Desmond was slowly dragging himself back to life on the other side of the warehouse. She wanted Nathaniel, and she wanted help.
But she was alone for the moment. She had never been alone like this, never been so helpless.
And yet, never been so powerful.
“Don't,” she said, her hands swelling with magic. “Don't touch him. I don't want your magic. I don't want your ways.”
“Do you want to sicken and die like him?” Reynolds asked. “Your boyfriend is dependent on everyone around him, every chemical and treatment. For you, it's manageable. I can show you a way to live, Sienna. I can show you true power; power that you were meant to have.”
She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “No.”
“Wouldn't you like to be free?” he asked her. “Wouldn't you like to not be such a burden on the Maestros that you have ruined? Warriors who will never again reach their peak? Come with me and be free.”
‘Nathaniel,’ she cried out through her bond as Desmond fell to the floor again. ‘Nathaniel, please!’
But Reynolds reached out, and she knew that even if Nathaniel was outside the door, she had no time.
She had to get rid of Reynolds. But resurrection magic took all her power, or it used to.
There was more power inside of her than she knew. And it came not from her, but from nature and from the support of her Maestros.
They had come for her; they had put everything on the line to rescue her time and time again. Now, she was going to do the same.
Channeling was something Sienna wasn't good at it, but skill didn't matter in this moment. Sheer willpower did, and blind trust in nature did.
The rocks around her began to tremble. The earth, mostly dry, began to rise with every tiny speck of living organism that was growing in it. Bugs, plants, everything. Even the trees outside began to tremble as she channeled the power around her.
“Sienna, don't!” Desmond managed, seeing what she was doing. “You aren't strong enough.”
“Maybe once,” she said quietly. “Maybe just once, Maestro, because I love him.”
Desmond could barely describe what happened in the next few moments. Sienna pushed her left hand forward and put her right hand on Devon. There was a giant blast that blinded Desmond then.
Nathaniel and Laura, opening the doors outside, were thrown flat onto their backs.
Nathaniel felt the wind rush out of his lungs as he hit the lawn, His vision was blinded by a white light, not unlike looking straight into the sun.
His ears rang as he went limp, rolling with the blast so that he wouldn't be hurt.
Aside from a few cuts and scrapes, he found himself mostly unhurt as he suddenly sat up.
“What the hell?” he asked as he scrambled to his feet.
Laura was already a step ahead of him, her arm cradled to her side. It was locked at an odd angle, the bone shattered. She didn't really care, trying to deny the void in her chest.
Devon was dead–gone from this world; she knew it.
The door to the warehouse was gone, and the inside looked nothing like the last time they were in there.
The trees around them were dead, withered and black. The lawn that Nathaniel had just watched Desmond walk across was brown and mostly barren.
There was blood everywhere and limbs that Nathaniel recognized as part of the Black Caesar's followers.
Reynolds' minions were flat on their faces, and it was unclear whether they were dead. It didn't matter to Nathaniel as his eyes searched the wreckage.
He found Desmond first, looking stunned, but conscious. He had blood pouring from his mouth, but his eyes were clear as he reached his hand to Nathaniel.
“Her,” Desmond said, through a mouth full of blood. “Go to her.”
Nathaniel's eyes fell forward, and he saw what Desmond meant.
Sienna was on her knees, looking at her palms, stunned. Her gaze was far away, and her nose was bleeding.
“Tiro,” Nathaniel said as he rushed toward her. “Sienna! Sienna!”
He grabbed her at once, pulling her tiny body into his arms. Reuniting with her was like finding a piece he was missing, his precious child that he had failed.
“Sienna, I'm so sorry,” he said. “I'm so sorry.”
“Devon?” Laura said, approaching in shock at the limp body. Her jaw dropped as she looked at his chest. “He's breathing? He's breathing. No, no, I saw you die. I felt you die. I felt you leave me. You didn't?”
“I saved him,” Sienna's tiny voice came, looking up at Nathaniel. She had broken all the blood vessels in her eyes, and she was trembling hard enough to tell him what was coming. “I saved us all.”
And then she went limp in his arms.
Chapter 18
When Sienna awoke, she had no idea where she was. The world was dim and hazy, and all the sound seemed far away. She felt something scratchy touching her, and she could feel vibrations beside her.
She tried to open her eyes time and time again, but it wasn't working. She couldn't seem to bring herself fully into the world of the living, fighting to return.
‘Maestro,’ she managed, reaching out through her bond.
To her horror, there was silence. There was no familiar feeling of safety when the message travelled through magic to her beloved Maestros. There was no feeling of comfort at all.
“Maestro,” the fear launched through her, and she sat up. She nearly choked when she did as something pushed against her chest.
Her eyes opened this time, and she found herself in a pure, white room, laying on a starched white bed. There were IVs in both her arms, and one attached to the jugular in her neck. There was an oxygen mask on her face, and machines beeping everywhere.
She felt contained–trapped–and it was terrifying.
“Sienna!” Suddenly, Nathaniel was beside her, his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back. “It's okay. It's okay, little one. It's okay. You're safe. Shh, little one.”
“Maestro,” she managed to say as the tears came. It was as if all the fear that had been pent up during the attack came rushing back at once. She buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing. The mask was in the way, and her tears flooded against it. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”
“It's okay,” he said, running a hand through her tangled hair. “It's okay. It's over now.”
Eventually, he managed to ease her back down onto the bed. It didn't take her long to realize that he wasn't sending calming magic into her veins like he normally did. He was, however, making soothing noises, keeping her calm with his voice. And once she stopped struggling, he reached to take the oxygen mask off her face.
“Just take a few breaths,” he said. “See if you can breathe normally. If it hurts, let me know.”
She did as she was told, cautiously taking a deep breath and then another. Her lungs hurt, but she could fill them, and she found a normal rhythm–cautious but strong.
She nodded, watching his face as he checked her vitals.
“I feel weird,” she said, unable to make sense of what was happening. “Nathaniel, I feel weird.”
“I know,” he said, clicking a machine to check a few stats. “You're okay, though. You're stable.”
“How…where?” She couldn't even form words.
“You're on Jeffro,” he said, “in Eliza's royal facility, only completed a day when we brought you in.”
“What…?” she said, her head beginning to pound. Her breath fell short, and he picked up on that, reaching for oxygen tubing instead. Gently, he looped it over her ears and under her nose. He waited until she was calm before he spoke.
“You've been here three weeks,” he said. “There were many times when we thought we would lose you. You wouldn't wake after the attack.”
“Devon!” she suddenly remembered.
“Yes, Devon,” Nathaniel said. “Devon is fine.”
She breathed such a sigh of relief that she actually dis
placed her pillow. He picked it up with a smile, lifting her head gently.
“Desmond?”
“Desmond is also fine,” he said. “Why don't you let me tell you what happened, all right? Just breathe easy.”
“Everyone is fine?” she asked in shock.
“Everyone is fine,” he assured her, “thanks to you. You were the one who wasn't fine.”
“I…the spell,” she remembered hazily.
“After that spell, you fell from us,” Nathaniel said. “I expected a seizure, perhaps a week of illness. But you would not come back to us. It was as if you hovered between this world and the next. And I thought…,” He paused, emotion overtaking him. “I thought we would have to let you go.”
“No!” Tears came into her eyes. “No. I made a mistake.”
He tried to smile through his tears. “Shh! We stabilized you and brought you here to Jeffro as a last resort.”
“Reynolds?”
“Reynolds was transported to the school,” he said, “and is currently being held prisoner in the dungeon, awaiting trial. Desmond, I suspect, will fight for him to have life in prison with parole, but I don't know what the Jurors' outcome will be. Either way, the mission is considered a success, and it's thanks to you.”
“To me?” she was so shocked by this. “But I messed up.”
“We all make choices that we look back on with regret,” Nathaniel said softly. “Yours, though, saved our lives. No one can fault you for that. At least, no one in their right mind can.”
Sienna sank against her pillows, trying to make sense of everything he had told her. Her throat was aching, and she couldn't think of the words she wanted.
‘Maestro,’ she tried again, the word so strong in her head she could practically see it.
But there was no answer.
“Nathaniel, our bond,” she said in a panic. “I can't…what's happening to me?”
Nathaniel squeezed her hand, and she didn't need the bond to see how troubled he was. Her eyes followed his to a purple IV bag hanging above her.
“Nathaniel?” she asked, fear creeping into her voice.
“Sienna, we thought we had lost you. You wouldn't awaken. Day after day, week after week, we waited. But you remained trapped in the world in between. And every time one of us reached out to you with the bond, your vitals slipped a little further, and you took another step away from us. Desmond and I had to make a choice, and it worked.”
“What worked?” she asked, in a panic. “What did you do?”
“That's Cinemron,” Nathaniel said, and her heart nearly stopped. “And it wasn't until we pumped it into your system that you came back to us. It's been three days, but you are improving every moment.”
“Cinemron,” she echoed. She knew exactly what it was. Witches feared it, avoided it, and ran from it. Cinemron was a chemical that blocked magic in a witch's body. It made it impossible to draw on nature. “Nathaniel….”
“Shh,” he said. “We had to try. We had to do something, my dear, or you would have left us forever.”
“I can't be a witch without magic!” she cried, hot, salty tears pouring down her face. “I can't train, I can't–”
“Sienna,” Nathaniel stroked her hair, “listen to me. This entire time, you and magic have been in a volatile relationship. You have never used much of it, except as a weapon with dire consequences. We have shown you diplomacy, translation, negotiation, undercover work, and piloting. You haven't been using your magic much at all. Witches stand for so much more than fighting with magic, and you are good at all of those things.”
“But I can't. I'm your Tiro.”
“And that will never change!” he assured her. “Desmond and I took a pledge. We will never leave you. Is that clear? Do you understand? We will never walk away from you, all right?”
She searched his eyes, but she saw nothing but truth in them; nothing but calm relief. “But our bond….”
“We are bonded, little one,” he assured her. “We are bonded, and no one can take that away from us. Don't worry. All right?”
She didn't know what to say to that. But she felt comforted by Nathaniel's assurance and his strength.
“Where will we go from here?” she managed, the only question she could think of that she felt made sense.
“Home,” he said, and she blinked in shock.
“What?”
“Home,” he repeated. “The Jurors have decided, in light of our capture of Reynolds, that we can be reinstated. We are to return as soon as you are strong enough.”
Her mouth fell open, and she smiled, which warmed his heart.
“Really? Really?!”
“Yes!” He smiled back. “Home at last.”
“Oh my,” she closed her eyes. “I thought I would never hear someone say that. But you…Eliza.”
“It's okay,” Nathaniel said softly. “Eliza and I have an understanding. I am committed to you until you need me no longer. And then maybe, just maybe, this dream I lived with her these past few months will become a permanent choice. But right now, we are going to focus on getting you better.”
“How long will I…?” She indicated the IV in her arm.
“I don't know,” he admitted. “But you know that Desmond and I will make the best choices for you regarding it.”
“And when the Jurors find out that the most powerful witch they have seen can't do magic?”
“First of all, they won't,” Nathaniel said. “We are sealing your records, taking a page from Laura and Devon's book. And if they ever do, they can deal with it and keep their mouths shut because we are your Maestros, and we make those choices for you. Do you trust us?”
Sienna met his eyes. “Yes, of course.”
“Then just rest for now,” he said. “And let us take care of everything.”
“Can I see Desmond?” she asked. “Or Devon?”
“I can get Devon for you,” Nathaniel said, rising. “He's been eagerly awaiting your return.”
She paused. “Why not Desmond?”
Nathaniel chose his words carefully. “Desmond is not…having the easiest time with all of this, Sienna. He has been by your side this whole time, but when he saw signs that you were awakening, he chose to meditate. He'll be all right. Just give him some space.”
“Did he not want me to awaken?” she asked, confused.
“He did,” Nathaniel said. “He will be overjoyed. Being that close to Reynolds again, and having you leave…it was a bit much. He'll be all right.”
“I don't want to leave!” she assured her. “I thought I did. I thought that I wanted a different path, but I don't. I want to be a witch, I want to be trained, I want–”
“I know,” he assured her. “It's in the past. Don't worry about it. For now, just rest. I'll get Devon for you.”
“Thank you,” she said, and Nathaniel turned, navigating the doorway through his emotions.
“She's awake.” Eliza had been hovering just outside, not wanting to intrude. “Thank Creator.”
“Yes,” Nathaniel said, giving her a hug. “I've never been so thankful. I need to get Devon for her. She won't rest until she sees him.”
“Did you tell her?” Eliza questioned, and Nathaniel shook his head.
“I couldn't. Now is not the right moment. Perhaps he will tell her himself, or perhaps he will choose to wait until she regains her strength. It wasn't my tale to tell.”
“Very responsible of you,” Eliza said. “Considering your views on his choice.”
“He's not my Tiro,” Nathaniel said softly. “Mine is back, and she's made it pretty clear that she's never leaving me again. As soon as I find Devon, I should find Desmond. Without the bond, he won't know.”
“Do you think it will be permanent?” Eliza asked. “The suppressing of her magic?”
“If it keeps her alive,” Nathaniel set his jaw, “then I will personally administer it every day of my life.”
“But a witch without magic?” Eliza asked, and Nathaniel shrugged.
“She's been exceptional her whole life. This is just another way she'll show them that she doesn't have to be like everyone else. Another way she'll go down in the history books.”
“Beside her Maestros,” Eliza said with a smile as Nathaniel headed off.
Chapter 19
Desmond had gone to meditate initially when he felt Sienna shift back to consciousness, but he had ended in the gardens, walking with Mariah. It seemed a moment too good to pass up – their last moment, where no one would be bothered if they held hands while they walked.
“It does seem a lifetime ago,” Mariah said as they walked.
“A lifetime ago, and yet not so far,” Desmond answered. “I imagine we will adapt.”
“We will,” Mariah said, “because we always find a way. Although things will be different.”
He sighed. “To be honest, Mariah, I'm not sure I will be able to.”
Her head turned toward him. “Of course, you will,” she said. “You always find a way. That's why you've gotten this far.”
“I do know something,” he said. “This will be the last time. I do not have the heart or the strength anymore. It's not about saving them. It's about being a good Maestro, and I cannot provide that.”
“We knew this day would come,” she pointed out. “A day when we would age out. I know there was some discussion of the Jurors making a special exception due to your age, but I understand.”
“And when Sienna is ready, I promise you,” he said. “We will return to these gardens, and we will have our moment.”
“Don't promise that,” she said with a smile. “You are not sure you can uphold that promise.”
“I will do my very best,” he said as he heard footsteps. Out of instinct, he dropped Mariah's hand. However, to his relief, it was Nathaniel standing at the doorway of the palace, calling out to him.
“Maestro,” said his former Tiro, his face full of happiness. Desmond knew at once why he was being summoned.
“Sienna is awake,” he said to Mariah. “I have a duty to go to her.”
“It's more than a duty,” Mariah reminded him, but Desmond said nothing to that. Mariah felt him leave her, walking toward Nathaniel, with a heaviness around him. It was more than a duty, wasn't it? His Tiros had always been more than a duty. They had been family–their children, their hope.
White Star (Wolves of West Valley Book 1) Page 48
