Chapter Nine

When it had finally quieted down in the caverns, Ethan made his way to Olivia. She was checking over Jack's vital signs, mouth turned down in the corners. Sensing someone behind her, she turned around and saw Ethan hovering at the edges of the curtains. She managed a small smile for him but he could see the strain in her face. He went to her, but stopped at an arm's length, not sure how far he could go. Almost without thinking, she reached out and put a hand on his chest, tugged at his zipper. He felt it and remembered. He stepped closer, drawing her into the circle of his arms.

"He's too stubborn to not wake up, Liv," Ethan said. "There's also that hard head that protected him."

"That hard head had him taking off the one thing that could have prevented this," Olivia said frustratedly. "If I had more equipment or had more experience..."

"Don't think like that because those are things you can't help. You did all you could for him and no one could have done better. Jack is gonna wake up."

Tilting her face upwards, he kissed her gently. Olivia felt her heart lift at the touch, but she would not sleep until she was sure her cousin would be fine.

"When you two are done, do you mind if I sit here a while?"

Bethie smirked at them but when Olivia tried to break free of Ethan's hold, his arms stayed fast. His blue eyes glittered in challenge at his sister. Their gazes locked for a few seconds, but then Bethie looked away, at the bed where her best friend laid and Ethan knew that she had already forgotten what she had seen.

"It'll give Olivia a chance to sit down," he said, already ushering her out.

"But..."

"Go," Bethie said, interrupting her. "Let him pamper you while he's still on his feet. I guarantee that he'll be out for hours when he finally lies down."

Olivia nodded dumbly, overpowered by the combined Porterfield will. As Ethan sat her down at the table, Bethie sat down on the edge of Jack's bed. His nose had been set and was bandaged. It had taken some work to close the wound on his forehead, but Olivia had been successful and it would not leave a scar. He would have two black eyes within the next few hours, but Bethie was sure he would proud of them more than dismayed. The real injury was to his brain where the trauma had resulted in some swelling. Olivia did what she could to bring it down and though her green eyes were troubled, her hands had been steady as she administered the drugs. Her obvious comfort in what she was doing went a long way in reassuring those watching, even though from time to time she consulted a datapad she kept in her coat pocket. When he was stabilized, she told them that it was up to Jack now to wake up, but if he did not wake up in twenty-four hours...

Taking his hand in hers, she pressed a kiss to his forehead. Seeing him cradled in Olivia's arms, blood covering his face and flightsuit, Bethie had feared the worst and she realized then just how important to her this friend of hers was. When she went into the Black to bring it home, his blood was still on the control panel and the floor, and Bethie found her vision blurred by tears. She was never big on crying but it took a lot to stop from collapsing right then and there. When the Black had taken the hit, she thought that that was the end, but when he had managed to fly it home--she did not think she admired anyone more at that moment.

"You better open those eyes soon, Jackson," she said. "No one else can lead this team but you and I'll be damned if you leave me now."

She thought his eyelid twitched but his gray eyes were nowhere to be seen. Leaving his hand in hers, Bethie settled in.

"Do you mind company?" Jordan asked, coming in.

Bethie shook her head. Jordan pulled up a chair to the bed's side. She reached out to brush a lock of hair from Jack's forehead.

"I hate to admit it, but I didn't think he had it in him," she said quietly.

"I think he surprised all of us with what he could do," Bethie said. "Even himself."

"How many hours do we have left?"

Bethie did not have to ask what she meant. Looking at the chronometer on the wall, her lips thinned.

"Nineteen more hours," she said.

Jordan curled her legs underneath herself, preparing herself for the long wait.

"Jack is never known to be punctual, but he better try this time."

Pidge finished dressing Lance's wound as his friend watched, sweat beading his face. Lance had refused painkillers as they were in short order and he knew there were plenty others who would need it more than himself. Pidge had tried to be as gentle as he could, but any touch on a laserburn was sure to cause plenty of pain because of the open nerve endings. At least the Colonel had not screamed.

"Any word on the Lions?" he asked Pidge.

The hesitation on Pidge's face was apparent. Lance felt a chill go down his spine as Pidge refused to meet his eyes.

"Pidge?"

There was nothing wrong with Lance's reflexes as he caught Pidge's collar before the other man had a chance to roll away in his chair. He brought Pidge's face close to his own, gray eyes narrowed.

"They got away," Pidge said.

"And?"

"Lance...Black Lion took a bad hit."

Aside from a tightening of his jaw, Lance did not show any other emotion. He let Pidge go and swung his legs over the side of the bed, turning away from Pidge's too observant eyes.

"How bad?" he asked, head bowed.

"Jack's out...they're waiting for him to wake up. Olivia is hopeful."

"My boy's injured and the only person there to take care of him is some kid doctor."

The flatness in Lance's tone made Pidge nervous but when Lance turned to face him, his countenance was blank.

"Give me the status of the base," he said.

Pidge wanted to offer his friend words of comfort but Lance did not seem like he wanted to hear them. Biting back a sigh, Pidge gave Lance another piece of news that he was sure would not be welcome.

"Lotor's alive," he said. "We just got word from Romelle that he's living on a fringe world, has himself a family, and swears he has had no part in this."

Lance gave Pidge an unreadable look.

"Are you trying to hit the record for the number of reports you can give me that'll only make me even more stressed out than I already am? Lotor...alive. Christ. Romelle hasn't killed him, has she?"

"No. In fact, Alana seems to have built up a rapport with him."

Lance closed his eyes.

"What have they learned?"

Pidge told him about Arus' slumbering magical properties and Merla's desire to harness the power for herself. In the report, Romelle had quoted what Lotor told Alana about power beyond imagining and he repeated that to Lance.

"How long until they reach Prinoth?" Lance asked.

"A week if that hunk of junk doesn't break down halfway there," Pidge answered.

"Pidge, we need to find someone on planet who can help us shed some light on this whole magic business. All the research we did on Voltron, I want that back out. You are gonna be in charge of this. Pick a couple trustworthy people to help you. I want daily summaries of what you've found."

"I'm on it."

With an invisible hand, Merla held Keith up against the wall by his throat. His air was not cut off but he was gasping for breath as his hands searched for something to hang on to. Allura could only watch helplessly, unaware of how her own magic could counteract Merla's.

"Your people are smarter than I thought," Merla said. "I thought we would at least have taken over this continent before they could fight back, but I have learned that you Arusians must never be underestimated. It was my fault, I should have already known that from Zarkon's trials. I should have known your offspring would cause me the same grief you caused him."

She released Keith and he slid to the ground, coughing. Allura started to go to him, but the Drule soldiers blocked her path with their weapons.

"I want them separated," Merla said, coming towards Allura. "I want this one in my rooms and you can throw him in the docking bay with the rest of them."

Allura could only watch as they hauled her husband to his feet. He turned his head and their eyes met before the doors slid shut behind him. Enraged blue eyes met Merla's yellow ones.

"Yes, I've decided to punish the two of you for Voltron's antics today. I thought it was a bit too merciful for me to keep the two of you together, but call me an old romantic. You should at least be thanking me for not killing him since he's of no use to me really. You're the reason I came to Arus, Your Highness."

"What is it you want with us?" Allura said acidly. "After all this time, you have not given me a hint of what you want. I don't think it's Voltron and I don't think it's the land this castle is sitting on."

"On the contrary, it is the land and it is you, and your blood, that have drawn me to this place once again. I am no warmonger, Allura. I respect life too much for that, though I'm sure you'll find that hard to believe. I am a sorceress above all else; not a witch or spellcaster. In my veins flows power greater than Hagar could have ever imagined when she took me in as a student. The old witch could not have foreseen the speed with which I surpassed her and by how much."

"I never had much patience for braggarts."

The air around Merla crackled ominously though her face did not shift from its pleasant expression. Allura glared and as if in response to Merla's show of strength, she felt in her core the glow of power that she had only experienced once before. It burned inside her like a captured star but she did not know how to use it, at least beyond healing the sick.

"Your achievements always impressed me, but your mistakes are great. Not learning how to use your magic was one of them. Surrendering is another."

Merla rushed at Allura but the Queen had not forgotten her combat skills. She stepped out of the way and had her hands out to use Merla's momentum to push her into the wall, but the second her hands made contact, Allura froze. It was as if the power she had harbored only seconds before was ripped out of her and she stumbled.

Merla turned her head and smiled wickedly.