won attacks by their tiny shots hitting large ships in impressive numbers. One shot wasn't going to do much, but a thousand was a different story.
“Um,” Desmond said, as they nearly flipped upside down, “that was unnecessary.”
“Never wanted Christa more than now,” Nathaniel gripped the steering wheel. “Here's a clear shot set up for you.”
‘Maestro.’
The cry came loud and clear, and both of them tensed.
‘Sienna, are you hurt?’
‘I can't do this.’
Desmond half smiled, even as he was blowing ships apart. ‘You can do this, little one. One at a time.’
Bruins' Peak Bears Box Set (Volume I) Page 95
