“Why is she doing that?” Nathaniel asked, putting his hand on her small back. “Is it that we are amongst nature? Could her system be that reactive?”
“I don't know,” Desmond admitted. “There has to be a pattern, but we haven't seen it. It wouldn't take a great amount of magic to ping like she just did, even if she's better at it than we are.”
Nathaniel gave a brief smile, but he was clearly thinking about the pattern between her illness and the rest of the world. What was happening, and how could they make it better? She had such a bright future ahead of her, if they could just figure out how to get her there.
Eventually, Sienna recovered, and the color returned to her cheeks. She straightened up and indicated that they should continue.
Inside, the tunnel was pitch black. Desmond whisked his hands to create a ball of light, ready to extinguish it at any moment. From the light, they could see that the tunnel ahead was full of twists and turns.
There was old, rusted equipment piled everywhere, and old lights on the wall. He looked around as they walked slowly, careful of their footing. No one said a word, listening for sounds as they walked in a straight line.
Nathaniel stopped them suddenly, bending down to the ground. For one moment, Desmond was worried he was going to throw up again. It certainly had been a day of expelling bodily fluids, which, he thought with a sigh, was not something they warned you about when taking on a Tiro.
But it was a fresh footprint that Nathaniel had found. The edges around it were still wet with recent mud, and there was a trail of them leading off to the left path of the tunnel.
‘Two,’ Sienna flashed, finding a second set of footprints. Desmond noted that the set was slightly smaller.
“Three,” Nathaniel whispered, as he realized that some of the footprints were different. There were three sets, two side-by-side, and one slightly ahead.
Desmond reached out, touching one of them. He was trying to see if there was a life force still attached to them, trying to get an image in his mind. But he couldn't feel anything, meaning they were slightly too far behind.
“Ping,” he told Nathaniel, and Nathaniel took a deep breath, focusing to make his magic invisible. He sent it forward to the tunnel. It returned after a moment, and his eyes widened.
“There's something that feels like Eliza's,” he said. “But not quite. It's that way, though.”
“Let's go, then,” Desmond straightened up. He only got a few steps forward before he remembered that he wasn't alone. Turning to his side, he put his hand on Sienna's shoulder.
‘Behind me,’ he said. ‘In front of Nathaniel.’
‘But…’ she started. ‘I'm strong.’
“Yes, little one, you are very strong,” he said. “But you aren't trained, not yet. I am not treating you differently than any other Tiro of your age. Nathaniel and I will do battle if we have to. You defend yourself.”
Whether or not she understood his words didn't matter; she understood the meaning. She slunk between the two of them, and they continued to walk.
It was around the next bend, that they heard a noise. They stopped moving at once and heard footsteps slowly coming toward them.
Desmond tensed and indicated they should press up against the wall as he held his breath.
The footsteps came closer, and he stored magic in his fingertips. He had no idea what they were facing, and it was the worst kind of threat.
He trusted Nathaniel, beside him, to act as an extension of himself. It had taken a long time to get Nathaniel to behave that way, but now, he didn't even have to think. He would move left, and Nathaniel would cover his left.
The footsteps were about to round the corner when he felt a magical ping. They were trying to recognize him, and he resisted it. But it meant that there was a witch around the corner, and that baffled him.
He jumped forward, his hands tense. Nathaniel led the way, ready to fire.
Sybil and Kierry came into view in the exact same position.
Nathaniel dropped his hands right away, his eyes wide in shock.
“What are you doing here?” he hissed. Sybil raised an eyebrow.
“I'm on a quest. What are you doing here?”
“I'm…oh, Creator.” Nathaniel shook his head as he embraced his friend. “Everyone thinks you're dead.”
“Kierry,” Desmond said, greeting Sybil's young Tiro. She was only a few years older than Sienna, but she was clearly stronger, and ready for fighting. Kierry raised her chin, showing off a bruised face. “Do you need medical attention?”
“No,” Kierry replied. “I am fine.”
“Why didn't you call in?” Nathaniel asked Sybil, grateful that she alive at all.
“Because when tracking a hitman, who is used to tracking people, one doesn't give their position away,” Sybil replied. “I thought the Jurors would have more faith in me.”
“They did,” Nathaniel said. “But it's been too long. Are you even supposed to be here?”
“Considering the hitman is the first cousin of the Queen of Jeffro,” Sybil said. “They should have expected it. Sorry. I wanted to tell you, but you know I couldn't.”
“That must be the life force I'm feeling,” Nathaniel said. “Her cousin would feel similar. I knew they were trying to kill her; it was the best theory.”
“I've been tracking him for days,” Sybil said. “But they are a whole network, and it's not easy. They keep changing places and swapping out their lead man.”
“Do they have Eliza?” Nathaniel asked frantically.
“The queen is missing?” Sybil asked, and then realized what had happened. “Probably. A few days ago, we detected that they added another person to their party. There's only one down here, but he's the ringleader. If we get him, we will get the rest.”
“The Jurors needs to understand what classified quests might relate to each other,” Desmond shook his head. “This is typical.”
“I'm not surprised,” Sybil gave him a quirky grin. “But we can stick it to them when we get back.”
“Mariah's sitting on the throne right now,” Desmond put in. “So, the first thing you'll do is see her. And then we can stick it to the Jurors.”
“Sorry, Sybil. I love you,” Nathaniel said, “but why are we just standing here?”
“The tunnels are a dead end,” Sybil said. “We turned back when we felt you coming in, to take care of the threat. But the rat is at the end. He's not going anywhere.”
“You're sure it's a dead end?” Nathaniel asked, and Sybil raised an eyebrow.
“How little faith you have in me,” she answered. “Are you all in fighting form?”
“Yes,” Desmond answered. “You have a strategy?”
“Not with this many of us,” Sybil gave him a wide grin. “If it was just Kierry and me, we might have to fight. But with this many of us, my job becomes a lot easier. Kierry, on point?”
“Yes,” Kierry said, moving ahead of the group. Nathaniel exchanged a glance with Desmond as the young Tiro lead the way. They didn't need to look at Sienna to see the differences between the two girls. Their Tiro was probably never going to be able to lead them like that, and they had to come to terms with it.
“It's about half a mile,” Sybil said as they walked. “I can feel him at the end. He's armed with two guns at least.”
“No problem,” Nathaniel answered. “Deflecting actual bullets is my favorite bit. The look on their faces…”
“And we will be martyrs,” Sienna suddenly blurted out. Everyone turned to her, startled.
“Heroes,” Desmond corrected her. “She means heroes. Sienna, we've talked about this.”
“Let us hope she means heroes,” Sybil answered. “Unless she somehow knows something we don't.”
“Uh...” Nathaniel answered, realizing that he had never quite thought of the full extent of her powers. Sienna could do things that they couldn't, and they came easy to her. What if her powers were beyond the extent of what they could imagine? Seeing the futur
e was a very rare skill, and it usually came in very blurred flashes to the most powerful and practiced witches. “Probably not.”
“You always were good at reassuring people,” Sybil gave him a look as they rounded the last bend.
And there, before them, Nathaniel recognized Ladd, Eliza's oldest cousin, and technically the current heir to the throne. Ladd, who Eliza had assured him was dead.
Chapter 17
“Hi,” Sybil said casually. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
She was ready to bind him with magic and take him away. Any sane man would have simply surrendered, given that he was severly outnumbered. But Ladd didn't seem to understand that. He knew why they were following him, and he was shocked to see that there were five of them. His reaction was to whip out his weapon and pull the trigger.
“Ah!” Nathaniel was more offended about being caught off guard than anything. He was fast enough to put up a magical force field, but just barely. They were surrounded by a white ball of magic as he held up his hands, and the bullets bounced off it. It was more effort to put a protective spell over them than deflect each of the bullets individually. He couldn't keep it up indefinitely, nor could he fight with it up.
“Kierry, Sienna,” Sybil snapped. “Take over the spell from Nathaniel.”
No one objected to the plan. Kierry grabbed Sienna by the wrist, and they pooled their magic.
When it came to comparing Tiros again, it was clear that Kierry was much less powerful than Sienna. Sienna's side of the magical shield was much stronger than even Nathaniel's. It was solid instead of transparent, and she held it with comfort.
Sybil pushed her hands forward, and a magical blast hit Ladd square in his chest. Nathaniel twisted his wrists to create a rope. The weapon fell to the ground, and Ladd grunted as he fell to his knees.
“Ha,” Nathaniel said, making sure his knots were tight. “Too easy.”
“We did outnumber him, Nathaniel,” Desmond pointed out, reminding him that too much confidence was never good for witches. Nathaniel yanked at the magical strings and shrugged.
“We're good.”
“You can let go,” Desmond put a hand on Sienna's shoulder, and she dropped the spell. She stumbled against him, and he kept his steady hand on her just in case. “You don't have to exert yourself so much, little one. You could have used half that magic, and it would have been fine.”
‘How?’
“I'll teach you,” he assured her as Nathaniel rushed forward.
“Where is Eliza?” he asked Ladd. It was clear that he was going to ask once with a decent attitude. After that, he was prepared to break bones. Sybil took a rope from her pack so that Nathaniel could drop his spell, tying the man up. He made no effort to be careful, and he cried out.
“AH!”
“I said, where is Eliza?” Nathaniel repeated. Ladd looked up at him defiantly. “How are you even alive? She told me she killed you.”
Ladd cackled, and cackled. It was an eerie sound, echoing through the tunnels. Nathaniel promptly kicked him in the stomach, and he fell face forward.
“Where is Eliza?”
“Eliza is dead by now!” he said, in his accented Basic. “If you harm me, you will be harming a king and answering to the Intergalactic Court.”
“No!” Nathaniel's teeth bared. He didn't believe him – didn't want to. But his stomach sank, and his heartbeat rose. If there was even the smallest chance that this man had hurt her, he would snap his neck here and now, rules be damned. “Tell me, or I will kill you here and now, and no one will even visit your grave.”
“Eliza tried to have me killed,” Ladd replied at last. “But without an heir to the throne, she knew she couldn't do that. She'd damn everything. She banished me instead of letting me stand beside her. The stupid–”
Nathaniel landed a kick square in his face; breaking his nose. Blood flowed from it, and Ladd groaned.
“Nathaniel!” Desmond said, but Nathaniel didn't care.
“Sienna, come here,” he said, holding out his hand.
Sienna stayed by Desmond's side, unsure.
“Sienna, come here,” Nathaniel repeated.
“No,” Desmond said. “You will not use her when anger is fueling your magic.”
“I will train my Tiro how I choose,” Nathaniel snapped, but Desmond kept a tight grip on her.
“Not when anger darkens your judgment,” he said. “Not when violence is your path.”
Nathaniel glared at him, and Sybil tensed. It was a stand-off of two different styles and two different people. It was impossible to tell when Desmond felt like breaking the rules was all right, and when it wasn't, his style was so different. She knew Nathaniel, and they had their differences during their training. Nathaniel never liked what a rebel his Maestro was, but he clearly had picked up some lessons.
To Sybil's surprise, though, Nathaniel's shoulders dropped. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. The tension left his body, and his chest opened as his face relaxed.
When he was breathing clearly, he opened his eyes.
“Sienna,” he said, in a much calmer tone. She looked up to Desmond, and he nodded.
Cautiously, Sienna took a step forward, and then another, taking Nathaniel's hand. He established their bond, pushing thoughts into her head.
‘Find where Eliza is.’
She nodded, turning to the man. She didn't say a word, touching his shoulder.
It was a long moment as her eyes tried to make sense of the images that he was trying to hide. She saw many things in his brain, and she projected them to Nathaniel. Finally, she opened her eyes.
‘The first farm.’
“What?” Nathaniel asked in shock. “Are you sure?”
She projected him an image of the first farm straight from Ladd's thoughts. Nathaniel saw Eliza then, bound and gagged. They led her through the farm house and into the basement, while she struggled.
He searched the image, looking for a clue as to what day it was.
Finally, his mind's eye settled on the calendar on the wall and the clock.
It had been just four hours after they left. They had been right. They had been right all along.
“It is,” he turned to Desmond. “It's the first farm. She's in the basement.”
“It'll take hours to get back there,” Desmond said, calculating what was going to be the best way. “Sybil, you should take this man to the capital. You need to check in, and he needs to be brought to justice.”
“Eliza spared your life,” Sybil said to him. “And then you kidnap her?”
“She's dead,” Ladd said with certainty. “I am the king. You'll see.”
Nathaniel drew his hand back, ready to snap his neck. It was only Sienna's squeak of protest that stopped him from doing the deed just then.
“No!” Sienna cried, and he froze, his hand shaking. Her eyes were wide and pleading, and it was only her innocence that made him draw back.
“No,” he said, after a few moments. “Not today. Justice will be done, but not by us.”
“Come on,” Sybil grabbed Ladd, pulling him up. “And just so you know, those ropes can be much tighter. Kierry is practicing her noose techniques, and I'm sure you can help her.”
“Sybil…” Desmond said, and then stopped himself. “Nothing. You are a Maestro now that is your choice.”
“You taught me that!” she cried with a grin. “You said that line when we were on Janos!”
“Oh,” Desmond remembered that quest, but not that line. He was reminded just how much the Tiros absorbed, even when they didn't mean to. “I see.”
“Come on.” Sybil pushed Ladd forward, putting him in between them. “Let's go.”
The walk back out of the tunnels was solemn. Nathaniel's heart was beating out of his chest, and he wanted to bolt.
She wasn't dead; she couldn't be.
But it made complete sense. He even understood why Ladd would have been spared. There was no heir.
It wasn't un
til they were in the ship, with Desmond at the wheel that Nathaniel spoke up. “This is my fault,” he said.
“Nathaniel,” Desmond said. “We've been over this. You didn't know.”
“No, not that moment,” Nathaniel replied. “All of this.”
“How is that?” Desmond asked, patiently.
“If Eliza had married and had a child or two, Ladd would not have to be the heir,” Nathaniel answered. “She would not have had to leave him alive, and she would not be kidnapped now. But she hasn't, and it's because I love her.” He clenched his fists, trying not to punch the dashboard. His head was pounding, both with the effects of the night and the unshed tears. “This is my fault,” he repeated. “This is all my fault for loving her.”
Desmond sighed and powered down the engine for a moment as he searched for the right words. There was no training for these moments – no manuals. There was no other Maestros he could turn to for advice. He had to rely on himself – not his magic and not history – and he knew he only had one shot at telling Nathaniel the right words.
“It takes two to love,” he said at last. “If you believe it is your fault, it is as much Eliza's. But,” he said, as Nathaniel shot him a look, “I have known Eliza as long as you have. And my impression of her is that if she wanted to marry and have an heir; if she thought that was the best choice for her country and her throne, she would have done it already, you be damned.”
Nathaniel's face reacted in shock.
“What?”
“Eliza's rule is solidified because she trusts herself before anyone else,” Desmond said. “And you can never repeat this, but your situation is perhaps the best for her. She has your support, your heart...but you will never rival her throne; you will never challenge her rule, nor will you be at her side all the time. That is what she wants, Nathaniel, and it would be the same whether or not you were in the picture.”
Nathaniel stayed quiet for a moment, considering these things. Desmond held his breath, hoping that he hadn't made a mistake.
He was vividly aware of Sienna's presence in the backseat as well. These were the lessons she was learning on her first quest – the lessons that would stay with her.
He hoped that she would live a simple, uncomplicated life and follow the rules as they were written, if only for her own sake. He hoped that there would never be anyone who won her heart or made her eyes shine. He hoped that the magic and the support of her Maestros would be enough. But somehow, he had a feeling that one day it wouldn't be.
The Dragon's Gold (Exiled Dragons Book 12) Page 23