“I do,” Nathaniel answered. “I have to talk to Desmond, at least. How long can you give me?”
“An hour?” Sybil replied. “I don't actually need you for a day or two, but I need to know the plan and soon.”
“I understand,” he replied. “I'll call you back.”
He hung up, his mind whirling. This whole thing was complicated enough, but the addition of Laura made things even more complex.
When he was last at home, he had a love affair with her. It was brief, and it wasn't exactly against Eliza's wishes. Up until this visit, they had rarely been together enough to consider being exclusive. Eliza didn't know about it, just as he didn't ask about what she did when he was away. Still, it felt like a secret that he was carrying.
He reached out for Desmond and found him asleep. He winced at the awkwardness of the situation, but he knew that it had to be done. Walking down the hall, he knocked on Desmond's door, knowing that Mariah was likely inside with him.
It took a few tries, but his former Maestro came to the door, leaving the room darkened.
“I have to talk to you,” Nathaniel said. “Now.”
“Is Sienna all right?”
“For now,” Nathaniel said. “Come with me.”
Once they were in the lounge, Nathaniel played the call for Desmond, which his tablet had automatically recorded. Desmond listened quietly, his face solemn.
“Delete that,” he said, and Nathaniel moved to do so.
“Of course, I just wanted you to hear her exact wording. She may sound calm, but it's pretty clear she's in distress. She wouldn't ask unless she was in serious trouble.”
“Her plan is sound,” Desmond replied. “If you take the emotions out of it, it's one of the best ones.”
“But the emotions are in it,” Nathaniel answered. “Yours, hers, mine, Mariah's. Not to mention that if we were assigned a quest at the Academy right now, I would cancel it because of Sienna.”
“What do you think?” Desmond asked him. “You are a Maestro as well as I.”
“I…,” Nathaniel sighed. “I don't know. There are too many factors.”
“Which choice puts everyone involved in the most danger?” Desmond asked.
“Going,” Nathaniel knew the answer quickly. “But, if you factor in what Reynolds is capable of, then staying.”
“So, we go,” Desmond said. “Our only question is whether to leave our Tiro.”
“That's not a question,” Nathaniel answered. “I'm not leaving her.”
Desmond held his gaze for a long moment, and then nodded.
“Fine,” he said. “I will inform Mariah. She'll at least want to know.”
“There is another option,” Nathaniel said slowly. “I could go with Sienna, and you could stay.”
“No,” Desmond was quick to speak. “Reynolds is my Tiro, and I will not walk away from him this time.”
“Maestro, you did not walk away from him the first time,” Nathaniel said, and Desmond gave him a small, pained smile.
“I gave up on him,” Desmond said. “We fought it for years, but in the end, he could only walk away because I accepted it.”
“Desmond, you know that's not true,” Nathaniel replied. “He didn't want to be a witch; he didn't want to work to help people. He was drunk on his power.”
“He chose a different path,” Desmond said. “Whether you or I believe it's wrong, is not the debate. A Tiro cannot go astray until their Maestro releases them from their commitments.”
“You aren't going to try and win him back?” Nathaniel asked in shock. “Get him to return to our side?”
“That ship has long sailed,” Desmond said. “And I have accepted that the Reynolds I tried to train, is not the Reynolds that remains. I know Sybil will do what she has to do for the good of the galaxy. But I would like to lay eyes on him one last time. So, I will be coming with you.”
“Even if it kills us all,” Nathaniel said dryly, knowing there was a good chance of that. As witches, this is what they always accepted as a possibility. To die in the service of magic was an honor–an acceptable form of return to the Earth. And even if he wasn't keen to do that, Sybil needed help. They needed to go, regardless of the massive complications. If this was how they could serve, beyond what the Jurors decided, then so be it.
Even if it did kill them all.
Chapter 5
Eliza said nothing about the fact that they were leaving. However, she was clearly not impressed that Nathaniel was running off on a dangerous mission that he wasn't even obligated to go on. She understood all the reasons–from Sybil, to needing to find Reynolds–but it still didn't make her any less annoyed as he packed.
“Please don't be like that,” Nathaniel said as he fit a final piece of clothing into his rucksack. Witches were supposed to have very little in terms of possessions, but they had gotten lax when they were here. “We'll be back as soon as we can.”
“I understand duty, Nathaniel,” Eliza said. “The problem is, this isn't duty. Not really. It's a choice that you are making and you spent an hour telling me how dangerous it is.”
“What am I supposed to do?” he asked. “She's my best friend.”
“And it has nothing to do with the blonde Maestro?”
He froze. “What are you talking about?”
“I'm not an idiot,” she said. “I saw the way you were looking at her last time I was at the Academy. I don't mind, Nathaniel; I can't swear you to my side. But it feels like you are running off to her, rather than to me.”
“I'm not,” he answered, taking a step toward her. “I swear, it has nothing to do with that. We had already made our choice before Sybil told me she was coming.”
Eliza took a step back, not wanting to be held just yet. “Sienna's life is being put in danger,” she said. “My medics agree.”
“Her life is always in danger,” Nathaniel answered.
“Nathaniel, she is a citizen of Jeffro,” Eliza snapped. “I have a right to protect her.
“But she's not,” Nathaniel replied. “She's a witch, and her life belongs to the magic.”
Eliza held her ground. They fought often, but this felt different, as if they had crossed a line.
“No,” she said. “Her life belongs to her. Does she even want to go?”
“Of course, she does,” Nathaniel said.
Eliza raised an eyebrow. “No, she doesn't. She wants to go wherever the two of you are, but she's perfectly happy for it to be here.”
“Eliza,” he put his hands to his face. “Please. I don't know what else to say. I have to go, and you have to accept it.”
“Mmm,” she said, and he didn't like the cold look that came over her face. “Always.”
And with that, she swept out of the room.
“Argh,” he punched the pillow on his bed where they had lain not an hour ago, snuggling. For years, she had accepted their relationship as it was: forbidden and with visits few and far between.
He didn't particularly want to leave her either. But the magic called to him, to his need to fight and continue growing. He couldn't remain in this limbo forever.
Finishing his bag, he threw it on his back and took one last look around the room. He had told her that he would be back, but he wasn't entirely sure that he would be. She was right; this was a dangerous mission. And the Jurors could make their choice at any time.
“Maestro,” Sienna's voice sounded at the door. She was leaning against the door frame, and he tensed. He was always cautious after she had such an episode, unsure when her strength would return. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” he said. “Where's your rucksack?”
“Desmond took it,” she said. “But I came to get you. The ship is ready.”
“Already?” he tried to put a smile on his face. “Were you going to leave without me?”
“No,” she grinned. “Of course not. You must pilot.”
“If I remember how,” he said, thinking it had been eight months since he had been
behind the wheel of a ship. “Are you well, little one?”
“Yes,” she said. “But I do not like space.”
“I know,” he indicated she should follow as they walked down the hallway. He was trying to keep his thoughts distracted so that she did not feel the anger that was within him. “Where's your blue sweater? That one is warm.”
“Rucksack,” she said, and he sighed.
“Not a good place for it. Get it out, otherwise you are going to get cold before we even leave the atmosphere.”
He led her down the twisting and turning hallways and into the hangar. It had been such a different feeling when they arrived. They were in a daze, unsure of what the future held. His secondary concern had been for Eliza and the attack on her main palace by her cousin, Ladd. Ladd was dead, resurrected accidentally by a spell Sienna had done. Luckily, those who walked through the door she made with the leftover ripples could not survive long, and he had soon vanished. So long as he could keep Sienna from doing resurrection magic, there should be no more accidental villains
It was not lost on him what a treasure that spell was and how she was the only one that could do it. Yet, the Jurors saw her Maestros' indiscretion as a possible reason to throw all of that away. He was devoted to the magic, but sometimes, he thought that they really didn't think things through.
“It's a Halifax Pier,” Desmond greeted him, naming the type of ship. “You've done a flight in those once or twice, right?”
“Yes,” Nathaniel replied. “Not the most comfortable to get to the Outer Rim, but perhaps not surprising.”
“You really should stop fighting with Eliza at inconvenient moments,” Desmond answered, trying to make light of the situation.
“Easier said than done,” Nathaniel answered, rolling his eyes. “Hop aboard, Sienna. Desmond and I will make sure that everything is ready.”
“Yes,” she scampered up the rack, and Nathaniel waited until she was out of earshot before he spoke with Desmond.
“Halifax Piers are well-equipped medically,” he said. “Eliza had that in mind, at least. She's angry about that part the most.”
“Of course,” Desmond said with a soft smile. “Just as Mariah used to get when she thought I mistreated you.”
“Mistreated?” Nathaniel was shocked. “I was never mistreated by you.”
“I know that, and you know that,” Desmond replied. “But you'd go to Mariah with your lip stuck out, and suddenly, I was in trouble.”
“I…,” Nathaniel paused and then managed a smile. “I suppose I may have done that once or twice.”
“Or three or four hundred times,” Desmond rolled his eyes with a smile. “Now you know what it's like. Eliza won't stay mad forever. It will be fine. It always is with the two of you.”
“Are you sure?” Nathaniel asked. “Because I'm not.”
“Go on board and set the coordinates,” Desmond answered. “These are just medical supplies and rations. As soon as they are set, I'll join you.”
“Right,” Nathaniel took a deep breath, looking around. “It seems odd to be leaving after so long. It was starting to feel like home.”
“Where is home?” Desmond answered, trying to prompt into an old adage.
“Magic,” Nathaniel said half-heartedly as he boarded the vessel.
Desmond was about to follow a moment later, the last of the boxes put aboard, when he sensed Mariah's presence.
Unlike Eliza, she understood completely why they had to go. She understood why Sybil had asked her to not to come, and she didn't protest when Desmond announced how soon they were leaving. She was worried–that much was clear–‘but not clouded with emotion. Now, she approached Desmond carefully, navigating the busy hangar.
They had already spent the night saying goodbye, but he was grateful for the last minute send off. He memorized every aspect of her face as she approached, burning it into his mind's eye. He never wanted to forget how she made him feel, how beautiful he felt her very soul was.
“Can you give this to Sybil when you see her?” Mariah held out a small, velvet bag, reaching for his strong hand.
“Of course,” Desmond answered. “What is it?”
“Quartz,” Mariah said, naming the most powerful of the witch crystals. Quartz would allow them to draw instant power no matter where they were. They could be seven feet underground in caves that had never seen the light of day and still draw magic from quartz as if they were in a majestic garden. “I want her to have a little bit extra of luck…just in case.”
“I'm sure she won't need it,” Desmond assured her, but slipped it in his pocket all the same.
“Please take care of her,” Mariah touched his arm. “She and Kierry can be so reckless sometimes. I know what they are up against.”
“As if they were my own Tiros,” Desmond assured her. “You will be reunited with her, I promise.”
“Take care of yourself as well,” Mariah replied. “This can't be easy, especially if I'm right about Sybil's plan. If she finds him, she likely doesn't intend to bring him in front of the Jurors. You and I both know that won't do any good.”
Desmond took a deep breath. “I know,” he answered. “She will do what is necessary, and I will accept it. We are just going to protect her, Mariah, to aid her. My priority is the quest she is on.”
“But your heart is with Reynolds,” Mariah answered.
“Do you not know me as a witch?” Desmond answered. “You know I would never betray–”
“I know you won't externally,” Mariah answered. “But I know your heart is torn. Just remember that Nathaniel needs you now and that Sienna needs you. That I need you.”
“I will,” he wrapped her in a tight hug, pulling her close. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, her very essence. “I will see you soon.”
If they were other people, other beings, perhaps even younger, they might have said that they loved each other. Instead, they pulled back, locking minds and exchanging emotion that nearly bowled both of them over.
It took every ounce of willpower for Desmond to tear away from her. He squeezed her hand one last time, and then turned, heading up the platform.
“Nathaniel!” he said to indicate that he was on board.
“Rise up,” came Nathaniel's cry from the pilot's chair. The platform began to rise, the mechanics clicking as it locked into place. Desmond strolled forward, settling into the co-pilot's seat and trying to distract his mind.
“It's unusually quiet up here,” Desmond said, looking around. “It's never good when things are quiet.”
“She's just exploring,” Nathaniel said. “This is a warship; she's only ever dreamed of being on one. Are you ready?”
“Aye,” Desmond said as Nathaniel powered up. He flicked a switch on the ceiling, activating the intercom system.
“Sienna, buckle up, wherever you are,” he said, his voice echoing through the ship. Both of them paused, waiting to feel the answer that she was safe. Desmond put his hand on the left thruster and Nathaniel on the right.
As soon as they felt her settled at the back of the ship, they pushed the handles forward.
The ship fired up, and they bolted out of the hangar. Nathaniel hung a hard left, and they rose, indicating they were headed to the intergalactic highway. They passed the clouds and through the atmosphere, and then he flipped the switches, pushing them into hyperspace. Desmond braced himself for the jump as Nathaniel engaged the thrusters further.
‘Reynolds.’ He reached out with his mind, trying to ping him. He used to do it every morning, just as he did with all those he cared about. He always felt him, but it was always filled with pain and sadness.
This time, he felt fear.
‘I'm coming, Desmond sent. It fit for their undercover mission, but it wasn't for the right motives. ‘I'm coming to you, Tiro.’
Chapter 6
Once they were in hyperspace, Nathaniel was able to set the controls to autopilot. It was over twenty-four hours until they reached thei
r destination, and he hated sitting in the pilot's seat for longer than he needed to.
“I bet Christa could find a way to get us there in three,” he said as he got up. He was referring to Desmond's former Tiro, before him, and after Reynolds. Christa was known for being the best pilot the Academy had ever had. Desmond jerked out of the daze he was in.
“Not without killing us,” he replied, watching Nathaniel.
“I was under the impression that she just cared about getting into the record books,” Nathaniel answered. “So, her passengers being dead doesn't really matter.”
“That could be correct,” Desmond answered. “Where are you going?”
“Do you know how long it's been since I've been on a Halifax Pier?” he asked. “I'm exploring, too.”
“Call if you get stuck in an escape hatch,” Desmond replied half-heartedly, turning his attention back to the window. The stars were going by too fast to see anything, but he seemed content to gaze out into the blackness.
Nathaniel left him to his thoughts, making his way to the back of the ship.
‘Sienna,’ he called out, unsure of where she had gotten to.
‘Here,’ came the reply, and he followed the ping until he came into the gun deck. There was one gun up on the command deck, and the rest were down below. She was sitting in one of the chairs, the periscope at her waist, and her eyes glued to it.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “Are you going to blast someone out of the sky? I don't think you can do that at hyperspace.”
“I know,” she said, as she pulled back. “But I've only sat at fake ones.”
“In school?” he asked, and she nodded. “Well, I failed there. I should have at least taught you.”
“Mmm,” she fiddled with the buttons idly. “This doesn't require magic.”
“Pushing a button and firing a gun?” he asked. “No, it doesn't.” He took a seat opposite her, and she looked to him, picking at the red paint over the buttons that was coming off.
“But it is easier with magic,” she said.
“Not necessarily,” he said. “There are many sharpshooters renowned for their skill who don't have any magic at all to anticipate or aim. You have to remember, Sienna, magic can always be traced, no matter how careful or how skilled you are. So, if you trying to shoot someone without them noticing, you have to hope that they aren't pinging for your magic.”
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