Blood Bond (The Stones of Terrene Chronicles Book 4), page 7
“Like I probably should’ve listened to Finn, but I currently don’t care.” Kerlee’s hand hovered just over his stomach as he talked. His shoulders drooped. “I don’t know how Jade toughed out her injury so well. Our princess mechanic is more resilient than we gave her credit for. Bring her back safe, will you?”
“You know it.” Ben leaned over the back of an empty chair and cocked his head at Serena. The woman was dressed in worn travel clothes, several weapons strapped to her legs and a sword at her hip. Ben nodded at her. “You coming too?”
“Of course.” Serena stated as though her answer was the most obvious thing in the world. She must’ve seen the question in his eyes, as she sighed and gestured with the dagger. “Victor kidnapped our princess. He has to pay.”
Ben cautiously sat in the chair next to her, wary of where she’d point that tip next. “Are you Doldran?”
She laughed shortly, her eyes crinkling. “No. Piovantian.”
“Then why?” Ben asked. He couldn’t remember seeing Jade and Serena spending more than a few minutes together in passing over the last year. What kind of friendship did they have that would make Serena willing to leave the known dangers here for the unknown?
Serena gave him a flat look. “I’m part of Samantha’s crew. Jade is family.”
Her simple statement took him aback. It was clear she meant it. Somehow, loyalty and friendship created a bond this strong, despite not being on the same airship.
Jade was lucky to have friends and family like these around her. The comforting warmth that thought brought faded into a core of coldness. He and Sara didn’t have many friends like that back home. A few, but not enough to even fill the table he was sitting at right now. Were those friends with Sara through this? Did she have any support while he was missing?
He ignored the sound of footsteps behind him as he chewed on the thought. He’d been gone for what, a few months shy of a year? How long would it take for them to mobilize around Sara? How long would it take until they gave up hope and started drifting away, each to their own life, leaving her to cope on her own?
The back of a hand brushed Ben’s shoulder, gently tugging him from his sobering questions.
Raine smiled softly at him, though shadows lurked behind her eyes. “Hey, stranger.” She pulled a chair over from the nearby table, sitting partway between him and Serena. Raine’s smile slipped. “Papa has some things to share with everyone before we go.”
Ben glanced at the doorway in time to see Finn enter. He passed the low navy-blue couch and stood before them, placing a stack of papers onto the table. Zak stood and tilted his chair at Finn in a wordless offer. Finn sank into the seat, his shoulders slumped.
“I need to tell you all something.” Finn glanced around the table. “If you all remember, back in Antius, there were several occasions that I was called the wrong name.”
“Flint.” Ben remembered aloud. “Both Emperor Ezran and Ana called you that, didn’t they?”
“Yes.” Finn’s lips pressed together. “They were both half-right.”
Brandon coughed. “Half-right? How could they be half-right?”
Finn shuffled the papers before him, his gaze fixed on them. Fresh lines curved around his eyes, his mouth, and more white salted his hair than Ben remembered. Finn flicked a sheet of paper with his finger. “First. I’ve been looking over these notes from Lucio that Vodan so kindly provided for us. It mentions another sage. One that I knew long ago.” His gaze darted toward Brandon. “Raz.”
Brandon’s brow creased. “Raz? Wasn’t he one of the seven sages?”
“How did you know one of the seven sages?” Zak asked. He crossed his arms as he studied Finn. “You’re not old enough to have known him. That was literally over a lifetime ago.”
Finn started nodding during Brandon’s hesitant comment and Zak’s observation. “You’re both right.” Finn sucked in a deep breath. “Tell me, young Monomi, do you remember the names of the seven sages?” Finn’s lips quirked. “No offense taken if you don’t. You won’t be graded for this.”
Zak huffed, his eye twitching once before he propped his hands on his hips. “Uh. Lucio was one, and Raz.” Finn nodded and rolled his wrist for Zak to continue. Zak sucked in his cheeks. “Jase, Nicholas, Willas, Marco, and”—Zak’s eyes widened—“Flint.” Zak pointed at Finn, his finger shaking and mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Flint.”
Several voices broke in questions and whispered oaths while Raine shifted next to Ben. He tried to wrap his mind around what Finn was saying. So he was Flint? Was he like Lucio, where he didn’t age the same? But Finn had been looking significantly older lately. Each new stressful situation seemed to add years to his countenance. Ben glanced at Raine –– had she known what Finn was going to say? The knowing gleam in her eye suggested as much.
Finn raised his hand, and everyone at the table quieted. “I was one of the seven, yes. They were part right, part wrong.” He closed his eyes briefly. “But that was a different me, and not something we need to get into here and now.”
“I want to get into it here and now,” Kerlee muttered under his breath.
Brandon clapped Finn on the back then bowed. “Thank you for trusting us with this knowledge, Honored Elder.”
Finn snorted. “I’d rather not have rumors start abounding about me again, thank you. Finn is sufficient.”
“Why Finn and not Flint?” Kerlee’s question floated over from his reclined chair. “Wouldn’t it be easier to keep the name you’re used to?”
Finn dropped his chin to his chest, quiet for an awkwardly long moment before looking up at the group. “What happened to me when the barrier went up –– it set me back, age-wise. I had a second chance at life.” A small, almost-smile touched his lips. “And my apprentice had the misfortune of having to raise his master. He’d given me a new name during that time, and once I was an adult, I chose to go by Finn.” He waved a sun-spotted hand, as if brushing the memory away. “There were reasons for everything, but that is not the purpose of this conversation,” he chided gently.
“It’s weird.” Geist muttered.
Finn tapped the papers and his gaze traveled around the table, pausing on Ben for a moment. “What’s important is that I knew Raz, and I can confirm his coding and his voice in these documents. He mentions passing back and forth through the Void.”
A buzzing rose in Ben’s mind, drowning out Finn’s next words.
It was possible to pass back and forth through the Void? Maybe Ben’s mass-death theory was wrong. Maybe he would be able to return home!
Finn’s voice cut through the turmoil in Ben’s head. “The price of ripping through the Void … is death.” Finn’s words were slow, ponderous with the weight of what he was saying. “There need to be countless casualties, all at once, to tear it.” He met Ben’s eyes again. “Raz’s research here makes it seem as though an event causing several people to die could create a tear in the Void for someone to pass through. Makes sense as to why during a great many tragedies, not everyone is found. Some crossed over.”
Ben’s head swam and he gripped his chair, the hope that had fluttered to life viciously torn to shreds. So it was confirmed. Death. He couldn’t ask for countless to die just so he could return home. He closed his eyes and exhaled. There went that idea. For him and Raine to both go to Earth? Out of the question.
“There’s more,” Finn’s voice gentled. “Based off of what I’m reading, it sounds like time is different between the two lands.”
Ben looked up at Finn, ignoring the sympathy and concern on Geist’s face. “What kind of time difference?”
“Earth seems to be faster.” Finn pressed his hand against the table, trapping the papers there. “Son, according to these notes, your earth time goes twice as fast.”
Ben stared, struggling to make sense of Finn’s words. “Faster …” His heart trembled as the information sank in. “You mean, I’ve—I’ve been gone for nearly two years? My sister has been alone for two years?”
Raine slipped her hand over his, but he could barely feel it with the shock running through his veins. He couldn’t return, not if the price of travel was mass death. What about a message? Would that require death too? He had to send her a message. Something. Somehow.
“I’m still going with your group here,” Finn continued. “And I’ll be looking through these notes for more answers.” He cleared his throat and shot Ben a pitying smile, clearly understanding Ben’s struggle and panic. “We all need answers, and all the questions stem from the Void. We’ll find something.”
Finn stood and gave Zak a somber nod. “I haven’t yet found anything in here that can be useful for locating your wife, but if I do, we’ll use it right away.”
Zak chewed on his bottom lip. “If you’ve had two lifetimes, doesn’t that mean you have twice the knowledge and experience?”
“To a degree, yes.” Finn sighed. “But my memories of life as Flint are murky at best. Randall, my apprentice, told me little of who I was before the barrier, not wanting to influence my decisions as I grew. There are vague recollections, and my strength is above the average sage, but it’s not like I’m all-knowing.”
The small light of hope in Zak’s eyes dimmed. “Oh.”
Ben stayed sitting while Finn worked through the small group, speaking to each of them, giving encouragement and insights where he could.
Finn stopped by him last, and the sage dropped into the seat Serena had just vacated. He gave Ben a grim smile. “Don’t lose hope,” Finn said softly. “We’ve learned this much. Maybe we’ll find more.”
Ben nodded stiffly. “I hope you’re right.”
Finn addressed his next words to Raine. “It’s time.”
Raine swallowed hard, nodding several times before standing up and pacing away from them, her strides taking her across the room with quick efficiency.
Finn watched her a moment before dropping his voice for Ben. “She’ll catch up soon.” He made a shooing motion with his hand. “Go get the Phoenix ready.”
Chapter Twelve
Raine
Raine’s mouth felt as dry as the Arid Plains as she waited for a chance to speak to Brandon alone. She’d caught Ben’s curious glance before he turned away, grabbing his bag on his way out the door. She tried to swallow. She’d discussed her options with Papa, and in her gut, she felt like this was her best choice, but still, the very idea of what she was about to do made her knees want to lock up and her stomach rebel.
She wasn’t going to be left behind when they left to find Jade, nor would she risk her blood bond being activated and used by some other Elph.
At last the room had cleared save for her, Papa, and Brandon. She exhaled through her nose and walked up to his chair, debating on how to treat him. Like a comrade from their travels? Like the ruler he was?
He glanced up, surprise briefly flaring in his eyes. “Raine. You’re still here.”
“I have a request to make of you, sir.” She bowed, feeling strangely awkward, knowing she was about to put him in a position he wouldn’t like.
Brandon set down the pen in his hand and turned from the table to face her directly. “What is it?”
The weight of what she was about to do pulled her to her knees. She bowed her head, her hair a curtain on either side of her face. She stared at his scuffed-and-polished black boots. “Activate my bond. Please.”
Brandon choked above her. “What? Why?”
She lifted her head enough to see his knees in her peripheral. She clenched her fists, unwilling to shake or shudder in her determination and have that be misread as fear. “Because I don’t want to risk someone else in the north taking control of me. You—you can give me orders that I would obey without hesitation, and I trust your orders more than any Elph.” Her heart raced, and her pulse pounded in her neck. How could she make him see that this was the safest option for her? “You can tell me to make my own decisions for the rest of my life. And it would mean that few others could have control over me. I need to have that freedom, that security,” she pleaded, finally looking up at him.
Brandon’s mouth hung open, and he stared at her as if he had no idea what to say.
She read the answer in his eyes, though, and she bowed her head again, her voice cracking. “Please.”
“Finn, what? I—” Brandon’s own voice shook. “I can’t do this to your granddaughter.”
“She came to me with this idea, and we’ve discussed it already,” Papa replied calmly from the other side of the room. “This is the safest option she has, if she’s to go north.”
“I don’t—” Brandon’s volume dropped. “Fine.” His tone became formal. “Raine, rise.”
She stood, her jaw clenched. Was he going to do it now? Would it hurt?
Lines of resignation creased Brandon’s brow as he stared at her. He stood so they were eye level, and he gripped the pommel of his sword while reaching out to touch her elbow, just above her tattoo.
“I wish it didn’t have to be like this,” he whispered. He dropped his hand, gently wrapping his fingers around her tattoo at the same time as his sword hand brushed the gem on his hilt.
It was as if silent lightning seared through her veins. She could feel a tug in her gut, linking her to Brandon somehow.
Brandon lifted his chin, his gaze intent. “Raine. Live your life as you want. Do as you want. No one holds claim over you but yourself. Not even me.”
As quickly as she’d been aware of their connection, it seemed to fade. As if there was invisible black cord binding her will to his, somehow chaining them together. She closed her eyes, trying to find the illusive strands of magic that she knew were now active, but there was nothing. That link had faded already, leaving her with just the memory of how it had felt. She was different, and yet the same.
“Thank you.” She bowed again, trying to hide the tears of relief that had sprung into her eyes.
“I’m not sure if I can say ‘you’re welcome,’” Brandon replied. He settled his hand on her shoulder, prompting her to raise her head again. His eyes searched hers. “But if it helps you, and you can bring my daughter back, I will be forever in your debt.”
Chapter Thirteen
Weston
Weston screwed the last bolt into the metal frame of the parajumper pack, set his screwdriver on the work bench table, then gently shook the contraption. It held without creaking, and he slid off the stool to re-inspect the welding between the personal-sized turbine and pack. The inspection confirmed what he already knew: it was as ready as it would ever be.
He ran a finger over the woven leather harness. It would be a terrifying ride for anyone afraid of heights, but the pack meant soldiers could jump from airships and control where they landed, even letting them hover above the ground.
He heaved the bulky pack off the workbench and to the floor, mindful to not drop it on Pistoia’s outstretched feet. Concrete and metal squealed and he grimaced. Well, now he could say it was impact tested. He gripped the two hand gears and stepped onto the small footplate, carefully shifting his weight to and fro, testing the balance.
Airships had been relatively standard tech in the war before the barrier. Chances were good that in the time apart, the Elph had come up with their own ways to down other aircraft, and Weston wanted to give his men the chance to start fighting on their descent and keep fighting once they’d landed. This device might also offer the opportunity for his troops to drop their men from the skies to land behind enemy lines. If soldiers could have both grappling hooks and parajumper packs on hand for evacuation, he’d be ecstatic. If they could use the element of surprise to capitalize, all his design work would be worth it. They needed all the help they could get.
“How’s it feel?” Pistoia’s voice broke into his thoughts.
He looked up to meet her goggle-eyed scrutiny. “It feels good.” He knew his grin was borderline impish, but he didn’t tamp down on his excitement. “Let’s get it outside, and I’ll test it.”
“Yes, to outside. No, to you testing it.” Pistoia set aside the schematic she’d been reviewing and shoved her goggles up on her head, leaving furrows in her short, pink hair. “You are absolutely not going to be the first person trying it.”
Weston rolled his eyes and stepped off the footplate before circling the pack. Every day held potential for disaster. This would almost be a more preferable way of meeting potential dark fate. “If you’re concerned about my safety, every day is a risk, Pistoia.”
“Then you can let someone else have the joy of this particular risk.” she retorted, leaning against their shared workstation. “I trust your work, but I’m not going to sign off on something that could potentially leave you brain-dead when we still need you.” She tapped Weston’s forehead as she spoke. “Besides, you need to watch from the ground for anything that seems off.”
Weston pursed his lips, biting back his protest. That much was true. It’d be good to see how it handled before trying it to feel how it handled. “Fine.”
Pistoia winked. “I knew you’d see reason.” She clucked her tongue and grabbed the arm of a passing mechanic. “Fetch Niles Herrera, would you? He should be out front.”
The girl nodded and glanced back at Weston, giving him and the pack a once-over before grinning broadly and disappearing in the direction of the workshop entrance.
Weston scowled at the frame for the turbine. Everyone else in the workshop didn’t treat him any differently, despite him now being their lord ruler. And Pistoia often ignored the little detail of his leadership role, frequently giving him dirty jobs that were borderline dangerous. So why would she care now, when he was finally testing something that could affect the war effort?
“I’d prefer to test it myself,” he tried again. He may be her lord ruler, but she was the Master Mechanist. Her authority trumped him here. “As the one who designed it, I’ll be able to have a better feel for how it’s working or not, and what I may need to adjust.” He watched Niles slip through the crowded walkways toward him, and Weston gave Pistoia his full attention, putting every ounce of persuasive energy into his words. “Besides, as the designer, it’s only right that any danger toward the first rider be on me. That way, if I messed up somehow, I did it to myself.”
“You know it.” Ben leaned over the back of an empty chair and cocked his head at Serena. The woman was dressed in worn travel clothes, several weapons strapped to her legs and a sword at her hip. Ben nodded at her. “You coming too?”
“Of course.” Serena stated as though her answer was the most obvious thing in the world. She must’ve seen the question in his eyes, as she sighed and gestured with the dagger. “Victor kidnapped our princess. He has to pay.”
Ben cautiously sat in the chair next to her, wary of where she’d point that tip next. “Are you Doldran?”
She laughed shortly, her eyes crinkling. “No. Piovantian.”
“Then why?” Ben asked. He couldn’t remember seeing Jade and Serena spending more than a few minutes together in passing over the last year. What kind of friendship did they have that would make Serena willing to leave the known dangers here for the unknown?
Serena gave him a flat look. “I’m part of Samantha’s crew. Jade is family.”
Her simple statement took him aback. It was clear she meant it. Somehow, loyalty and friendship created a bond this strong, despite not being on the same airship.
Jade was lucky to have friends and family like these around her. The comforting warmth that thought brought faded into a core of coldness. He and Sara didn’t have many friends like that back home. A few, but not enough to even fill the table he was sitting at right now. Were those friends with Sara through this? Did she have any support while he was missing?
He ignored the sound of footsteps behind him as he chewed on the thought. He’d been gone for what, a few months shy of a year? How long would it take for them to mobilize around Sara? How long would it take until they gave up hope and started drifting away, each to their own life, leaving her to cope on her own?
The back of a hand brushed Ben’s shoulder, gently tugging him from his sobering questions.
Raine smiled softly at him, though shadows lurked behind her eyes. “Hey, stranger.” She pulled a chair over from the nearby table, sitting partway between him and Serena. Raine’s smile slipped. “Papa has some things to share with everyone before we go.”
Ben glanced at the doorway in time to see Finn enter. He passed the low navy-blue couch and stood before them, placing a stack of papers onto the table. Zak stood and tilted his chair at Finn in a wordless offer. Finn sank into the seat, his shoulders slumped.
“I need to tell you all something.” Finn glanced around the table. “If you all remember, back in Antius, there were several occasions that I was called the wrong name.”
“Flint.” Ben remembered aloud. “Both Emperor Ezran and Ana called you that, didn’t they?”
“Yes.” Finn’s lips pressed together. “They were both half-right.”
Brandon coughed. “Half-right? How could they be half-right?”
Finn shuffled the papers before him, his gaze fixed on them. Fresh lines curved around his eyes, his mouth, and more white salted his hair than Ben remembered. Finn flicked a sheet of paper with his finger. “First. I’ve been looking over these notes from Lucio that Vodan so kindly provided for us. It mentions another sage. One that I knew long ago.” His gaze darted toward Brandon. “Raz.”
Brandon’s brow creased. “Raz? Wasn’t he one of the seven sages?”
“How did you know one of the seven sages?” Zak asked. He crossed his arms as he studied Finn. “You’re not old enough to have known him. That was literally over a lifetime ago.”
Finn started nodding during Brandon’s hesitant comment and Zak’s observation. “You’re both right.” Finn sucked in a deep breath. “Tell me, young Monomi, do you remember the names of the seven sages?” Finn’s lips quirked. “No offense taken if you don’t. You won’t be graded for this.”
Zak huffed, his eye twitching once before he propped his hands on his hips. “Uh. Lucio was one, and Raz.” Finn nodded and rolled his wrist for Zak to continue. Zak sucked in his cheeks. “Jase, Nicholas, Willas, Marco, and”—Zak’s eyes widened—“Flint.” Zak pointed at Finn, his finger shaking and mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Flint.”
Several voices broke in questions and whispered oaths while Raine shifted next to Ben. He tried to wrap his mind around what Finn was saying. So he was Flint? Was he like Lucio, where he didn’t age the same? But Finn had been looking significantly older lately. Each new stressful situation seemed to add years to his countenance. Ben glanced at Raine –– had she known what Finn was going to say? The knowing gleam in her eye suggested as much.
Finn raised his hand, and everyone at the table quieted. “I was one of the seven, yes. They were part right, part wrong.” He closed his eyes briefly. “But that was a different me, and not something we need to get into here and now.”
“I want to get into it here and now,” Kerlee muttered under his breath.
Brandon clapped Finn on the back then bowed. “Thank you for trusting us with this knowledge, Honored Elder.”
Finn snorted. “I’d rather not have rumors start abounding about me again, thank you. Finn is sufficient.”
“Why Finn and not Flint?” Kerlee’s question floated over from his reclined chair. “Wouldn’t it be easier to keep the name you’re used to?”
Finn dropped his chin to his chest, quiet for an awkwardly long moment before looking up at the group. “What happened to me when the barrier went up –– it set me back, age-wise. I had a second chance at life.” A small, almost-smile touched his lips. “And my apprentice had the misfortune of having to raise his master. He’d given me a new name during that time, and once I was an adult, I chose to go by Finn.” He waved a sun-spotted hand, as if brushing the memory away. “There were reasons for everything, but that is not the purpose of this conversation,” he chided gently.
“It’s weird.” Geist muttered.
Finn tapped the papers and his gaze traveled around the table, pausing on Ben for a moment. “What’s important is that I knew Raz, and I can confirm his coding and his voice in these documents. He mentions passing back and forth through the Void.”
A buzzing rose in Ben’s mind, drowning out Finn’s next words.
It was possible to pass back and forth through the Void? Maybe Ben’s mass-death theory was wrong. Maybe he would be able to return home!
Finn’s voice cut through the turmoil in Ben’s head. “The price of ripping through the Void … is death.” Finn’s words were slow, ponderous with the weight of what he was saying. “There need to be countless casualties, all at once, to tear it.” He met Ben’s eyes again. “Raz’s research here makes it seem as though an event causing several people to die could create a tear in the Void for someone to pass through. Makes sense as to why during a great many tragedies, not everyone is found. Some crossed over.”
Ben’s head swam and he gripped his chair, the hope that had fluttered to life viciously torn to shreds. So it was confirmed. Death. He couldn’t ask for countless to die just so he could return home. He closed his eyes and exhaled. There went that idea. For him and Raine to both go to Earth? Out of the question.
“There’s more,” Finn’s voice gentled. “Based off of what I’m reading, it sounds like time is different between the two lands.”
Ben looked up at Finn, ignoring the sympathy and concern on Geist’s face. “What kind of time difference?”
“Earth seems to be faster.” Finn pressed his hand against the table, trapping the papers there. “Son, according to these notes, your earth time goes twice as fast.”
Ben stared, struggling to make sense of Finn’s words. “Faster …” His heart trembled as the information sank in. “You mean, I’ve—I’ve been gone for nearly two years? My sister has been alone for two years?”
Raine slipped her hand over his, but he could barely feel it with the shock running through his veins. He couldn’t return, not if the price of travel was mass death. What about a message? Would that require death too? He had to send her a message. Something. Somehow.
“I’m still going with your group here,” Finn continued. “And I’ll be looking through these notes for more answers.” He cleared his throat and shot Ben a pitying smile, clearly understanding Ben’s struggle and panic. “We all need answers, and all the questions stem from the Void. We’ll find something.”
Finn stood and gave Zak a somber nod. “I haven’t yet found anything in here that can be useful for locating your wife, but if I do, we’ll use it right away.”
Zak chewed on his bottom lip. “If you’ve had two lifetimes, doesn’t that mean you have twice the knowledge and experience?”
“To a degree, yes.” Finn sighed. “But my memories of life as Flint are murky at best. Randall, my apprentice, told me little of who I was before the barrier, not wanting to influence my decisions as I grew. There are vague recollections, and my strength is above the average sage, but it’s not like I’m all-knowing.”
The small light of hope in Zak’s eyes dimmed. “Oh.”
Ben stayed sitting while Finn worked through the small group, speaking to each of them, giving encouragement and insights where he could.
Finn stopped by him last, and the sage dropped into the seat Serena had just vacated. He gave Ben a grim smile. “Don’t lose hope,” Finn said softly. “We’ve learned this much. Maybe we’ll find more.”
Ben nodded stiffly. “I hope you’re right.”
Finn addressed his next words to Raine. “It’s time.”
Raine swallowed hard, nodding several times before standing up and pacing away from them, her strides taking her across the room with quick efficiency.
Finn watched her a moment before dropping his voice for Ben. “She’ll catch up soon.” He made a shooing motion with his hand. “Go get the Phoenix ready.”
Chapter Twelve
Raine
Raine’s mouth felt as dry as the Arid Plains as she waited for a chance to speak to Brandon alone. She’d caught Ben’s curious glance before he turned away, grabbing his bag on his way out the door. She tried to swallow. She’d discussed her options with Papa, and in her gut, she felt like this was her best choice, but still, the very idea of what she was about to do made her knees want to lock up and her stomach rebel.
She wasn’t going to be left behind when they left to find Jade, nor would she risk her blood bond being activated and used by some other Elph.
At last the room had cleared save for her, Papa, and Brandon. She exhaled through her nose and walked up to his chair, debating on how to treat him. Like a comrade from their travels? Like the ruler he was?
He glanced up, surprise briefly flaring in his eyes. “Raine. You’re still here.”
“I have a request to make of you, sir.” She bowed, feeling strangely awkward, knowing she was about to put him in a position he wouldn’t like.
Brandon set down the pen in his hand and turned from the table to face her directly. “What is it?”
The weight of what she was about to do pulled her to her knees. She bowed her head, her hair a curtain on either side of her face. She stared at his scuffed-and-polished black boots. “Activate my bond. Please.”
Brandon choked above her. “What? Why?”
She lifted her head enough to see his knees in her peripheral. She clenched her fists, unwilling to shake or shudder in her determination and have that be misread as fear. “Because I don’t want to risk someone else in the north taking control of me. You—you can give me orders that I would obey without hesitation, and I trust your orders more than any Elph.” Her heart raced, and her pulse pounded in her neck. How could she make him see that this was the safest option for her? “You can tell me to make my own decisions for the rest of my life. And it would mean that few others could have control over me. I need to have that freedom, that security,” she pleaded, finally looking up at him.
Brandon’s mouth hung open, and he stared at her as if he had no idea what to say.
She read the answer in his eyes, though, and she bowed her head again, her voice cracking. “Please.”
“Finn, what? I—” Brandon’s own voice shook. “I can’t do this to your granddaughter.”
“She came to me with this idea, and we’ve discussed it already,” Papa replied calmly from the other side of the room. “This is the safest option she has, if she’s to go north.”
“I don’t—” Brandon’s volume dropped. “Fine.” His tone became formal. “Raine, rise.”
She stood, her jaw clenched. Was he going to do it now? Would it hurt?
Lines of resignation creased Brandon’s brow as he stared at her. He stood so they were eye level, and he gripped the pommel of his sword while reaching out to touch her elbow, just above her tattoo.
“I wish it didn’t have to be like this,” he whispered. He dropped his hand, gently wrapping his fingers around her tattoo at the same time as his sword hand brushed the gem on his hilt.
It was as if silent lightning seared through her veins. She could feel a tug in her gut, linking her to Brandon somehow.
Brandon lifted his chin, his gaze intent. “Raine. Live your life as you want. Do as you want. No one holds claim over you but yourself. Not even me.”
As quickly as she’d been aware of their connection, it seemed to fade. As if there was invisible black cord binding her will to his, somehow chaining them together. She closed her eyes, trying to find the illusive strands of magic that she knew were now active, but there was nothing. That link had faded already, leaving her with just the memory of how it had felt. She was different, and yet the same.
“Thank you.” She bowed again, trying to hide the tears of relief that had sprung into her eyes.
“I’m not sure if I can say ‘you’re welcome,’” Brandon replied. He settled his hand on her shoulder, prompting her to raise her head again. His eyes searched hers. “But if it helps you, and you can bring my daughter back, I will be forever in your debt.”
Chapter Thirteen
Weston
Weston screwed the last bolt into the metal frame of the parajumper pack, set his screwdriver on the work bench table, then gently shook the contraption. It held without creaking, and he slid off the stool to re-inspect the welding between the personal-sized turbine and pack. The inspection confirmed what he already knew: it was as ready as it would ever be.
He ran a finger over the woven leather harness. It would be a terrifying ride for anyone afraid of heights, but the pack meant soldiers could jump from airships and control where they landed, even letting them hover above the ground.
He heaved the bulky pack off the workbench and to the floor, mindful to not drop it on Pistoia’s outstretched feet. Concrete and metal squealed and he grimaced. Well, now he could say it was impact tested. He gripped the two hand gears and stepped onto the small footplate, carefully shifting his weight to and fro, testing the balance.
Airships had been relatively standard tech in the war before the barrier. Chances were good that in the time apart, the Elph had come up with their own ways to down other aircraft, and Weston wanted to give his men the chance to start fighting on their descent and keep fighting once they’d landed. This device might also offer the opportunity for his troops to drop their men from the skies to land behind enemy lines. If soldiers could have both grappling hooks and parajumper packs on hand for evacuation, he’d be ecstatic. If they could use the element of surprise to capitalize, all his design work would be worth it. They needed all the help they could get.
“How’s it feel?” Pistoia’s voice broke into his thoughts.
He looked up to meet her goggle-eyed scrutiny. “It feels good.” He knew his grin was borderline impish, but he didn’t tamp down on his excitement. “Let’s get it outside, and I’ll test it.”
“Yes, to outside. No, to you testing it.” Pistoia set aside the schematic she’d been reviewing and shoved her goggles up on her head, leaving furrows in her short, pink hair. “You are absolutely not going to be the first person trying it.”
Weston rolled his eyes and stepped off the footplate before circling the pack. Every day held potential for disaster. This would almost be a more preferable way of meeting potential dark fate. “If you’re concerned about my safety, every day is a risk, Pistoia.”
“Then you can let someone else have the joy of this particular risk.” she retorted, leaning against their shared workstation. “I trust your work, but I’m not going to sign off on something that could potentially leave you brain-dead when we still need you.” She tapped Weston’s forehead as she spoke. “Besides, you need to watch from the ground for anything that seems off.”
Weston pursed his lips, biting back his protest. That much was true. It’d be good to see how it handled before trying it to feel how it handled. “Fine.”
Pistoia winked. “I knew you’d see reason.” She clucked her tongue and grabbed the arm of a passing mechanic. “Fetch Niles Herrera, would you? He should be out front.”
The girl nodded and glanced back at Weston, giving him and the pack a once-over before grinning broadly and disappearing in the direction of the workshop entrance.
Weston scowled at the frame for the turbine. Everyone else in the workshop didn’t treat him any differently, despite him now being their lord ruler. And Pistoia often ignored the little detail of his leadership role, frequently giving him dirty jobs that were borderline dangerous. So why would she care now, when he was finally testing something that could affect the war effort?
“I’d prefer to test it myself,” he tried again. He may be her lord ruler, but she was the Master Mechanist. Her authority trumped him here. “As the one who designed it, I’ll be able to have a better feel for how it’s working or not, and what I may need to adjust.” He watched Niles slip through the crowded walkways toward him, and Weston gave Pistoia his full attention, putting every ounce of persuasive energy into his words. “Besides, as the designer, it’s only right that any danger toward the first rider be on me. That way, if I messed up somehow, I did it to myself.”
