Chapter 10
“Her levels are off the charts,” said the robotic voice of the universal translator application, which spoke almost on top of the Dramoonian leader. “She is in the right place.”
“I thought so,” Nathaniel said, playing along. “But I am concerned.”
“Concerned?”
“Prada is not so violent,” Nathaniel said, carefully. “She is very strong, and would be a great warrior. But the reason we stayed away so long…we heard rumors of what your ultimate quest is, to control the galaxy like the other witches, through war. Prada doesn't like violence.”
The Dramoonian looked between Prada and Nathaniel, for a very long time. Nathaniel felt his chest sink and wondered if he had made the wrong choice.
But then the Dramoonian laughed.
“You think we want to control the galaxy?” he asked.
“Isn't that what the threats are?”
“People say things they don't understand. We have to protect our own, with our lives, because they are so powerful, but we don't want total control. We want recognition that those born with such power are meant to live and die in war, that is the purpose nature gave them. And however we can serve—war, peace, intruders who mean harm who land on the planet…” He looked right at Nathaniel and Nathaniel felt his stomach sink. He knew what had happened with their ship. “We will fight to the last breath without a second guess. Because nature will take care of us after we die.”
“That is true...” Nathaniel said.
“So death doesn't matter, the pain doesn't matter, as long as we served nature.”
“Oh,” Nathaniel said, his heart pounding. And then the Dramoonian leader said the fatal words that made him panic.
“This is not the first Tiro of power you've had, Nathaniel.”
They knew his name. They knew his history. They knew everything. Had they planned this?
“What do you mean?”
“The one in here before,” he said. “Sienna was supposed to be the one to change everything.”
“Sienna is sick!” Nathaniel cried. “You saw that, you let her go.”
“Did we?” he asked. “Did we?”
He turned and went away without another word, leaving the two of them alone in the testing room. Nathaniel moved forward, but Prada grabbed his arm.
“Stop,” she said, now that they were alone. “What good will it do?”
“They knew. They knew everything.”
“They also aren't the bad guys,” Prada said. “Did you not hear them?”
“Prada, do you not understand what they want with you?”
“I understand what they want with me,” she said. “I don't understand what they want with Sienna. Isn't her magic gone?”
“It's not gone,” Nathaniel said. “It's blocked She could have it back in a flash if she stopped the drugs she's on. And she's going to do that, to save Devon. Which will kill her.”
“And what will they do with me?” Prada asked him, plainly. “Or does it matter to you?”
“Of course, it matters to me,” he said. “You're my Tiro, Prada, and I'm not going to let them take you. Don't worry.”
“What if I wanted to go?” she asked plainly. His jaw fell open in shock.
“No. This is not the way that magic, that nature, wants.”
“That's not for us to say,” she answered.
“How will you talk to them?” he challenged her and she rolled her eyes.
“I'm just saying that you're more concerned with the past right now.”
“They might be in danger, wherever they've been thrown,” Nathaniel said.
“So reach out, they know everything, anyway,” Prada said, and he realized that she was right.
Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on the bond that he once had. He couldn't reach Sienna and he wouldn't dare try. But he could reach Desmond after an attempt or two.
They know who we are. They want Sienna.
I know, Desmond's thoughts came back. Are you safe?
Right now, Nathaniel managed. Stay safe. Don't come back.
We will do what we must.
Awesome, Nathaniel replied, breaking the link as he turned back to Prada. She was watching him patiently, and he noticed that she was a step away from him than she usually was. Her mind was calm, taking in her surroundings That was not normal for Prada. She wasn't physically clingy like Sienna, but mentally, she couldn't communicate with anyone else. She didn't feel comfortable with anyone else.
“They know already,” he said. “I don't know what they are doing, but they must have a plan of their own.”
“And what are we going to do?” Prada asked. “Because we may be great warriors but there are more of them, and they are at least on equal level with us. We can't win, Nathaniel. And I don't think they are going to let us walk out if they indeed to have us here.”
“There's only one thing to do, then,” he said. “Blend in. We need to meet them, talk to them, get a deeper understanding of what's happening.”
“That translator app is terrible, though,” she said, and he laughed.
“It's not so bad. When I was your age, we were lucky if every second word was right in a universal translator.”
“Still, understanding is very important in a situation like this.”
“Oh, you'd prefer a real life translator?” he teased her. “Like the one who had who walked away who you don't like.”
Prada glared at him, but only for a moment. Then, a question came through her lips.
“Was it always like that?” she asked.
“Like what?” Nathaniel asked.
“With Sienna, being sick?”
“Yes,” he said. “You know that.”
“I've never seen it though,” she said. “Why did you stick with it?”
“Prada!” he said in horror. “What a question.”
“But why?” she asked.
“Because she was my Tiro, Prada, and I wasn't going to walk away until she wanted it.”
“Oh,” Prada said, looking at her shoes. “I see.”
“I'm glad it took you that many years to see something I've been telling you all along,” he said. “And to see that it's the same with you, Tiro.”
She said nothing to that for a moment and then advanced toward the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To meet everyone,” she said. “They aren't going to let us leave, but they will probably let us explore, in the hopes that we like this place.”
“That's my problem,” he said, but followed her out the door.
The similarities to their academy were frightening, but Nathaniel managed to get over it soon enough as they walked. Prada was right about the fact that they wanted them to explore, he could feel it in the thoughts of everyone watching them.
They watched classes. They watched practices. They watched meal times. The differences were in the power, in the teaching. But if they just looked at the Tiros, at the Maestros, at the magic in the air, everything was the same.
What fascinated Prada was how comfortable she felt with that level of magic flowing around her. She no longer felt like an outcast, a stranger. No one was staring at her. No one was shocked at the amount of magic that ran through her veins. She was stronger than them, but it wasn't by much. Their thoughts flowed easily, their bonds coming as if it were nothing.
These were witches like her, who had been ostracized, told they didn't belong. But they did belong here. Here, she would be accepted.
And while they were violent, she didn't see it as any more violent than the warriors on their greatest quests. Nathaniel had been one of the greatest warriors, and Prada always thought that he had given up for Sienna. How could he give up this thrill, this power, to train such a weak little witch?
Weak and yet strong. Prada couldn't think straight, and tried to quiet her thoughts to listen to others. Her Maestro seemed deep in thought himself.
He couldn't shake the idea of a threat fr
om his mind, but the more he watched, the more he thought that their words might be truth. Maybe they did just want their way of power recognized; in the hope that they would also get to serve Nature. But something seemed off, the more he watched.
Prada, he said, quietly with his mind. Prada, I think they are training for something.
They are, she said, reminding him that she was much more powerful than he would ever be. There is a threat. But it's not in the galaxy.
Prada… he thought, hearing the thoughts before they were fully formed. They want to take down our school.
Takeover, she said. That's what they want us for. Live or die, as long as you will serve the magic. And if we don't serve them...
She didn't need to finish the sentence. With two against a whole army, they would die if they didn't do as they said.
Why are Desmond and Sienna on the planet, walking free? Nathaniel urged her.
I don't know, she thought, searching the air. But he could see there was something in her face.
Prada! He threatened.
She sighed.
I think they won't be free for much longer, Prada said. It was a rouse, to split us up.
Desmond! Nathaniel broke his bond with Prada to reach out to his former Maestro. Desmond!
There was no answer and Nathaniel began to panic. He closed his eyes, pushing his thoughts, but there wasn't an answer. He had one last option, and he hated it.
Sienna, he tried.
Maestro, she answered right away. Nathaniel simultaneously wanted to yell at her and thank her.
You and Desmond are in danger. You will be hostages.
Over my dead body, Sienna's voice came and then there was silence.
“Do you like our school?” the Dramoonian leader asked, coming up behind them. Nathaniel tried not to jump several feet in the air.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “We don't want to fight in your war.”
“It's your war, too,” the alien said through the translator. “After all, Nathaniel, you've been contributing to it.”
“What are you talking about?” Nathaniel said. “I never—”
“These girls that you train, the boy that Desmond trained—”
“Reynolds?” Nathaniel asked. “Reynolds is nowhere near as powerful as these girls.”
“But he did choose a different path. As you will, when you see our power. When you see our way. Come this way.”
“What?” Nathaniel asked, stepping back toward Prada. She could blow this entire place to Kingdom Come at any moment, but despite being a warrior, he didn't resort to violence at a first resort. “We aren't going anywhere.”
“You don't want to go home?” the Dramoonian leader asked. “Back to your Academy?”
“I have a feeling we don't have a choice.”
“No,” he said. “But you will see it in a different way. The ship bay is this way.”
“Fantastic.” Nathaniel knew they didn't have a choice, not being outnumbered this much. “Sienna can't do magic. You need to leave her in peace. She and Desmond are not part of the order anymore.”
“That can be rectified.” Nathaniel had a feeling that they weren't going to be on this ship alone. Prada was right, it had been a ruse. Together, the four of them would be a force to be reckoned with. But by splitting them up and putting them on the ship separately, they couldn't launch an attack without bringing the whole ship down.
This was tactic at its most brilliant, something that he would have been praised for planning.
“Come on, Prada,” he said. “Do as the nice man says. Let's go.”
Or we could…
Or we could do nothing, because we are peacekeepers, Nathaniel hadn't thought it possible to think through clenched teeth, but Prada taught him every day that new things were possible. Prada rolled her eyes, but followed his lead as they were taken to the ships.
It was a large ship they were loaded into, practically as hostages, but that didn't worry him. What worried him was the amount of ships around them that were also being loaded.
They were planning a full-scale attack, indeed. Their quest was going to be considered a failure, unless they could figure something out in the air.
“How did you know Sienna had power?” Nathaniel turned around to ask. “How did you find her?”
The alien paused, listening for the translator.
“Rumors of Sienna's power have always been. But her signature appeared on Jeffro five months ago.”
When Devon had fallen ill, Nathaniel realized. By trying to save the love of her life, she had doomed herself.
Chapter 11
“Maestro…” Sienna started her sentence, but she could already see that it was too late. Before she could say anything, there was what seemed like half an army upon them. Sienna realized that they had been cloaked, which bothered her. She should have been able to sense that, had she had magic in full working order.
How many people was she going to put in danger because her magic wasn't in top form?
What did it matter if she died, if everyone else around her was going to die as well?
“Maestro, I can…”
“No.” Desmond knew that they couldn't win with a reasonable chance. This had obviously been planned. “No!” He grabbed Sienna's arm. “Stop. Stop. We will go and go peacefully.”
“Maestro, I can…” she tried again, but he tightened his grip, as a circle of witches surrounded them. They all had their hands raised. What Desmond noticed was that there was no one who stopped to look; stop to help. The entire planet was in on this cause, which was one of the most dangerous situations he had every seen. “But I can.”
“I know you can,” he said. “But you won't, because you're going to see the outcome of this.”
“Bah,” she said, but decided to listen to Desmond, only because she wanted to save all her magic for Devon. “We will go with you, without a fight.”
“Right this way, Madame,” said one of the alien witches, and Sienna noticed that they treated her with respect, as if she was one of them.
They were all of one faith. They all drew their magic from one place. It was the choice of use, and the amount they used that was different.
Maestro, she decided to call to Nathaniel. Maestro. They have us.
Join the club, listen to Desmond, stop using magic, Nathaniel's answer came back, as they were led through the city.
We have to alert to the Academy she sent to Nathaniel. They will be caught completely unaware.
We can't, Nathaniel came back.
We can, she suddenly realized and spoke up as they walked.
“ I work as a translator on Jeffro.” she said. “I am the rank of Baroness. It entitles me to the royal army. If you keep me safe, my Queen will commit her army.”
That stopped them in their tracks, and they looked up at her.
“Why would she do that?”
“It is Jeffro. We protect our own. In exchange for my safety, they will keep me safe. Let me call my Queen.”
There was shuffling between them, and Desmond raised an eyebrow. He was proud of her, for coming up with such a strategy, but he wasn't sure that it was going to be effective. It seemed like such a see-through excuse.
But it was so see-through that it apparently came full circle.
“You can call them on the ship,” came the word and they kept walking.
“Thank you,” Sienna said, looking up at Desmond. That was her plan for getting through to the Academy Eliza would understand the code words that she was using, without a doubt.
But she knew when they landed at the Academy, they would have quite a fight on their hands. And as soon as they were taken aboard the ship, she saw what kind of fight it would be.
The Academy's forces would be matched, probably outmatched. They would need every ounce of fire power to fight this, and there would be many deaths.
There was no pull, no allure of being around those as powerful as she had been. She didn't want to be around them.
She didn't want to be a warrior in the way they meant.
As soon as she saw Prada, though, she knew that Prada did. The other girl looked like she had finally found her people. Her eyes were bright and she was taking in every word that they said. She looked more comfortable than Sienna had ever seen her.
“Sienna,” Nathaniel said, as they approached. They were being kept in comfortable quarters, which made Sienna realize that they were valuable hostages. They would either be traded for something as valuable, or forced to fight for this side. “Desmond.”
“This way,” someone grabbed Sienna, pulling her by the arm away.
“STOP,” Nathaniel said, but Sienna put her hand out.
“It's all right,” she said. “They are going to let me call Eliza and ask for the army to attend to me. I am a Baroness.”
Nathaniel's eye brows shot up through his forehead
“Right, of course,” he said. Prada took a step forward then, turning to her Maestro.
Jeffro's army will mean more death, she said.
Jeffro's army will even the playing field. With that kind of firepower, it's possible they will back off.
Maestro, they want recognition. They want peace. They want to serve.
“Prada!” he spoke out loud, snapping at her. Her eyes widened, and she quieted down in her mind.
Sienna was led away, and the three of them were left alone, inside the small room. It was sort of a private lounge, but looking around, anyone could see that it was heavily armored. They wouldn't be able to escape by any sort of force, and there was no doubt that there were several guards outside the door.
“Jeffro's army can only get there an hour beforehand at the most,” Nathaniel said, doing the calculation to Desmond. “And that's if they are half ready.”
“It's a good plan,” he said. “But it may not be enough. What did you two get up to?”
“We were treated to quite the tests and tour,” Nathaniel said. “ It was eerie, but they told us they just wanted to serve. The wrong way.”
Not the wrong way, a different way, Prada's voice came through and Nathaniel turned to her.
A different way, he said with his mind at last. Is that better?
Everyone is acting like this is the end of the world, Prada said. I think it could be a wonderful opportunity.
Dragon of the Prairie (Exiled Dragons Book 13) Page 71