“Hello,” he said, cautiously “I'm sorry if I startled you.”
They looked between each other, and Desmond was worried they didn't understand Basic. He had a few other languages up his sleeve, but certainty not as many as Sienna. Luckily, for him, one of them answered him after a moment.
“It's okay,” he said. “You want to play?”
“Hmm,” he crouched down, trying not to invade their space. “Sure.”
He wanted to observe their magic to see if there was any chance they were Tiros. He had a feeling they weren't, and he certainly didn't know any other quests here. They wouldn't have reacted to him in such a way if they had begun training and they were incredibly young to be away from the school. There was no quest he knew of that would send this many teams out, so young.
“That's wonderful, what you can do,” he said. “Where did you learn it?”
“We always could do it, mister,” one said. “Everybody can.”
“Everybody can?” Desmond raised an eyebrow. “I'm not so sure about that.”
“Everybody we work with can.”
“Where?” he asked.
“At the workhouse. All our friends can.”
“Are you…paid at this workhouse?” he asked.
“Yes, we have proper jobs,” one who couldn't be older than five said. Desmond knew that in some cultures this was perfectly acceptable. And he realized it was similar to what they did in the academy, starting that at such a young age. In some alien cultures, five years old was mature. Still, it was shocking to see it out of a humanoid. “Have to.”
“Why do you have to?” Desmond asked.
“Because we don't have families.”
“Oh,” Desmond replied. “And how did you find out about this…job?”
“Pedro told me,” said another voice.
“Whose Pedro?”
“He's the boss.”
“Of course.” Desmond straightened up. He trusted magic, absolutely, and now he was starting to realize that there was a reason they were stranded here. The magic had wanted them to find this place. He had to find out more about these children, this workhouse.
He had a feeling they were being paid low wages, as orphans, to magically enhance productivity. Machines could do a lot, but they couldn't do what magic could.
“Are you going to dinner?” he asked.
“Of course!” they echoed, as if that was the silliest thing in the world. He didn't want to invade their space for too long, so he bid them goodbye, leaving them to keep playing.
He had never heard of this before. The school did such a good job of identifying those who had magical ability. No one was forced to train, of course, but they usually did. Having one or two with stray magic in a place would be one thing. But in this situation, it seems that they were sought out, and perhaps taught that there were no other options.
He wanted to meet this Pedro, and find out more. But he had a feeling the way to any information was going to be through the children.
He headed back down the hallway, prepared to tell Sienna what he had found. He expected her to be ready to go, perhaps unpacking, as she usually did in a new place.
He was not prepared to find her curled up on the bed, tears sliding down her face.
“What's happened?” he asked, in shock. He reached out with his magic to Nathaniel on the ship, but could feel that his former Tiro was perfectly safe.
She shook her head, wiping her tears away.
“Nothing,” she said.
“Obviously, something has happened,” Desmond said, as he shut the door. “You don't have to hide, little one.”
“I—“ She sucked in a deep breath. “I'm afraid, to go to dinner. I don't want to be sick. I was doing so well.”
Fear was an emotion that witches weren't supposed to feel. Desmond sat carefully on the edge of the bed, trying to figure out how he had left her accepting the dinner invitation without any balking to now sobbing into her hands.
“You are doing very well,” he said. “And accepting the invitation, despite your limitations has gained us some trust, which we need to find these parts.”
“But—”
“There is always something you can have, isn't there?” Desmond asked. “Even if it's small? This is not the type of place that has fresh food, Sienna. Everything will come from a package, I assure you.”
She met his eyes, sniffling, and nodded.
“All right,” he said. “Go and take a shower, relax, and when we go down, we will be calm, won't we?”
She nodded, taking a deep breath, and then got off the bed. “But—”
“You will find a way,” he said. “This won't be the first time you will have anxiety about accepting an invitation. If it is necessary, there will always be a way. Go.”
She knew there was no point in arguing, and so she slunk into the bathroom, shutting the door. He couldn't imagine any shower in this bathroom was going to be relaxing, but the very act of doing so might be enough to calm her.
As soon as the door was shut, he picked up the com-link she had discarded. When he heard the water running, he called Nathaniel back.
“Sienna?” Nathaniel answered, and Desmond realized what had happened.
“What did you say to her?”
“Maestro?” Nathaniel changed gears. “Sorry, I thought you were—”
“Yes, I know,” Desmond replied. “What did you say to her just now?”
“Nothing,” Nathaniel said, surprised “She was upset about the food, that was all. I reminded her that she was different, and she needed to be careful, but that you would take care of her.”
Desmond sighed. “Nathaniel,” he got up, drifting away from the bathroom. “She was fine when I left. She was the one who accepted the invitation and who knew it was a good idea to get the locals to trust us so we could find these damned parts. She was content and then she talks to you and she turns into a quivering child again. You can't do that to her. She's got to learn to take care of herself.”
“Sorry?” Nathaniel said. “You know how sick she is—”
“I know how sick she was,” Desmond replied. “And I know that we made decisions that made her illness very bearable. She doesn't know how to take care of herself, because you…”
“Because of me?” Nathaniel answered. “Because I'm focused on training a Tiro, rather than abandoning one?”
“Nathaniel,” Desmond's voice had a growl in it. “Your current task is the ship. Mine is our Tiro.”
“For how much longer?” Nathaniel asked, and the line went dead.
Desmond shook his head in shock. Nathaniel had never in his life ended a call like that. Had he still been a Tiro, he would have been reprimanded beyond belief for such behavior. When they had entered into this agreement, he had hoped it would be in peace. There was enough war in the galaxy without going into battle with Nathaniel.
Chapter 9
Nathaniel felt like he was going to throw the com link across the room. He had been working tirelessly throughout the day, pushing his magic to the limits and wincing every time a gust of air so much as flicked his wrist, to get the heat back on and the basics of the ship running. There was no one else on board that could help him with the fine work, although Eliza had been through his side through every moment, holding tools and offering conversation.
Now, she had heard every word that had transpired between Sienna, himself, and Desmond.
“What's his problem?” she asked Nathaniel, as the conversation ended.
Nathaniel shook his head. “There's not enough time to get into the delusions he has in his head in the moment.”
Eliza's eyebrows shot up through her hair. “In all your years, I've never heard you talk about Desmond that way,” she said. “You've been so angry at him, and so confused, but you've never been rude to him like that.”
“It's just…” Nathaniel said, and then realized what he might be revealing. “There are going to be some very long talks in the future.”
>
“About what?” she asked, leaning against the wall. Nathaniel shook his head. “Now you're hiding things from me?”
“I'm not.” Nathaniel took a deep breath. “Desmond told me before he left. This is a last test with Sienna. He's pretty certain that he can do nothing for her.”
“What?” Eliza's jaw dropped. “He's going to leave her?”
“I think so,” Nathaniel said. “That's why he pushing this independence, these lessons she's not ready for.”
“But if he leaves her,” Eliza said. “She'll still have you.”
“Of course, she will,” Nathaniel said. “But for a Maestro to leave a Tiro is almost unheard of it. It will be a black mark on his record, and he already has a few.”
“I don't think Desmond cares what black marks the Jurors have against him,” Eliza said. “How can he leave her, though?”
“Because he feels that her training is as far as it can go with a lack of magic. He lacks creativity, he lacks academic…” Nathaniel slammed his good hand against the wall. “We were supposed to be in this together, Eliza. This was his idea, his plan for both of us to take on a task almost too difficult to manage. Neither of us could do it without the other, and now he wants to break her heart and leave me alone.”
Eliza stepped forward, placing a calming hand on his arm. “And if he leaves her?” she asked.
“I won't,” Nathaniel assured. “I never will.”
“But do you think you can do it yourself?” she said. Nathaniel's eyes flashed.
“Of course, I can,” he said. “I'll get her through to the tests and then maybe we'll find another just like her, and work together.”
Eliza smiled. “I was only thinking,” she said. “That there would always be a place on Jeffro for her, if you did want to…”
“I don't want to,” Nathaniel assured her. “I never would. Difficult doesn't bother me.”
“Mm…” She put both arms around his neck, drawing him in for a kiss. “That I know.”
The impact of her lips on his calmed him down, it always did. She pulled back to meet his eyes, remembering the first time that she looked into those eyes, when she was just a teenager.
“It'll be all right,” she assured him. “All of this well.”
“I know,” he said. “And I know that anger distracts from the magic. I just can't ignore what Desmond is doing right now.”
“I think he's doing what he believes is right,” Eliza replied. “You may not feel that it's right, but his heart may say he can't go on like this. And so it's time for you to pick up where he left off. Isn't that the trail a Maestro leads a Tiro, anyways?”
“So philosophical,” he replied. “I'm hoping that spending time with her will make him realize how wrong he is.”
“It may,” Eliza answered. “Or it may make him realize that he's right. Either way, if you believe that the magic is guiding you, there's not much you can do from here.”
Suddenly, the lights kicked out and the hum of the heater switched off. Nathaniel swore, breaking apart from his lover. “I thought I had that fixed.”
“Clearly not,” Eliza replied, looking around. “But I'm sure you'll figure it out. What can I do to help?”
“Get some light,” he replied. “And a jacket. It's going to get cold again.”
“It's cold already,” she said, but left the room. Eliza had always been a hands-on Queen. Those who didn't know her might be surprised to find her in the engine room, but Nathaniel knew that if there was a problem she could assist in solving, she'd be ankle deep in it without hesitation.
With one arm useless, he had to re-think a lot of the procedures before he did them. It wasn't easy, and he had a feeling he was making things worse. Just as he was squinting over an open hatch, he heard a screech of metal behind him.
“Eliza?” he spun around, wondering if she had tripped over something on her way back in.
There was nothing in the darkness behind him, which made him tense.
“Hello?” he called again, straightening up.
Another bash of metal came, and it occurred to him that it was coming from outside the ship.
He exited the engine room, rounding the corner to a porthole.
To his horror, what he saw were two pirate ships, parked alongside his. There were at least forty pirates and scalpers, with massive weapons, and they were apparently taking no prisoners. Scrap metal in this good of condition was probably hard to come by.
Nathaniel, however, wasn't interested in becoming scrap metal.
“JONAH!” he screamed through the hallway. He wasn't sure where the lucky survivor guard was, but he couldn't be far. Jonah had been organizing guard detail of the ship, for just this reason.
Jonah came hurtling down the hallway, Eliza on his tail. His weapon was already in his hands, and from the look of cockiness on his face, Nathaniel had a feeling he already had a plan.
“Pirates, eh?” Jonah said, as he peaked out the window. “No problem.”
“There's quite a few of them,” Nathaniel said, and turned to Eliza. His instinct lately in battle was to reach out and hide someone take care of someone.
But he quickly realized that no one on the ship needed that kind of protection. Eliza was a battle queen, and her ladies in waiting were equally trained. Eliza's guards were second to none, she made sure of it.
While he wanted to protect Eliza, and while it was his duty, her skills in pure combat were almost equal to his. It was only his magic that put him above her, and currently, he wasn't able to use much of it.
“What's your plan?” he asked Jonah, who shrugged.
“Open the door and blast them into outer space?” Jonah suggested.
Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Not the best plan,” he said. “Given that we are outnumbered.”
“Do you have a better one?” Jonah replied. “Because in a moment, they are going to be coming through the walls and you can ask them yourself.”
“Not particularly,” Nathaniel growled, as he thought.
“We aren't so badly outnumbered,” Eliza said. “This is straight combat. Jonah's plan isn't bad. I do think we should open more than one door, though. Come at them from all angles”
“And have them able to infiltrate the ship from all angles,” Nathaniel replied.
“Have faith.” She grinned, as another guard handed her a gun. “We'll be all right.”
“You should stay here,” Nathaniel said to Eliza. “It's our job to…”
“I will not stand by when I don't need to,” Eliza replied. “They won't know what hit them. Isn't that right, Jonah?”
“As you wish, your highness.” Jonah grinned at Nathaniel. “You should know better than to argue with her.”
“I should,” Nathaniel answered reluctantly “But I don't. Fine. Divide up as you see fit. I'll stay here at this door.”
“And I'll stay with you,” Eliza said. “When you're ready, Jonah, send a signal.”
“With what power?” Jonah asked, and Nathaniel saw his chance.
“Think it, with great certainty,” he said. “I should be able to pick up on your thoughts, and send it to the others.”
“Advantage of fighting with a witch,” Jonah said with a grin. “Good luck to you.”
“We won't need luck,” Eliza answered. “We will just need skill and time.”
“Go,” Nathaniel said, as a blast rocked the ship. These were pirates who clearly weren't going to wait for an answer.
“See you in a moment,” Jonah grinned and headed down the hall. Nathaniel shook his head.
“I've never seen a man so joyous to go into battle.”
“Jonah is a bit…different than most.” Eliza replied. “He was born to be a warrior, I think.”
“Aye,” Nathaniel answered. “I know that feeling.”
He monitored Jonah's thoughts carefully, waiting for the right moment. He found it easy to lock onto the young Captain of the guards, who had such similar morals and motives compared to himself.
“On the count of three…” Nathaniel said, facing Eliza. “Ready? 1-2-.”
In typical Queen of Jeffro fashion, she didn't wait for three. She burst through the door, firing as she did. Her jaw was set, and Nathaniel focused on every place her cover fire missed, hitting the pirates before they even had a chance to think. He locked onto her mind, looking for the gaps in her aim and making it up with his own laser bullets.
They were perfectly in sync, his entire mind moving with hers. He didn't think about anything else besides the battle, the moment, the next shot.
It turned out to be remarkably easy. Pirates were untrained warriors, and they stood no chance against a one-armed witch and Eliza's Jeffroian guards
In the end, the group was left panting in the middle of bodies, grinning to each other over their victory.
“How was that?” Eliza asked Nathaniel, who laughed.
“That, was amazing,” he said. “I haven't had a battle like that in ten years. Is it strange to hope for many more to come?”
“Not if that's what you are meant to do,” Eliza said, leaning into him for a kiss. There was no one around who cared to dampen their mood, and he lost himself in the moment that he rarely could have.
Chapter 10
“As in they could be witches?” Sienna said, softly, as they walked down stairs. Although her tears were dry, he could see that she was still nervous, which he cursed Nathaniel for. He wasn't going to assure her time and time again she would be fine. They would be fine. She had to learn to find courage within.
“They are born with magic,” he said. “You know as well as I do that being born with magic does not bring you through the tests.”
“Like me,” she said, and he sighed.
“Yes, little one, like you.”
The change in her mood from earlier was evident, and he hoped that there would be enough food to distract her from what Nathaniel had caused her to dwell on.
He hadn't expected to walk into a dining hall full of children. He expected a place like this to have a tiny available cafeteria, with yesterday's food being served. The dining hall was larger than most of the building, taking up the entire floor of the basement. There were at least twenty children eating, running, yelling, and, to both their amazement, using magic. They used magic for everything picking up their forks, choosing their food, and even throwing a piece of food or two at each other, with giggles.
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