“I still feel like that,” Mariah said with a smile. “Even though we are the old, wise Maestros, we need help from time to time.”
“Well, he gave Nathaniel a meter of discipline for raising his voice in the hall the other day,” Desmond said. “So there's that.”
Mariah chuckled, enjoying their closeness and their moment alone. It was times like this that she felt the most connected to him, when they could share their joys and fears in simple sentences. Without Desmond, she knew she wouldn't have been able to regain her independence or her life after her accident. It was only because of his belief in her strength that she learned to work again.
They were both so lost in the moment that they didn't notice the curtain slide back. Tara came through, clearly expecting Desmond and Sienna to be in the exact position she had left them an hour ago.
She didn't expect Desmond to be cuddling like a teenager with Maestro Mariah.
Both of them jumped three feet in the air, turning to Tara. The healer chose her words carefully.
“I didn't realize you were busy,” she said.
Desmond cleared his throat. “Are you just doing a vital check?” he asked. “She seems stable.”
“I could do a vital check a lot easier from my station if you'd let me use magic,” Tara answered. Desmond cocked his head, annoyed.
“We've been over this,” he said. “It's late, Tara, and you know our wishes.”
“That I do,” she answered, looking between Desmond and Mariah again. Neither of them could say anything without causing guilt, and so they said nothing, hoping for the awkwardness of the moment to be over. Tara eventually tore her gaze away, and leaned over to Sienna, putting a hand on her wrist.
“Isn't Nathaniel the night contact?” she asked Desmond as she looked at her watch.
“He is, normally,” Desmond answered, “but I sent him to get some rest.”
“He'd rest better if the Queen of Jeffro wasn't in his bed,” Tara answered.
Desmond growled at that. “I'm sorry?”
“You heard me,” Tara spun around. “Clearly, I see where he gets it.”
Desmond held her gaze.
“Do you have something to say, Tara? Because it was my impression that you chose a medic's path, not a Juror's path.”
“I could have…” she started, her blood boiling. She hated that they came in here and threatened her medical opinion, and dismissed it for their alternative and, in her opinion, dangerous theories. It was no question in her mind why she saw Sienna get worse year after year. Yes, the acridid gene should have killed her by now. But on a scale of progression, Tara was torn between reporting them for neglect or not.
Sienna suddenly gasped as if she had to get every bit of oxygen into her lungs. Everyone turned their attention toward her as the monitors started to beep. Her oxygen stats fell, and her eyes flew open as she fought for breath.
“Creator,” Tara swore as she moved quickly, trying to find the problem. She hit the alarm, and two other healers rushed in, assessing the damage.
“What's happening?” Desmond's calm demeanor slipped away as he stood up. Mariah pushed her chair back, and it clattered to the floor, sensing the panic in the room. “Tara. Tara!”
“Shut up a second!” Tara snapped at him, her eyes on fire. “I'm trying to figure it out, but her acridid genes block half our systems. Yasmine?”
The other healer knew that she wasn't allowed to use magic as an assessment, but it was against the clock. She took Tara's nod as permission and put her hands on Sienna's chest, flooding her system with sensing magic.
Sienna choked, and the color slipped from her face as she fought for breath.
The red magic created a diagram of her body, and Tara could see the issue right away. “Her lung collapsed,” she said, and the other healers worked in tandem, grabbing the necessary supplies. “Move fast, ladies.”
“Sienna!” Desmond moved at lightning speed to roll her over. She threw up on the floor, the fact made much more miserable by barely being able to breathe. “Tara, you were not to use that magic on her.” He was angry, and the whole room knew it.
“And if I didn't, she would have died,” Tara snapped, but Desmond was past reason.
“You directly disobeyed an order that I, as a senior Maestro, gave you,” he snapped back at her. His rage grew by the fact that his Tiro fought for air and convulsed in pain. “Remove yourself from this case. Now.”
“Desmond…” Mariah put a hand on his shoulder.
“No,” he gritted his teeth. “She put her in danger when I–”
“Desmond, let GO!” Tara wrenched Sienna out of his grip, recognizing the signs of aspiration. “Suction, now.”
“We can't suction and inflate!” Yasmine protested, but Tara shook her head.
“You're going to have to,” she said, glancing at the failing stats. “You have one minute to do both or we're going to lose her.”
“She would not be aspirating if you didn't use magic on her!” Desmond snapped.
Mariah wrapped her hands around his waist, pulling him back. “Desmond, come here,” she said. “Stay back. Let them work. Please, let them work.”
Her touch was just enough to get him to drop his voice, but she could feel him shaking in anger. He had seen the horrors of war and had witnessed death, destruction, and gore. But nothing compared to watching his Tiro fight for life in front of him.
‘Sienna,’ he reached for her through his bond, grasping Mariah's hand for strength. ‘Stay with me, little one. Stay with me.’
“Desmond!” Wherever Nathaniel had been, he had felt the disturbance in the magic. He rushed into the curtained room, his shirt undone. The lipstick stain on his collarbone was broadly visible, and his cheeks were flushed.
Sienna's vitals flatlined, and Nathaniel howled, dreading that sound.
“No!” he screamed out, and Mariah grabbed him as well. She was small, and she couldn't hold the two of them back with sheer force. It was only the bond, the love between them as a family that kept them back. “NO!”
“Gavoline, 400 mg,” Tara said, and Yasmine opened the cart. “Push it hard, and if that doesn't work…”
‘Sienna,’ Nathaniel searched for the bond that he gotten used to.
“Not like this,” Nathaniel spoke out loud. “Not like this, please.”
“600 mg,” Tara said, watching the monitor
“But that will–” Yasmine said, and Tara cut her off.
“She'll be dead either way then.”
Nathaniel felt his knees go weak, and he squeezed Mariah's hand.
The second needle didn't make a difference. Tara took a deep breath.
“I can't give her anymore,” Tara said. “It won't make a difference.”
“No,” Desmond said in a broken voice. “No. Try again, Tara! You got us into this mess–”
“You got her into this mess!” Tara yelled. “Had you been paying attention to facts instead of distracting yourself–”
“Tara, please try something else,” Nathaniel managed. “Please!”
“I can't,” Tara held her hands up. “There's nothing to try.”
Silence fell over the room, and no one dared to move.
“This is how it ends?” Nathaniel turned to Desmond, brokenhearted. He sounded like a small child again – so lost.
‘Maestro?’ Her body shifted, and then her eyes flew open. Her newly inflated lungs took in their first gasps of air, and her eyes leaked tears as she came back to consciousness.
“Oh, Creator,” Nathaniel reached forward, grabbing her hand. “I'm here, little one. I'm here.”
Desmond, however, had a different reaction. He cast his eyes across the bed to Tara.
“You're off the case,” he said calmly. “You will not be near my Tiro again, do you hear me?”
“You can't do that, Desmond,” she said, her jaw set. “I just saved her life.”
“After you almost killed her,” Desmond answered. “And disobeying the wish
es of her Maestro, which in the end, is the ultimate line. I will report you to the Jurors for the damage you caused.”
“Oh, will you?” Tara said, raising an eyebrow and looking between him and Mariah. “I imagine I'll get there first.”
And with that, she swept out of the room.
Chapter 17
Laura's com-link beeped, and she jumped. She and Christa had been bent over their books in the middle of the library for hours. They had created chaos of the advanced magic section, unshelving nearly every book. They had narrowed it down to a few topics they thought would help them, and they were deep into the dusty tomes.
“Ah,” she said as Christa looked up, “my Tiro.”
“I should get another one of those one day,” Christa said as Laura answered the call.
“Devon? Are you all right?”
“I'm fine,” Devon answered. “But you may want to come watch the gates of hell open up.”
“Sorry?” Laura asked, confused, and then lowered her voice when the librarian glared at her.
“Maestro Desmond and Maestro Mariah are being called in front of the Jurors for improper conduct right now.”
“Holy…” Laura said as Christa's head popped up.
“What?”
“What happened?” Laura asked as she stood up. She picked up the book she was halfway through. Christa was equally in a rush, listening carefully.
“No idea,” Devon answered. “I went to the cafeteria, and it was like the march of the damned.”
“Oh, my God,” Christa said, her hands shaking. “I told them this would happen.”
“This is ridiculous,” Laura said, as she promised Devon she would be there in a moment. “It's not like we haven't all been in that position.”
Christa paused, and Laura felt her stomach sink.
“I mean, some of us. This life isn't easy, and we've all been tempted at some point.”
“Temptation is not action,” Christa replied. “Nor is it prosecution. But Desmond was my Maestro, and I need to find out what's happening.”
“Right,” Laura felt her walls go up a bit more with the older woman. She had heard of witches being prosecuted for improper conduct, but she always thought they were just sloppy or careless. She had never seen Desmond and Mariah do anything improper. But what their Tiros knew, however, was a different story. From the look on Christa's face, she could see they knew more than what was in the public eye.
They made it out of the library just as the procession walked by. Christa's heart sank as she saw the way they were being escorted. It meant they had serious allegations against them, because the guards were on either side. They had their heads held high, and their wrists weren't bound, but they might as well have been.
“Desmond,” Christa said, getting his attention. She joined the procession, walking on the outside. The guards shifted, but she didn't try to push past them, and so they let her walk. “What can I do?”
“Christa,” Desmond gritted his teeth, “Nathaniel and Sienna are still in the med bay. Go there, take care of them.”
“Of course,” she said. She knew there was no point in asking him what the hell was going on. She could only offer her assistance as this played out. “Anything you need.”
“Do not let Tara near Sienna,” Desmond said, as they turned to the corner. “I don't care if you have to take her off-planet. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Christa answered, as they went through the sliding doors. She touched Laura's arm, “I'm sorry. I have to go.”
“Of course,” Laura said. “Everyone is going to be abuzz with this in a moment. I should find my Tiro before this gets out of hand.”
“I'll see you,” Christa said, and headed down the hallway. It was only once she was halfway to the med bay that she had a vague memory of Nathaniel and Laura standing way too closely in the cafeteria.
Christa was starting to wonder if she was the only witch who could keep her hands to herself.
The sliding glass doors to the med bay opened, and she went straight through. But when she got to the room where Sienna had been kept, it was empty.
She spun around to find a passing healer.
“My apologies, I must be lost. I'm looking for Sienna? She was right here?”
“Sienna was discharged an hour ago,” the healer answered in a surly tone. “I have no idea where her Maestro has taken her. Good luck to her.”
“Discharged?” Christa answered in shock. “She was in no shape to be discharged.”
“I agree,” the healer paused. “But that was her Maestro's choice.”
“What in the world…?” Christa said as the healer walked away. She closed her eyes, searching the magic. She was a practical woman, and she wasn't about to run through the entire school, looking for Nathaniel and Sienna.
She wasn't bonded to either of them, but they both had a connection to Desmond, and so she attempted to route her magic backward through the bond. It was neither advanced or an exact science, but after a moment, she found Nathaniel's energy in the residential area.
When Desmond had taken her on, she had never thought she'd be the one rescuing him. She was so lost, so hurt, and she thought she would never pull herself out of her dark mind. She missed Diana so much, and yet, Desmond had healed that wound and made her a witch again. Now, he was counting on her.
She placed her palm onto Nathaniel's door, knowing that she was pre-approved. It slid open, and sure enough, there was Sienna, crashed out on his bed and breathing a bit raggedly. Nathaniel and Queen Eliza were sitting at the desk, and no one looked top form.
“Creator, Nathaniel, what's happening?” Christa asked as she felt Sienna's life force. “She shouldn't be here.”
“Tara nearly killed her,” Nathaniel answered grimly. “Desmond and I are done with the med bay here.”
“And somehow this turned into prosecution for Desmond for a relationship he's had for almost forty years?” Christa asked, confused.
“Tara's revenge,” Nathaniel answered. “And I'm sure this is just the beginning”
“Which explains why you two are hiding out here. No offense, your highness,” Christa answered as she sat at the edge of the bed. “She's in rough shape, Nathaniel. This is dangerous.”
“Don't I know it,” Nathaniel answered, biting his lip. Christa noted he had a grip on Eliza's hand. “I don't know what to do.”
“Where were you?”
“Library,” Christa answered, not thinking. “Laura and I were just…” And then she stopped herself, remembering that she wasn't going to mention that part to Nathaniel.
“Laura?” Nathaniel asked.
Eliza picked up on that tone. “Who's Laura?”
“Devon's Maestro,” Nathaniel answered smoothly. “The boy Sienna has been hanging around.”
“The blonde one?” Eliza answered. “She's pretty.”
“She's all right,” Nathaniel said, but his voice was practically an admission of guilt. Eliza looked like she wanted to say something, but kept her mouth closed. “What were you doing in the library with her?”
“Just killing time,” Christa answered. “I ran into her there. Anyway, what's your plan? Because until the Jurors present a case, we can't do anything. You know that.”
“So I just sit here and wait?” Nathaniel asked. He looked haggard, and Christa didn't blame him. Desmond was in trouble, Eliza's planet was in jeopardy, and Sienna needed help. He was torn in three different directions, and none of them had easy solutions. “I hate this.”
“Let's deal with this first,” Christa said, touching Sienna's wrist. “Tell me the truth, Nathaniel. If you keep her here, are you experienced enough to deal with what she might need? The way she is now?”
Nathaniel let out a long breath. “Maybe. So long as she gets better and not worse. She slipped because of what Tara did, not of her own accord. So we might be alright. But without Desmond…you know, it's so…” his face twisted. “It's stupid. Desmond has never been anything but devoted t
o the magic or the cause. Whether or not he's with Mariah should not matter.”
Christa gave him a painful smile. “You and I both know that Desmond has walked a grey line for a very long time. And while it's worked in his favor, the Jurors have never been pleased with it. Everyone is going to have to be more careful from now on.”
“I would take her to Jeffro,” Eliza said softly, “but the most advanced medical facility was in the palace. So obviously, that's not an option right now. I was due to speak to the Jurors at this moment, by the way. So my case has been sidelined.”
“You were supposed to speak to the Jurors now?” Christa's head whirled. “But they bumped you?”
Eliza looked confused. “Yes.”
“They can't do that,” Christa was recalling ancient systems into existence in her mind. “Your case is more pressing. Granting asylum is a human rights issue, and in addition, royalty has been attacked.”
“But I am currently safe,” Eliza pointed out. “And there have been no more attacks on Jeffro. Whoever was behind it wanted me dead, and me alone.”
“It doesn't matter,” Christa spoke quickly. “You are queen, so it overtakes any of our issues. It's an old law, but one that might work in our favor. As witches, we serve others before ourselves. You have to go now.”
“Go where?” Eliza asked, confused.
“Take her to the Jurors, Nathaniel,” Christa said. “And invoke the law of deliverance. They have to hear her case before Desmond's. And if you can drag it out long enough, it might give us more time to help Desmond.”
Nathaniel turned frantically to his lover. “Can you draw it out?”
“Nathaniel, I am a queen,” Eliza answered. “I can stand in front of the Jurors and speak for hours on end if I have to. Days. But are you sure this will work?”
“Yes,” Christa answered. “But you need to go fast before they see them. I'll stay with Sienna, Nathaniel.”
“Are you sure?” Nathaniel answered cautiously. “I mean–”
“I'm not going to let anything happen to her,” Christa assured him. “Just as I never let anything happen to you in your youth. She is my Maestro's Tiro; she takes priority.”
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