Dragon of Central Perk (Exiled Dragons Book 11)

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Dragon of Central Perk (Exiled Dragons Book 11) Page 61

by Sarah J. Stone


  Desmond was right, although he would never say it to her. She would never be a witch.

  Chapter 17

  “I never intended to have her pull a stunt like that,” Desmond said, near dawn, as they went to meet with Eliza. Neither of them had gotten any sleep since Sienna had nearly blown up the ship, eyes red tinged and moves slightly clumsy. “I would never suggest she try something so dangerous, you know that.”

  “I know,” Nathaniel said, taking no offence. He felt incredibly odd that Desmond was apologizing to him for the treatment of his Tiro. They shared opinions and choices up until twenty-four hours ago. Now, Nathaniel was solely in charge and it was odd. “It's been an emotional bit. She wasn't thinking, and if it were any other circumstances, I would reprimand her. But now is not the time.”

  “Your attention is divided,” Desmond said. “Between her treatment and this quest.”

  “Eliza's safety will not be in danger,” Nathaniel replied, determined but Desmond gave him a look.

  “You cannot take her out on a hostile mission, not when she's at risk at any moment. And I know you will not leave her here alone.”

  “I'll figure it out,” Nathaniel answered, as they approached the board room, where Eliza was supposed to meet them.

  “You have figured it out,” Desmond said. “You just don't want to admit it yet.”

  Nathaniel said nothing, as they entered the board room. Eliza was sitting at the table. Her face was set, and Nathaniel knew that she had heard what happened the night before. She would never judge him for the choices he was making, but she would stand her ground when it came to her people. Her first and foremost responsibility was Jeffro, no matter what else was at stake.

  “Can you do this?” Eliza asked, with no nonsense about her.

  Nathaniel's mind flashed to his Tiro, hooked up to an IV and barely conscious as the magic she was allergic to flooded her veins He was the only one who knew how to work with her if something went wrong and that could be a matter of life or death.

  “I—”

  “Nathaniel,” Eliza said, firmly. “There is no time for me to call in another team. There is no time for me to reschedule, to try and negotiate for another second. If they launch those weapons, my planet will no longer exist.”

  “Leave her here,” Desmond said, to Nathaniel.

  “And come back to find the gene takes over at last?” Nathaniel turned to Desmond. “We took an oath, we swore...”

  “We swore to serve Nature, the magic and the galaxy,” Desmond said. “The Queen of Jeffro needs your support, thousands of lives are at stake.”

  “I know,” Nathaniel turned to Eliza. “Don't think I don't know. I just don't know what to do.”

  “I need you,” Eliza said. “You have to decide whether Sienna's life-force needs you more.”

  “Witches save hundreds of thousands of lives in their career, whole planets over and over again,” Nathaniel wavered “Our training is what determines whether or not we can do that.”

  “Nathaniel, I'm not asking you to leave her forever,” Eliza said. “But I am asking you to do it now or step down from this quest.”

  “This is the life of an entire planet,” Desmond said in his ear. “You cannot walk away from this.”

  “I know!” Nathaniel cried. “I know. I'll leave her here, and beg Nature that this is not her time. I'll do it.”

  But his voice wavered and his hands shook.

  It was not the first time she had not gone on a quest. That was common. But when there was two of them, it was easier. They didn't take dangerous quests like this. They didn't risk everyone's lives against her own.

  Nathaniel remembered the days when he and Desmond would head first into these quests without even blinking. They were warriors once, but the past ten years, they had been caretakers, exploring the emotional challenges of training. They weren't saving lives. They weren't the first line of defense

  “Good,” Eliza said. She wanted to hug him, to comfort him, but now was not the time. She needed to be a Queen, not his lover. It broke her heart, but she couldn't waste a second. “We leave in twenty minutes.”

  She left them and Nathaniel's head dropped, his eyes squeezed shut. Desmond put a hand on his shoulder, but said nothing for a long moment.

  “Focus,” he said. “Trust Nature. Trust magic.”

  “I find it hard.” Nathaniel raised his head, staring at the wall. “To trust magic right now.”

  “That is when you need to trust the most,” Desmond said. Nathaniel wiped his face, taking a deep breath and turning his head.

  “What about the potential witch?”

  “She'll stay here,” Desmond said. “Even if she was properly trained, she's too young for such a situation.”

  “Right,” Nathaniel said, trying to smile. “Just you and I again.”

  “What memories,” Desmond answered. “Go, you have much to prepare.”

  “Mm,” Nathaniel replied. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to hate Desmond, but his training was too good for that. He understood exactly why Desmond had done this, and that scared him.

  His hands were shaking as he went back to the med bay, where they had pulled every trick in the bunk to keep Sienna's organs functioning normally. They were blocking her magic again, and he felt empty as he walked in, the brief moment of the bond was gone.

  “Hi,” she said, surprising him by sitting up a bit.

  “Hello, little one,” he said, glancing at the machines. Her heart rate was still off the charts, and there was enough anti-histamines in her to knock out a horse, but she was fighting it. “You should be resting it.”

  “My tablet,” she pointed to the bed side table. “It rang but then disconnected.”

  “Oh?” he asked, going to turn it on. His eyebrows raised as he saw who had called. “You missed a call from Devon.”

  She yawned. “His signal is bad, he'll call back.”

  “How do you know his signal is bad?” Nathaniel asked. “Where is he?”

  “Dunno, he didn't tell me,” she said, watching him. “I'm sorry.”

  “It's not time to talk about it,” he said. “Our quest is ahead.”

  She said nothing, watching him, and waiting for a verdict.

  “You're going to stay here, Sienna,” Nathaniel said, trying to sound like Desmond when he delivered a tough verdict. How did Desmond do this with such confidence, and a calm attitude? “I'm going to go.”

  “NO!” she pulled upwards, her eyes wide in a panic. She reached for his arm, but he kept his distance. They had brought her up so attached, so dependent that it was too late to reprogram her for independence. “I need you.”

  “I know you do,” he said. “But I need to go with Eliza.”

  “She is not your Tiro,” Sienna shot at him. “You cannot separate from me.”

  “I have to weigh the lives of her entire planet, of her people, of your people,” he said. “You will be all right, Sienna.”

  “You don't know that,” she said, tears coming to her eyes. He looked away so that he wouldn't echo her emotions.

  “No, I don't,” he said. “But I have to go.”

  “What am I supposed to learn by you going?” she begged.

  “Independence.” There was no way to say it without being harsh, although he didn't mean it that way. “I'm sorry, little one. I have to go.”

  He turned before she could say another word, fighting every instinct to stay, to comfort her. His fists trembled as he walked back through the door.

  Sienna pulled her knees up to her face, her shoulders shaking. She was so afraid, so broken. How was she supposed to be a witch when literally every factor was working against her?

  She grabbed for her tablet, as her energy drained, and sank against the pillows. She called Devon instantly, hoping that his signal was good enough to talk for a while.

  It only took Devon a moment on video to know something was very wrong. Her emotion replay broke his heart as she got half the words out, sobbing
.

  “Oh, my love,” he said. “I'm so sorry.”

  “What if I die, Devon?” she asked. “What if this is it?”

  “You won't,” he said. “And certainly not alone. How long will he be gone?”

  “Days, if it's what I think,” she whispered. “Or forever, if it goes wrong.”

  “If I leave now, I can be with you in twelve hours,” Devon said. “I think.”

  Her heart rose.

  “You're that close? You would do that?”

  “Yes,” he said. “In a heartbeat, if you want me beside you.”

  “I've never wanted you beside me more,” she replied. “But I…ow.” She winced. “This is getting worse.”

  “I need you to hang on,” he said, alarmed at her paling pallor. “Promise me?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I promise.”

  “Good,” he said. “Then we'll steal a few days. Just remember that I love you. And I'll never leave you.”

  That seemed to set her with a fresh set of tears. “That's what everyone has been saying,” she said. “I want to believe you but…”

  “Believe me. Trust me,” he said. “I found a life, Sienna, when I thought my world was falling apart. I can show you how to do it, too, if you want.”

  “I don't know what I want,” she said. “I just don't want to be alone. This is when I need my Maestro the most. I don't know what to do, or where to go.”

  “Don't go anywhere,” Devon said. “Just stay there and wait for me.”

  “All right.” It was all she could manage anyways, shutting down the video and closing her eyes.

  She just wanted to be a witch, to live that life. She wanted to serve the magic, but it appeared magic did not want to serve her.

  It was only Devon's voice, echoing in her head, that kept her grounded. For the first time, it wasn't the comfort of her Maestro's strength, nor magic, nor training that made her want to fight. It was waiting for Devon's touch, his hand, his smile, that brought her energy up and made her chest a little lighter.

  She could still feel the magic in her veins, but she knew it would probably be the last time that she did. If she made it through this, she could never risk such a magical attack again, not if she wanted her life.

  She rolled over, trying to control her breathing. She just had to hang on for twelve hours, one minute at a time.

  Chapter 18

  “I have to negotiate alone,” Eliza said, as they entered the royal palace where the negotiations would take place.

  “I wouldn't recommend that,” Nathaniel said. “If you do, we cannot protect you if…”

  “There is no way to hold negotiations with a witch escort that will go well. You are to be weapons outside the door,” Eliza said, her jaw set. She had the crown on her head, her royal jewels shining. She struck an imposing figure, not showing a sign of the strain that Nathaniel knew that she felt. “Can you feel me?”

  “Yes,” Nathaniel said as he looked around. “There are a thousand things working to your disadvantage. Their guards…”

  “I know,” Eliza said. “But this is the way life is. You should know, though.” She squeezed his hand. “Should something happen to me…or to you…Sienna will have a safe haven on Jeffro, always. I've made sure of it.”

  “What do you mean?” Nathaniel asked, confused.

  “There is a room in the palace that will be permanently designated by her, until the end of her life. She is a citizen of Jeffro and I have elevated her to royal status, ensuring no other royal can take it away from her.”

  “Royal?” Nathaniel said and Eliza let out her first first smile all day.

  “It's a formality, but she is a Baroness on Jeffro as of three hours ago.``

  “Well,” Nathaniel said, trying to look on the bright side. “She'll like that, thank you. Although I may not tell her, as it will go to her head.”

  “Mm,” Eliza said, as the others approached. Her guards and Desmond had swept the perimeter on their own, trying make sure that there was no obvious threat. The palace guards made no move to stop them, which made Nathaniel nervous. They were insulting their security, by doing their own sweep and yet no one seemed to care. Did they know something that Nathaniel didn't?

  Eliza wants us to stay outside Nathaniel reached to Desmond, who raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He knew the risks in that, but he also knew that diplomacy sometimes meant a one on one interaction.

  “You may enter,” one of the guards said, to Eliza, pulling open the door. Nathaniel reached out to her, touching her wrist to lock onto her mind. She didn't react, but he felt her heart rate surge as she entered.

  Once the door was closed, Nathaniel’s heart rate rose in fear.

  There is much hostility already, Desmond alerted him, as if the air wasn't thick with it. I do not doubt her skill, but I worry that this might be a trap.

  If it is, it's well-hidden, Nathaniel answered, trying not to betray any emotion on his face. His mind kept wandering back to the ship, reaching out to see if there was anything left of Sienna's bond he could feel.

  “Nathaniel.” Desmond surprised him by speaking out loud. “You are not alert.”

  “Lack of sleep,” Nathaniel answered, and then caught Desmond's look. “Perhaps a little more.”

  “Can you do this?” Desmond repeated. “I know the situation you are in.”

  Nathaniel snorted.

  “It explains why they tell us not to form attachments, doesn't it?”

  “Just because the Jurors dictate it does not make it easy,” Desmond answered. “They implement many different things in theory rather than in practice, and they are not without fault themselves.”

  “Of course, they aren't,” Nathaniel answered. “But it makes a place on the Jurors attractive. Sitting in a room, laying down the law without having to experience it on the field.”

  Desmond nudged him. “Is that why you want to fulfill such a lifelong dream?”

  “No,” Nathaniel answered. “I thought I would make a good addition to the Jurors one day, with such experience. And if I ever do make it there, I will remember moments like this, when my mind is in two places.”

  “Mm,” Desmond answered, his eyes clouding for a moment. Nathaniel knew that look, and tensed.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing, stay focused,” Desmond said, looking away but Nathaniel knew something was wrong. Desmond had years of experience on him. He knew that the older Maestro could sense things he couldn't. Desmond's signature was hiding his emotions, staying calm in the face of danger. He had so much skill, so much trust in magic, even if he walked a grey line about the rules.

  “Don't say that,” Nathaniel snapped. “I know that something is wrong, you need to tell me.”

  “It's not relevant to this quest,” Desmond answered. “If they attack Jeffro, thousands of lives will be lost.”

  “If it's not relevant to…” Nathaniel's heart sank. “Sienna.”

  “Nathaniel.” Desmond grabbed his wrist, meeting his eyes. “Stay.”

  “I—” Nathaniel fought against his grip. They locked gazes, not wanting to say words that could never be taken back. And it was in that moment that there was a gun shot from the throne too, followed by another and another.

  Desmond let go of Nathaniel's wrist, and they stormed the door. The guards didn't even have time to register the sound before the witches threw them aside.

  The heavy door took a few seconds to pull open, and Nathaniel cursed the fact that he only had one good hand. It was only with Desmond's help that they could squeeze inside.

  Inside, the King, a beige-colored, wide-eyed alien, stood on his throne stairs, a laser gun in his hand.

  The Queen of Jeffro lay on the floor, blood pooling.

  “NO!” Nathaniel didn't think, rage and panic filling him. He blasted magic forward, and the King fell to the ground in half a second, unmistakably dead.

  It was an error that he knew he would answer for, for years. Killing a monarch under any ci
rcumstances, a monarch put in place by birth, was the ultimate disrespect of nature.

  Even Nathaniel froze in shock, in disbelief of his kneejerk reaction. He knew what he had done, but his mind flashed back to the moment before.

  No witch disrespected a birthright, and yet he had done it without thought, so distracted and so panicked.

  “I'm all right,” Eliza said, as he reached her. He could see right away that the wound was on her arm, and while it had knocked her over, it wasn't fatal unless she bled out. He ripped a shred off his robe, tying it off right away. The blood stopped seeping, and he sat back, covered in sweat and shaking in shock.

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes, you are.”

  “You killed our King,” the Captain of the guards said, in shock, looking to Nathaniel. “You killed our King.”

  “We are witches of the Order,” Desmond spoke, his hand up. “You cannot prosecute us for crimes, we are above the laws of each planet.”

  For a moment, he thought they would respect the fact that witches were governed and only answered to their Jurors, who were known for being both fair and ruthless. They would be prosecution, but not in the local courts.

  And the Captain raised his weapon and Desmond knew that he wouldn't.

  With only one hand to shoot magic and the other one throbbing from even a simple wound tie off, Nathaniel had to rely on Desmond more than he was used to, streaming his magic rather than using his own.

  In less than a minute, every guard who had attacked was dead, magic destroying their life-force. Silence fell over the room as fast as noise had taken it, and all they could hear was the beating of their own hearts, their own ragged breath.

  “I have to take the planet,” Eliza said, into the echoing room. “I have to take control or they will blow Jeffro to Kingdom Come.”

  “Eliza...” Desmond panted. “Your highness. You are asking us to stage a usurpery.”

  “And if we don't, Jeffro will be in oblivion by this afternoon,” Eliza gripped her arm as she rose. “Terence, Alfred,” she snapped at the guards closest to her. “Call for re-enforcement. Lock the family in their bedroom, radio for our allies. This planet will be ours by sunset.”

 

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