“Maestro.”
“Sienna.” He pushed himself up onto his elbows, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What can I do for you at crack of dawn, yet again?”
She smiled, because she knew that he wasn't really mad. Nathaniel was never mad at her, not since she became his student in magic.
Most elders, or Maestros as they were called, followed a formula They trained as a Tiro student until they came of age to the take the tests set out by the Jurors, and then they usually spent a few years on their own before they took their own Tiro, and the cycle repeated. The witches were guardians of the galaxy, keeping peace any way they could. Of course, sometimes keeping the peace meant fighting in wars, which had been Nathaniel's specialty He had been a warrior, and only recently through the tests when his former Maestro had suggested what had previously been impossible. Desmond had suggested they both train Sienna, a witch of unparalleled power. The irony was, due a defective gene, she was incompatible with any magic at all.
It took years to figure it out, years of carefully training her fragile body before they realized what the obvious solution was. In a controversial choice, they blocked her magic chemically with daily IVs.
With these infusions, which they told no one about, Sienna thrived. She was still quiet, still thin, but she wasn't fainting at every turn, nor was she seizing at a twist of the head. She just couldn't do magic, and both her Maestros focused on the other aspects of the upcoming tests, such as negotiation and translation.
Neither of them talked about the fact that the ability to pass the tests without magic was impossible. Nathaniel was determined to never leave her, especially when they had been through so much. Two years ago, Sienna had lost her way, following a wayward witch she loved off the beaten path and nearly leaving them. Things had never been the same since, Nathaniel realized, but it didn't change his devotion
Except, at six a.m., then he questioned it. When they had originally started training Sienna, they had agreed on twelve hour shifts in which they would be on call, should an emergency arise. Desmond often took his quite literally, and Nathaniel found that as soon as his elder was not on call, he found a way to send the early rising Sienna elsewhere. Desmond was technically on call from six a.m.- six p.m., which made Nathaniel fear what time it actually was.
“Quest bids are up. Please, let me bid.”
“Okay?” He was confused why she was asking permission for this. At sixteen, she was far more independent in most aspects. “Wait, bid for what?”
“Eliza's escort mission. Please, please, you haven't seen her in forever.”
“Ay-yi-yi, don't do that,” he said, sitting up in a panic
Eliza was the Queen of Jeffro, Sienna's former planet, and Nathaniel’s lady love since he was her age. Witches weren't supposed to have romantic love, thinking that it distracted from the magic. Everything, in the opinion of the Jurors, distracted from the magic. Three years ago, Desmond had gotten them all exiled for his lifelong love to another Maestro, Mariah. Since their return, they had all tried to be more cautious. Nathaniel used to take quests all the time to see Eliza, but now, he only saw her on stopovers, or her own diplomatic visits.
“Why not?” she asked. “If Devon was still here, I would want to see him everyday.”
He raised an eyebrow at that comment. Devon was the witch she had run off with once, claiming to be in love with him. Devon was chronically ill, as well, and they had bonded over their medical drama. But Devon had not chosen to return to the Order since, forcing his Maestro to take a healthy, strong Tiro and forging his own path, beyond the magic. It was rapidly clear with each day that Sienna did not want that. She wanted to be a witch, even if there was no magic involved. Witches stood for so much more than that, her Maestros had taught her.
She hadn't mentioned Devon much since he left, and not at all in the past year and a half. In one half moment, Nathaniel realized that this had been more than a passing fling. Had their bond still been intact, Nathaniel wondered if he would have heard his name in her thoughts daily.
Oops, thought his brain as he tried to think of something to say.
“Really?” was all he managed, and he wanted to smash his head against the pillow. Luckily, Sienna didn't seem too bothered by it.
“Let me bid for it. We are just to escort her to Natrine, nothing complicated.”
He sighed.
“Fine,” he said. “Only if you bid for it, don't use my credits or my name. It might not flag the Jurors then. But don't put too much into it. It's an escort quest, no one is going to be head over heels for it.”
“Oh,” she said and his face fell.
“You already bid, didn't you?”
“I'm hungry?” She tried to distract him, and he rolled his eyes.
“Okay, okay, I'm getting up. I'll meet you in the cafeteria, all right?”
“Mm,” she said, looking down at her tablet. She swiped a few things. “Oh, they accepted it.”
“Awesome,” he groaned. “Please go to the cafeteria.”
“Yes, Maestro,” she said. He glanced at her in the semi-darkness.
“Sienna, your port.”
“Oops.” She pulled down her sleeve, where she had a permanent IV port. It was likely no one would question her if they saw it. since she had been sick enough to need it. But to be thriving now and still have it was questionable at best, and Nathaniel didn't want any suspicions that she had lost her magic.
Once she was gone, he sank back into the pillows, closing his eyes for a moment.
Despite the chaos, he was happy in life right now. And the idea of spending an extended period of time with Eliza tickled his heart in a way he had almost forgotten.
He rolled over, glancing at the clock, and groaned. It wasn't even six a.m. yet.
It's 5:58, Maestro, he reached out through the telepathic bond for Desmond. Really?
You know, Nathaniel, all the other Maestros are on their own with their Tiros. Five a.m. or five p.m. doesn't matter if the Tiros need them. You should practice that.
I don't know, I really like this system. Nathaniel heaved himself up at last. Breakfast?
Not now, Desmond said, dismissive, and Nathaniel was left puzzled as he headed to the shower. Desmond had been off lately, spending more and more time by himself. He hadn't been skimping on his duties, but he certainly hadn't been going the extra mile. He had been spending much time in mediation, which made Nathaniel worry.
Their fateful quest years ago had brought Desmond face to face with his former Tiro, Reynolds, who had chosen to leave the Order and work for the Acheronian side of magic, a shunned, dark form that lea only to evil. Reynolds currently under arrest in the dungeons below them, but Nathaniel knew that would end very soon. The Jurors had spent the past two years questioning him, learning about his magic, and holding him accountable for the crimes he had committed one way or another, it would soon be over.
Joining Sienna in the cafeteria, the hustle and bustle of the morning crowd woke him more than the shower. Technically, Desmond was on shift right now, but Nathaniel didn't mind so much, when food was involved.
“You are teaching today?” Sienna asked, picking at her plate. She couldn't ingest anything that wasn't packed full of chemicals, and so food was often an issue for her. The cafeteria was reasonably well stocked, thought, so Nathaniel wasn't too concerned when they were here.
“I am,” he said, as they dug in. “Combat in flight.”
“Oh.” Her eyes lit up. “I could take that next year.”
“You could,” he said. “But I thought you had decided to focus more on language and translation.”
She shrugged. “Doesn't mean I can't learn,” she said, and then paused “Wait, can I still take your courses if you are my Maestro?”
“Yes, you can take mine,” he said. “There's no hard and fast rule against it. If I'm allowed to train you, I'm allowed to mark your papers.”
“I could tell everyone your trade secrets,” she teased him. “Everyon
e would pass the course.”
“You think that, do you?” he teased her right back. “Or everyone would fail. I've thought about teaching a joint course with Christa, for an advanced option.”
Sienna's eyes lit up. Christa was Desmond's Tiro before Nathaniel. They had only been together a year and a bit. Christa's Maestro had died and Desmond was reeling from the loss of Reynolds They had brought hope to each other. Christa was one of the greatest pilots in the Order right now, finding a life after the death of her former Maestro. She was famous with witches, and there was no one who could rival her, although Nathaniel often tried. Sienna admired her, and went starry eyed every time she saw her.
“That would be wonderful,” Sienna replied. “But only a few would be good enough to take it. Devon could have.”
“Sienna…” Nathaniel probed. “Do you still think of him often?” Since they had denied her magic, they had not been able to share a bond, which meant Nathaniel was out of the loop with her thoughts.
Sienna shrugged one bony shoulder. “Sometimes,” she said. “We talk.”
“You talk to him?” Nathaniel said in shock. “How often?”
She blushed. “It doesn't matter, does it? He's off having an adventure.”
“How is he doing?” Nathaniel did not want her to think that he was scolding her. After all, he and Desmond both had romantic interests. It was a grey area for all of them.
“His health is… better…” Sienna said, puzzled. “We were wondering if when I resurrected him… I cured him. It's a slow cure, but he's noticing a difference.”
“That is interesting,” Nathaniel said, drumming his fingers on the table. “I wish we could look into that further.”
“We could,” she suggested but he shook his head.
“No. Not at the risk of your own health. We are just lucky that nothing has come through the portal you opened with Devon. For now, don't worry about it. Finish eating, and then we should both get to class.”
“Mm,” she said, pushing her plate away. “I'm done.”
“Sometimes,” he said, taking her plate with half-annoyance and half-fondness. “I look at you and think you've changed so much. And then you do something like this, and I realize nothing has changed. Go ahead, but make sure you eat lunch with Desmond.”
“Bah,” she said, but picked up her rut sack all the same. Nathaniel shook his head as he watched her go, and then turned on his tablet. He had been waiting for the opportunity since she had woken him up.
Eliza, he typed into the message app, seeing that she was online. I'm your escort
I know, came the quick reply. I asked Sienna to arrange it.
You sneaky devil. He grinned as he typed back. Pick up here?
No, come to Jeffro, she typed back. I've gained control of three outer rim planets, so I need to have it negotiated properly. And as you can assume, there are some people who are angry about it.
Don't worry, your highness. My team is a united front and will protect you.
She sent him a wink and he laughed, closing the tablet. This wasn't turning out to be such a bad day after all, despite the five fifty-eight a.m. wake-up call.
Chapter 2
Desmond and Mariah were in meditation in the outside garden, having not said a word to each other for nearly an hour. It was one of his favourite ways to spend quality time with her – locked in the magic, feeling nothing else but her presence and the strong life force that beat around them. Some witches didn't meditate, although he didn't know how. Nathaniel had never taken to the practice, often unable to quiet his mind, and Desmond was baffled by his talent despite his busy thoughts. Mediation was the only way to centre himself, he found. That, and be alongside Mariah.
“You are troubled,” she said, quietly, unable to keep it from him any longer. She couldn't quite read his mind, but she could feel the dark cloud over his head like impending rain. He sighed, opening his eyes.
“Yes,” he said. “But I trust in the magic that the answer will come to me soon.”
“Is it Sienna?” Mariah asked, knowing that it was. He had been troubled over her situation for the better part of six months, seeming foggy whenever he looked for a future for her. He sighed.
“I feel like I'm failing her, Mariah.”
“You are not,” Mariah spoke quickly. “Without you, she would not be here at all, and she would certainly not be as healthy. You and Nathaniel saved her from almost certain death, and allowed her to thrive.”
“Yes, she thrives,” Desmond said. “Because we block her magic. But there is no future for her in the witches, and both you and I know that. The tests need magic, so where do we go from here?”
Mariah remained quiet for a long time. “What are you going to do?”
Desmond sighed. “I don't know,” he said, and then changed his mind. “That's not true. I do know, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it.”
She put a hand on his arm, giving him strength just from her touch.
“If Nature intends it, you will follow the path you seek,” she said. “And it will not be as difficult as you feel it is.”
“Maybe,” he replied. “It's unprecedented, though.”
“Your entire life with Sienna has been unprecedented,” Mariah pointed out. Desmond let out a deep breath, not realizing he had been holding it.
“I just don't know where to go from here, Mariah. There is no future, and continuing to train her is a waste to you, waiting for me, to the magic, to the resources. She is smart, and she is strong, and she could have a path outside of this Order if she only thought it was an option. But as long as Nathaniel and I continue to stand by her, protect her, keep her under our wing, she will not see what greatness she can achieve.”
“And if you leave her?” Mariah answer. “She is attached to you, Desmond, she will crumple if she is alone.”
“Possibly,” Desmond said. “For a moment. But then she will rise to the occasion, as she always does.”
“Nathaniel will not leave her,” Mariah said. “He is devoted, he will train her for a half a hundred years if that's what it takes.”
Desmond sighed. “But that is their relationship,” he said. “I cannot interfere with that. I can only do what I think is best for her and I.”
“On this quest?” Mariah asked, and he squeezed her hand.
“I don't know.” he said. “I don't know if the time is right now, or a few months down the road. But it is becoming clearer that is the path we must take. She will hate me for it, but she will be all right.”
“I don't know if she'll hate you,” Mariah said, after a moment. “Hate is not an emotion she has. Fear, sadness, but not hate. You have bred that out of her. She would make a good witch.”
“She is a good witch,” Desmond said. “Just…magicless” He patted her hand, and pulled her gently up, watching the time. “Nathaniel is in my head. He wants to leave for Jeffro soon, and you know what Nathaniel gets like when he wants to see Eliza. It's hopeless, even if we are early by months. But I'll be in contact with you.”
“If Sienna wants to talk,” Mariah said. “I'm here for her. Although she might direct her anger toward me, blame me.”
“I don't think so,” Desmond replied. “She encourages our relationship, as much as she shouldn't. She thinks that as soon as she passes the tests, I'm going to retire and run off with you.”
Mariah smiled. “Well, that's true, isn't it?”
“Is it now?” He desperately wanted to kiss her, but he resisted. They had been better about keeping their relationship under wraps since they were put on suspension. Desmond wanted to leave the Order on his own terms, and that meant being more careful about how much love he bestowed on Mariah. But he did love her, more than anything. Instead of kissing her, he took her arm, pretending she needed more assistance than she did to get back inside.
They were only four steps inside, when they were bombarded by Nathaniel, straight out of the class he had taught.
“We should just go no
w,” he said. “In case Eliza needs to brief us, it's a long escort And also…”
“Nathaniel,” Desmond put up his hand. “I don't need to hear your excuses. Can I have an hour to pack, at least?”
“You can,” Nathaniel answered. “Where's Sienna?”
Desmond's brow furrowed. “You don't know?”
“It's daytime, Desmond, that's your job,” Nathaniel reminded him. “I thought she would be with you.”
It was much harder to keep track of her without the bond that they were used to having. But what surprised Nathaniel more than forgetting her schedule was how often Desmond had been doing this. His Maestro had been shifting responsibility more often or letting her have far more freedom than they had agreed on. Nathaniel didn't like Sienna anywhere that people didn't know exactly what was wrong with her and how they could help if she fell ill. As she got older and took the more advanced classes, it was easier, for the classes were smaller and the teachers had known her half her life. Still, he assumed Desmond knew exactly where she saw when the sun was up.
“I'm sure she's fine,” Desmond answered. “Does she know that we are going so soon?”
“I'm sure she suspects,” Nathaniel answered.
“Well, why don't you find her,” Desmond said. “I'll take Mariah to the class she is teaching, and then I'll meet you in the hanger? I assume you have already secured a ship?”
“Yes, of course.” Nathaniel gave him a funny look. “Is everything all right, Maestro? You seem troubled.”
“I'll see you there,” Desmond repeated, leaving Nathaniel a bit confused. Still, Desmond got like this sometimes, and Nathaniel knew it was nothing to worry about. Desmond had far more experience riding the ebbs and flows of magic than he did, and it always worked out.
Reaching a tablet console in the academic hall, Nathaniel logged in to find Sienna's schedule, scrolling to the correct day.
His Tiro was in advanced linguistics, which was her favorite course. It was due to end in ten minutes, and he moved through the hallways, trying to stay quiet as the classes around him continued his progress. It seemed a lifetime ago that he was a Tiro, sitting in those seats. But at the same time, he felt like it was just a moment ago. He certainly didn't feel like a Maestro most days, and still turned to Desmond for advice, navigating the world by the skin of his teeth.
Dragon of the Prairie Page 50
