The Riddle (Alternate Dimensions Book 2)

by Blake B. Rivers

  “Nothing?” she replied. “How many were there?”

  “Half a hundred,” he shrugged. “Desmond got caught up with a misfit who won't ever make the tests, but you know how Desmond can be.”

  “I didn't think he would be taking a new Tiro?” she questioned.

  “He probably won't,” Nathaniel answered. “There's a Jeffro stopover next Monday that's just become listed. It's only four hours, but I could take it if you like.”

  “Monday?” she asked, clicking a few keys. “When?”

  “At four p.m.,” he answered. She shook her head.

  “No good. Find something else.”

  “You know, it's not that easy, Eliza,” he growled as he clicked the box to bid for the quest anyway. “Unless you specifically request a witch to assist you, I can't just stop there.”

  “Well, I don't need help.” She shrugged, and he grinned.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “I don't need help with anything that a generic witch could offer,” she replied. “A specific one though…”

  That brought his attention back to the screen rapidly. “Oh really?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. “What is it you need help you?”

  She smiled, and he knew what was coming. Making sure that the door was locked, he dimmed his lights and turned down the sound on his monitor. She may be a universe away right now, but it didn't mean they couldn't give each other pleasure.

  Chapter 4

  “Five-six-seven-eight!” Desmond bent his knee just as Mariah leapt, watching her intently. She used the magic to judge her surroundings – to judge the walls and the floor, and to propel herself forward. She was still a strong warrior, still in good shape, and could still outfight most people. Still, her blindness put her just off balance, and he managed to steady her as she went by, quickly placing a hand on her taut stomach. She landed like a cat – soft and crouching.

  “How was that?”

  “It was fine,” he replied, not wanting to admit he was a bit out of breath. Mariah was focused, relentless, and they had been at this for hours.

  “It was sloppy,” she said, shaking her head as she stood up. “And you know it.”

  “Mariah,” he said, as he stood as well. “It was better than most could do, never mind a lack of sight and age.”

  “Age?” She quirked an eyebrow. “Do you think I've gotten old?”

  “I think that's a fact,” he answered. “But it does not make you any less–”

  “Hello!” a voice called out, cutting him off.

  Both of them turned, interrupted in their training. Sienna was standing at the door of the empty training room, looking on in curiosity. Desmond was aware that the off-planet visitors would stay another day or two, to take advantage of the headquarters' amenities. Whatever she was supposed to be doing, she appeared to have broken away from her group.

  “Hello, little one,” he said. “Mariah, it's Sienna. We were just training.”

  “You are Maestros,” she managed, and even Mariah had to smile at that.

  “Yes,” she said. “But even Maestros need training every once in a while.”

  Sienna cocked her head, registering that Mariah's eyes were sightless. She paused, unsure of how to proceed, and then turned back to Desmond. “You…qualify for me? To fight?”

  He took a moment to think through what she might have meant. “Modify?” he asked. “Modify training for you?”

  She nodded. “You have occurrence in it?”

  He realized she was referring to the modifications they were making for Mariah in a simple routine.

  “Aye,” he said. “But Nathaniel, my former Tiro, is the stronger warrior. If you are looking for a modified training program, he is the one to speak to.”

  “Nathaniel?” she asked, remembering him. “He is…distant.”

  “He is not usually,” Desmond answered with a smirk. “The day you met him, perhaps.”

  “I…” She took a step forward and then faltered.

  “Desmond!” Mariah sensed her magic first, feeling it flicker. Her sightless eyes flashed, and Desmond rushed forward, catching Sienna before she fell.

  Her body was burning with heat, her limbs trembling. She clearly wasn't well, although she was doing well to hide it.

  He eased her to the ground, and she reached out for his hand, grasping it tightly.

  “AH!” he suddenly cried as she squeezed his hand. It hadn't been intentional, but she had lashed out for magic and strength. And without even thinking about it, his magic had flowed to her, offering her healing and strength to make up for hers.

  She looked so surprised by it that she stopped moving all together, this feeling completely foreign to her.

  Desmond had felt it before, though, with each of his three Tiros. To take strength that easily without even thinking about it was part of the bond between Maestro and Tiro. Their bonds were so strong that they could predict it before it even happened, their thoughts becoming one.

  She looked up at him with wide eyes, saying nothing. He tried to smile, cradling her gently.

  “Is that better?” he asked.

  She nodded, sitting up cautiously. She pulled away from him slightly, her long hair falling into her face. Mariah sat down beside them and touched Desmond's shoulder. He reached out for her hand to tell her without speaking that all was well.

  “Yes,” Sienna replied.

  “You are not well,” he scolded her. “You should have told someone.”

  “No,” she said picking up on the meaning clearly. “No one cares.”

  “Sienna,” he gave her a look. “Of course, they do.”

  “Too…frequent,” she answered, and his heart ached.

  “It doesn't matter,” he replied. “If you are unwell, you should be looked after.”

  “Training,” she said, and he smiled.

  “Is that all you care about?”

  “Yes,” she answered curtly. That much was clear, and he chuckled.

  “Sienna, we should go to the med bay,” Mariah said tentatively. “You shall not train today.”

  “Please,” she begged, but Mariah pushed herself up from Desmond's shoulder.

  “No,” she said. “A good witch does not enter battle if they are at a disadvantage,” she said. “You must always be your best self in order to help others.”

  The sentence went over Sienna's head, so she simply rose, stronger than before.

  “Training after?”

  “Maybe,” Desmond replied. “If you are better later.”

  “Promise?” she asked, and he smiled.

  “If you are better, then I will walk you through a session. And I always keep my promises.”

  She seemed content with this and walked with both of them, only pausing once. It saddened Desmond to see how comfortable she was in the med bay, and he assumed she was quite used to it. She stuck out her arm for blood work like the needle was an extension of her own limb. As Tara drew the curtain closed, Desmond leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. Mariah leaned into him and enjoyed the moment of privacy.

  “Did it bother you so?” she asked, and he looked down at her.

  “I don't think that's the right word,” he said. “She must have had a fever of 103, and she took strength from me as if I was the right medication.”

  Mariah jerked at that thought. “Desmond,” she said. “You can't be thinking what I think you are.”

  “What am I supposed to think when a Tiro exhibits a bond that has occurred three times in my life before?” he asked, not meaning to snap.

  “First of all,” Mariah said, trying to keep her voice low, “she is not properly trained for her age; she's at least a few years behind. In addition, her life expectancy is not going to reach the tests. And even if she does, the level of care she needs would damn her to the lowest level quests.”

  “And aren't we taught to have patience and to take paths that frighten us, ones that others wouldn't?” he asked.

  Mariah switc
hed tactics. “What about Nathaniel?” she asked.

  “What about him?” Desmond replied.

  “He may have passed the tests physically, but emotionally, he is not ready to separate from you. He is happy now, the two of you bouncing about the school, and he may even take a quest again by himself. But you and I both know he took the tests because he was aging out, not because he was ready. If he had his way, he'd still be with you until he turned at least thirty.”

  Desmond sighed. “He has to grow apart from me sometime, Mariah. Despite his age, Nathaniel is less than two years away from me. That's hard for any Tiro; you know that. The first few years are the worst.”

  “Are you prepared for the level of care she will need?” Mariah asked. “Can you handle all of that by yourself?”

  “I…” Desmond wanted to say yes and that he was invincible. But a good witch did not falsely take on responsibilities when they put others at a disservice. The truth was, he was past his prime, and she was young. “I don't know.”

  “And then there's us,” Mariah put in.

  “Us,” he said, keeping his voice low. “If what you say is true, training her will be a few years, nothing more. We have waited so long, Mariah. Can we not wait another few years? What difference does it make in the grand scheme of things? We are together here as we have always been. A few years in our lives is no different.”

  “Desmond.” She reached her hand out, touching him. “Do you truly feel drawn to this girl?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Please believe me.”

  She sighed. “I believe you,” she said. “But I'm not sure you are equipped to take on the challenges that she presents. And you are asking me to wait a few years while you figure that out.”

  He lowered his voice. “I would not do this if it meant losing you. But I know that it does not mean losing you, does it?”

  Their faces were inches apart. She wanted to scream; she wanted to cry; she wanted to tell him that yes, it meant losing her.

  But she knew how devoted Desmond was. If he felt a bond with this Tiro, she couldn't deny it.

  “No,” she said. “But I want you to think this through; figure out how you are going to handle it. The last thing I want is to get so close to our futures, and then have it taken away because of some accident or some carelessness.”

  “Mariah,” he tried to assure her, “It's not going to be like that.”

  “Why? Do you have a plan?”

  He considered everything that she said, his mind reeling. And then, all of a sudden, the answer hit him like a tidal wave.

  “I think I do,” he answered.

  “What is it?”

  “I'll tell you if it works out,” he said. They separated as Tara pulled aside the curtain.

  “She's fine,” Tara said. “She's just not used to such a busy day. An IV infusion, and she'll be all right.”

  Sienna looked oddly comfortable with a needle in her hand, watching the three of them. Desmond smiled, stepping forward.

  “Little one,” he said, pointing to the call button and then holding up his com-link, “I have to go for a bit. But if you need anything at all, please call me.”

  She seemed to understand the connection between the two objects and nodded, reaching out her hand to grab his. “Thank you,” she said, and he nodded.

  “Of course,” he replied. “I'm sure everything will be fine. I'll see you soon.”

  “Where are you going?” Mariah inquired, and his eyes sparkled.

  “You asked me to have a plan,” he said. “When is it that the bids for Tiros are due?”

  “Tomorrow,” she said. “You know that. After every showcase, you only have a few days, and then they are gone.”

  “Right, so I don't have that long,” Desmond said. “I'll see you for dinner, Mariah.”

  “Will you?” Mariah replied, clearly not happy. “This better be an amazing plan.”

  “It might be a terrible one,” Desmond answered. “But at least it's a plan.”

  Mariah sighed as she felt him leave the room. He usually had plans like this that either worked out or failed miserably. He always rushed off, not telling her anything. She was used to this, but for just once, she would have liked to be in on it. After all, this was about their future, their hopes, and their dreams. They had never been so close before, never had it within reach. If any of his plans ever worked out, she hoped this one did.

  Chapter 5

  “Why do they want to see me?” Nathaniel asked in confusion the next morning when Desmond came to his chambers. “I thought they weren't assigning quests today due to the Tiro bids.”

  “The Jurors do what they want, Nathaniel. You know that.”

  “I do know that,” he said as he got up. “But I can't think of what I've done wrong in the past four weeks.”

  “Why? What happened four weeks ago?” Desmond asked in confusion.

  Nathaniel shook his head. “Nothing. Or it turned out to be nothing,” he shrugged as he shut down his monitor.

  “Nathaniel?” Desmond raised an eyebrow.

  “Eliza and I had a business meeting on the neighboring planet Jade,” he started, and Desmond rolled his eyes.

  “I don't want to know in that case. And I don't want to know how you talked your way out of it. I've long since discovered that the less I know, the better.”

  “That's the worst part,” he said. “They didn't have any evidence. Just someone with a big mouth.”

  “And how many times do you think the Jurors are going to believe your stories when you keep getting caught with her?” Desmond asked.

  “At least twice more, I hope,” Nathaniel said nonchalantly, as they strolled toward the Jurors' chambers.

  He was surprised to see most of the Jurors in session. Temporary members like Desmond sat on the sidelines, and Nathaniel realized that it looked very much like a Tiro review.

  “What's going on?” he asked in confusion as the doors closed behind them.

  “Desmond,” said Thomas, the head of the witch Jurors. “Nathaniel. Thank you for your joining us.”

  “Sure?” Nathaniel asked, confused. He was usually easy going, willing to roll with any punches that were sent his way. But his heart beat a little harder as he wondered if he was in trouble.

  “The Jurors have received your application for the joint training of the Tiro witch, Sienna, and the reasons behind it.”

  “Wha…?” The words died in Nathaniel's throat as he turned to Desmond. To his horror, Desmond looked absolutely calm. He knew about this; he expected it.

  “Sienna is a very special child,” Thomas put in. “She has rare abilities and rare power, but also a rare disease.”

  “She will be difficult to manage,” Desmond put in. “I acknowledge that. The amount of power within her has rarely been seen, if ever.”

  “That is true,” Thomas replied. “Her magical ability is off the charts. But her health…”

  “To train Sienna, she will need a Maestro with experience,” Desmond put in. “A Maestro who has experience in different cases, one who is used to handling the special needs of others. Reynolds, my first, also had unprecedented power, and although his fate saddens me, he also required a lot of control. Christa lost her Maestro at seventeen, and I was able to take on her training, keeping in line with her late Maestro's wishes. Nathaniel, as you know, was older than most, and yet here he stands. I have the experience to train one like this.”

  “You have the experience,” Thomas acknowledged, “but you are too close to retirement, Desmond. Another year or two, and we would not allow you to take on a Tiro. The level of care Sienna would need and the level of energy required to take care of such a child with such strong power makes me worried that you are no longer capable.”

  “I may not be,” Desmond said, “but Nathaniel is. He is young, and he is the greatest warrior of his generation. Her strength, her energy – he can handle it. And if Nathaniel and I can successfully bring a Tiro with that much power and that much unc
ontrolled strength to the tests with such health issues, who knows what we can do with the other ones? We know of so many witches that are consumed by their power within their own bodies that if we could learn to harness that in order to save them, we could become stronger as an order.”

  Nathaniel remained silent beside Desmond, seething. He couldn't believe Desmond had brought him here and would dare suggest that he train this girl whom he had no interest in. He wanted a warrior; he wanted someone to keep up with his pace. The quests he wanted were full of adrenaline and excitement. He did not want this girl.

  “These arguments are strong,” Thomas said. “Please wait in the hallway while the Jurors decide.”

  “Thank you,” Desmond said as he bowed his head. Nathaniel turned on his heels, following him out of the room. He at least waited until the door was closed before he let loose.

  “Are you kidding me?” he asked. “No! No! I don't want this.”

  “Did you not hear Thomas?” Desmond asked. “The argument is sound. Even you must agree.”

  “Argh,” Nathaniel answered. “Of course, they are sound. They are always sound when they come from your mouth. But Desmond, I can't! I don't want her. There is no connection, no strength. If you want her as your last Tiro, I cannot stop you. But you can't expect–”