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.
“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 imposs
ible 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 do 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 o
n 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.”
Dawn of the Dragons (Exiled Dragons Book 10) Page 68
