He couldn't imagine, fifteen years ago, doing such a thing, living such a life. It was a reminder that life changed in a moment, an instant, to the exact opposite of what it used to be.
“Maestro,” Sienna's face lit up and she threw herself upon him. He briefly put his arms around her and squeezed her gently. Beside them, he felt Prada growl in his mind. This was not going to be easy.
“How are you, little one?” he asked, his nickname for Sienna. She smiled, stepping back. She looked well, now that her magic was blocked. He knew she had kept up with the regime, daily medications to make sure that there was no trace of magic left in her body. Without magic, she could thrive at last.
“I'm well,” she said. “Busy today, I miscalculated when you were coming. Hello, Prada.”
She had sat with Nathaniel the first time they had seen Prada in a tournament, her strong power reminding both of them of Sienna's power when she was a child. Unlike Sienna, though, Prada would not lose her power. Prada was stronger every day, learning to turn her gifted power into a well-respected weapon.
Before they blocked her magic, Sienna could barely learn how to breathe without magic interfering and running out of control.
Prada cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing.
“The Queen is awaiting you,” Sienna said. “I can take you, if you want.”
“Of course,” Nathaniel said. “I wouldn't dare wander around Jeffro without saying hello to Her Highness.”
“This way,” Sienna said, indicating they should take a back passage way.
“Where's Devon?” Nathaniel asked and he saw her face flicker.
“He's just napping,” Sienna said. “It's been a long day.”
“Oh?” Nathaniel asked, and she shrugged.
“We'll see him later,” she said, closing the conversation. But Nathaniel had a feeling that something more was happening. This was not a good way to start a dangerous quest.
Chapter 3
“Witches of the High Order, Maestro Nathaniel and his Tiro,” came the announcement as they entered the throne room. Eliza was in full regalia on the throne. If they were alone, he might have embraced her, or kissed her beautiful pink lips. However now, he simply tugged on Prada's cloak, to indicate she should dip to her knees. It was very rare that they bowed to anyone, but Eliza was special. Her title alone meant that she ruled a whole system of planets, acquiring them as if they were new coats, it seemed. She was so powerful, and yet, when Nathaniel looked at her, he saw none of that. Prada was a Princess by birth, and she usually didn't bow to anyone. But Eliza was a Queen, one of the most powerful in the universe, and Prada dipped low reluctantly.
He saw the woman he had loved since he was barely a teenager. When he had first seen Eliza, as a young queen, just trying to figure out how to rule far sooner than she had anticipated. She may have been nervous, but she had always done it with grace and beauty, and he had loved her since the start.
Now, she quirked an eyebrow at him, accepting their bow. She didn't rise, and Nathaniel's eyes flickered to the empty throne beside her. He had sat there more than once, not in an official capacity, but everyone knew where their hearts lay.
“You present to me a new Tiro,” Eliza said to Nathaniel, knowing everything there was to know about Prada from afar. With Sienna, they had practically raised her together. With Prada, Nathaniel felt alone in so many ways. Keeping Prada apart from his old life had mostly been choice, to avoid so many things that had gone wrong last time. “I remember the last time you came strolling in here with a Tiro.”
She gave a small smile to Sienna, who was standing off to the side. Sienna smiled back, although hers smile tight.
“This is Prada,” Nathaniel said. “And she would be pleased to serve you , as the one before her has.”
Eliza rose, waving her hand. It was the signal for the throne room to empty. Her servants and those in attendance immediately scattered. Nathaniel was always impressed with how fast she could make people leave the room.
Once the room was mostly clear, Eliza walked down the few steps. She met Nathaniel's eyes , communicating with only a look whether she should embrace him the way they both wanted to. But he straightened up a bit more, taking a step closer to Prada, to indicate that she shouldn't, not yet. So instead, Eliza turned a kind smile toward Prada.
“It is nice to meet you, at long last.”
What does she expect?
Prada's voice rang in Nathaniel's head, and he was about to answer her when something caught the corner of his eye. Sienna's head turned toward Prada and Nathaniel, and her eyes gleamed.
He knew that look, there was no way she could hide it.
She had heard their thoughts.
It was completely rare that a witch could hear the bond of another. Sienna had been a very powerful witch, and she was the only one who could listen it at ease to almost anything she wanted. The fact that he was her former Maestro made a hearing slightly more likely.
However, there was no way she should be able to hear anything with her magic blocked.
She looked away immediately, but he had already seen it.
Maestro! Prada practically screamed in his mind, and he turned back to her.
“Sorry! I…”
Sienna used the break in the conversation to dip low.
“I'll take my leave, your highness,” she said, before Nathaniel could call her out. She scurried from the room, leaving Eliza confused.
“What…?” Eliza asked, and Nathaniel sighed.
“There's a lot to discuss,” he said. “Between all of us, I imagine.”
“There is,” Eliza said, but she tried to smile. “What would you like first? Dinner, perhaps?”
Prada shifted at that, and Nathaniel managed a smile.
“Yes. It's a bit easier to feed Prada than Sienna.”
“You've never had a true Jeffro feast,” Eliza said to Prada. She was trying to be kind, but Nathaniel could see a flash in her eyes.
He grabbed her wrist, warning her.
“Prada, you are a guest,” he said, through his teeth. “And you will behave as such.”
“Do you want to go to her?” Eliza asked, indicating Sienna's rapid exit. “I would like to get to know you, Prada, for I have known your Maestro for quite a while.”
“Uh…” Nathaniel glanced at his Tiro. He would like to find out what was going on, but he knew there was no chance, given the way Prada had been behaving. The last thing he wanted was her to lose control and destroy the Jeffro palace, only recently rebuilt. In addition, like Sienna's early days, Prada had no way to communicate with Eliza, and he had seen what damage that would do.
“No, it's all right,” he said. “Food sounds lovely. Come on, Prada, it will taste better than anything we've had on the plane. A moment of normalcy, and then we can work, I promise.”
We are here for the quest, Prada said back to him, although she did follow him on the way out of the throne room. Nothing more.
Stop, he warned her, his mind half-distracted. Normally, he'd be thrilled to have dinner with Eliza. But despite his attempts at normal conversation, he couldn't seem to connect with her over the noise of Prada's thoughts. Eliza seemed to understand this, and understand that she was secondary to their reason for being here. Nathaniel wanted to promise that he would see her that night, but he wasn't sure he would. He had so many questions for his former Tiro, and he wasn't sure where they would lead.
“Why her?” Prada asked him, as they walked down the hall to find Sienna's rooms. As a Baroness, she was afforded some grand rooms, with outer chambers, and enough space for almost an entire army to take up residence.
“Why Eliza?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“Yes,” she said. “How did you know?”
It was an oddly tender moment.
“You just…know,” he replied. “You know your path, and once you know it...you can't deviate it from it. Even if you want to.”
“Do you want to?”
“Prada�
��” he said, unsure of whether she was able to handle such a mature view. “You know as well as I do that my relationship with Eliza is not exactly smiled upon by the Order. My Maestro was cast out for such behavior It's not a light matter.”
“I know,” she replied. “But if you know your path, you must follow it. Forcing someone off their path does not bode well.”
“I—” It was a surprisingly mature answer, and he wasn't prepared for it. She said no more, as he knocked on Sienna's grand door.
“Hi,” she pulled the door open, almost as if waiting for them. He raised an eyebrow
“How did you know we were here?”
“I was just about to leave, actually,” she said. “But you want to talk?”
“I do,” Nathaniel answered. “And you better sit down.”
“Oh?” she replied, leading them into her inner chambers. “Why? Have you come to ask me to rejoin the order?
Nathaniel winced, glancing to Prada. Sienna' s jaw dropped.
“What?”
“Not quite,” Nathaniel answered. “But we do need your help.”
Sienna took the request fairly well, given the surprising turn of events. She looked calm, which Nathaniel was proud of her for. She was once so nervous by every moment. Now, she took his news with grace, nodding.
“Of course,” she said. “I'm probably one of the only people who could do it. It'd be a challenge.”
“You are happy to work with them, then?”
“I am,” she answered. “We chose to leave them, remember? I harbor only good feelings, and memories. There's no harshness, no anger.”
“As we taught you,” he said proudly. “And speaking of we, do you know where Desmond is?”
“Do they want him, too?” she asked in surprise
“Apparently, Desmond spent two years on Dramoon, before either of us,” Nathaniel said. “And with it being so remote, there are very few experts in the field.”
“Huh,” she answered. “I didn't know that.”
“I don't think many people did,” Nathaniel said. “He kept it from all of us. I can only guess what he saw there, to never speak of it again.”
“But I never saw it in his mind...” Sienna started and Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.
“Were you supposed to be looking?”
“No.” She flushed, like she was still a school child, and then looked to Prada. “Does he yell at you like that, too?”
Prada tensed, and Nathaniel half hoped that she would answer her, just out of spite. But she said nothing, instead looking to her Maestro for help.
“It's okay,” Nathaniel tried to assure her. “Sienna understands where you are coming from.”
No, Prada rose defiantly, her face turning red. She does not.
“You can go,” Nathaniel didn't want to start a fight with her here and now. “You're tired, get some rest.”
His defiant Tiro didn't need telling twice. She stormed out of the room, leaving Nathaniel and Sienna alone in the echoing walls.
“Was I that difficult?” she asked him.
“You were…a different challenge,” he said. “But not one I regret.”
“Do you regret it with her?”
“I don't,” he said, sighing. “It's just as you said, difficult. And this quest is going to be above all that we've ever had. Do you know where Desmond is?”
“I do,” she said. “And it should be easy to get into contact with him. He's not too far away.”
“I'm not surprised he kept a close eye on you,” Nathaniel said. “Do you ask him about how to manage your magic?”
She grew pale at that. “What are you talking about? I'm blocked, I can't—”
“Sienna, it is no surprise to me that I was the stricter of the two of us,” he said. “And that I would not be the one you came to when you wanted to walk a gray line of using magic that you know might kill you. You've gotten good at hiding it, though, I couldn't detect it when we first met.”
“How did you know?” she asked quietly.
“You can hear my bond with Prada,” he said. “Which means you have found a way to use it at full strength.”
“Not all the time,” she said softly. “Just when Devon needs it.”
He softened. “Is he not well?”
“He'll die without my magic, Nathaniel,” she cried.
“And you'll die with it, little one,” he answered.
“We have left the Order and he is without a cure. Tell me, what option do I have?” she asked. “What if it was Eliza?”
“I would find a way,” he admitted. “But there has to be a way here, without you killing yourself.”
“There's never been a witch more powerful than me,” she said. “No one could heal like I did. No one can even dream of resurrection”
He paused.
“Prada could,” he said. “If her power doesn't destroy her we may be able to figure out a way to save both of you. However, if Dramoon declares war on all of us, there's no point in anyone being saved.”
“Of course, I will help,” Sienna said. “I just I need Devon to be all right.”
“I understand love, Sienna,” he said. “We will do what we can.”
Chapter 4
“Can you get away tonight?” Eliza asked Nathaniel quietly, that night as the official dinner feast ended. He hadn't eaten much, waiting for Sienna to tell him she'd made contact with the secretive Desmond. It wasn't that he was on bad terms with Desmond. His former Maestro checked in frequently. But he also enjoyed a quiet life far away from his old life.
“Yes,” Nathaniel said. “Prada's reasonably independent. But she isn't the most stable with her magic.”
“We'll be close by,” Eliza wiggled her eyebrows. “And awake.”
“Mm,” he said, reaching for a drink. “If I can keep my eyes open. We're not as young as we once were.”
Eliza ducked her head at that. “Speak for yourself,” she said. “Have you been to see Devon yet?”
“No?” Nathaniel asked. “Sienna keeps putting it off. I know he's been sick but…”
Eliza's eyes widened.
“Is that what she told you?”
Nathaniel felt himself grow pale.
“What is the truth?”
Eliza looked from side to side and then lowered her voice even more.
“Devon hasn't been conscious in nearly 6 months,” she said. “He slipped into a coma and we cannot bring him back. Truthfully, we...shouldn't be bringing him back, he's progressed far father than we can manage in this day and age. But she won't let him go.”
“Oh, Creator.” Nathaniel put a hand to his mouth. “That's why her magic is active.”
“Her magic is active?” Eliza asked, in shock. “But…”
“She's keeping it a secret,” Nathaniel replied. “She admitted to trying to heal him, but I didn't realize. She didn't tell me until I caught her. Creator.”
“I'm sorry,” Eliza apologized. “I should have been watching her closer. I thought you knew, and it wasn't my place to tell you. I—”
“It's not your fault,” Nathaniel answered. “But all of this is starting to make sense, at last. I thought he was all right, or at least getting along. Has she been sick?”
Eliza thought for a moment. “Not…maybe. If she's been keeping it a secret, she's very good at it. I've noticed a few things, but she's been working hard, and away. Ah.” She shook her head. “I'm sorry. I feel like I failed you on that front.”
“My love, you haven't,” he said, knowing exactly what she was feeling. Eliza felt like she had taken custody of them, all those years ago. “But I will speak to her.”
“Speak of the devil,” Eliza said, as Sienna entered the feast hall quietly. A few bowed to the new baroness, but most continued eating, as she approached, crouching down between Nathaniel and Eliza.
“He'll be here in an hour or so,” Sienna said. “He didn't react much when I told him about Dramoon, but…he's coming.”
“He was close then,” N
athaniel said and Sienna smiled.
“He was just on Teranon.”
“Teranon?” Nathaniel raised an eyebrow, a planet half an hour away. “Really?”
“He and Mariah were on vacation at the beach,” Sienna said. “Do you want to see him right away?”
“There's something I'd rather see first, little one,” he said. “Eliza has told me just where Devon is.”
Sienna actually took a step back and her eyes clouded.
“He's all right,” she said, and Nathaniel reached a hand out to touch her arm. Prada didn't miss the connection—the one she didn't have with her Maestro.
“He's not all right,” he said. “Do you want to take me to him?”
“No,” she said, although she had already decided that she would take him. Nathaniel rose, and Prada quickly joined his side.
They followed Sienna down long hallways , and into the Jeffro medical bay.
In the back, in a private room, lay a shadow of what Sienna's love used to be.
He was so thin he was practically skeletal, machines hooked up to every available space. A quick scan of the body told Nathaniel that Devon was not alive on his own. There were machines breathing for him, pumping his heart, flowing his blood through his veins
Medical science had come so far, done so much. But they were not immortal, not yet, and perhaps not ever.
“He can hear you,” Sienna said, sitting quietly on the bed beside him and holding his hand. She squeezed, and brushed some hair away from her lover's face. “If you want to say hello.”
Nathaniel paused, unsure of what to say.
Is he dead? Prada asked him, her face expressionless.
“No!” Sienna snapped, turning around. Prada looked positively terrified at that reaction, turning to her Maestro in shock. As far as Nathaniel was aware, there was no one outside of him that Prada had ever communicated with words since the destruction of her planet. Her trauma kicked in, the fear of speaking to anyone else throttled by the fact that she had. She went pale, her hands suddenly clenching at her side.
He knew that she couldn't control it. He knew she was powerless when her brain went into the vacuum of terror.
“Prada,” he said. “Prada, it's all right. It's all right. I need you to calm down.”
The Vampire Touch 1: The Forsaken Page 68