Witch Rising

by Amber Argyle

  Bian’s lips thinned. “Your father was remiss in not finding you a husband before his death. It was something I urged him to do many times.”

  Lilette turned away. “He was not my father.”

  Bian made a sound of disapproval. “I think it would have hurt him to hear you speak of him so.”

  A stab of guilt pulsed through Lilette. “I do not want a husband.”

  Bian gave her a depreciating smile. “You are a woman. You do not know what you want. And as the village Lord, your care has fallen to me.” He gestured to the men beside him. “We have reviewed all offers, and I am pleased to have you as my fourth wife.”

  Lilette shuddered in revulsion and a laugh burst free. “So you’re doing what’s best for me? And not what’s best for yourself?”

  His gaze narrowed. “I am the wealthiest man on the island, and I have offered far more than anyone else. Of course my offer is the best.”

  She had the disconcerting sense that this was all a nightmare and she would wake and her life would be back to normal. “I will never marry you.” She spun on her heel, vaulted up the steps to her hut, and began shoving her meager belongings into a basket. She was taking Fa’s boat and leaving. Tonight.

  She knew how to work a boat, and she’d seen enough charts that she could probably find another island. Take a ship from there. And if she died of thirst before then, better dead than being married to Bian.

  “I thought you might be difficult.”

  She looked up to see Bian standing on her front porch, staring at her.

  “And that is why I brought this.” A chain dangled from his fingertips—the only metal she’d ever seen on the island.

  She froze. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  He grunted. “The offer has already been accepted. You are my property. I will confine you just as I would an errant child.”

  She lunged for the door. The two village elders caught her arms in front of her and secured her with ropes while Bian went through her things. He took her knives. Thankfully, he missed the coins she’d hidden at the bottom of a basket of rice.

  They released her, and she noticed him staring at her throat in fascination.

  She swallowed. “Which one of them told you?”

  His gaze lighted on her face. “We will have daughters, and they shall all have your power.”

  Anger flared through her. Salfe wouldn’t have betrayed her. It must have been Quo.

  Bian backed away and shut the door in Lilette’s face. She tugged on the chain snaking around the bamboo poles. It clinked in resistance.

  He peeked in at her. “We will be married in three weeks, after the full moon.”

  She glared at him and said nothing.

  Chapter 5

  Lilette readjusted her grip on the blade, her shoulders aching from sawing back and forth across the fibers that held the door to the frame. The bindings for her hands already lay in a shredded bundle at her side. The binding gave with a satisfying snap. She went still, listening to see if anyone had heard. But there was only the sound of chickens roosting under the floor.

  One more binding and she’d be able to crawl through. The village elders would have no one to blame for her escape but themselves—thinking a chained door would keep her in a house made of bamboo and fibers. Fools, the lot of them.

  She started on the second binding. Sweat trickled between her breasts and her clothes clung to her damp skin, but she ignored everything except the task at hand on this miserable, breezeless night.

  Finally, the second binding gave. With only one left, the door sagged crookedly against the top of the frame. Lilette knelt and eased the corner of the door aside, pleased to find room for her to crawl through. She was halfway out when a sound made her freeze. The soft shush of feet through sand. Retreating into the hut, she bit back a curse as a jagged piece of bamboo ripped out a chunk of her hair.

  She readjusted the door and frantically brushed broken bits of thread and bamboo between the gaps in the flooring. Then she dropped to her belly and feigned sleep. Whoever it was slipped nearly soundlessly up the ladder to the porch. They obviously didn’t want to be heard—whether by her or the other villagers, she wasn’t sure.

  Peeking through slitted eyes, she made out a shadowy outline reaching for the lock. The person was bound to notice half the bindings had been cut away when the door fell on him or her. This was not going according to plan.

  The lock snicked as the tumblers turned. The chain pulled free. There was no point in pretending now. Lilette shot to her feet. The door opened and promptly fell on whomever was coming through. She tried to shove past but became tangled between the door and a masculine body.

  “Li?”

  She stopped struggling. This wasn’t Bian or one of the other village elders. “Salfe?”

  “I came to set you free.” She heard the grin in his voice.

  “I was doing fine on my own.”

  He glanced at the door hanging crookedly by one set of bindings. “Yes, I can see that.”

  She glared at him. “Quo told him?”

  Salfe’s head dropped before he nodded.

  After grabbing her supplies and slipping Salfe’s comb into her pocket, Lilette crept past him into the moon-bright night. She slid through the shadows toward the back of the village, Salfe following her. “Go home, Salfe. Your father wouldn’t approve.”

  Salfe’s voice went hard. “All the more reason to go through with this.”

  “Through with what?”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  She twisted to look back at him. “No, you’re not.”

  He had to trot to catch up with her. She reached Fa’s grave beneath a manora tree. She knelt in the still loose soil and wiped a tear from her face.

  Salfe rested a hand on her back but she shrugged out from under his touch. “Why are you following me, Salfe? Can’t bear the thought of me as your stepmother?”

  “I swear on the Sun Dragon, I’ll make sure you never marry him.”

  She closed her eyes. No one else seemed to care that Bian was old enough to be her father and already had three wives and dozens of children. For them, he was a deeply respected man, and she was a grieving girl who didn’t appreciate her own good fortune.

  Had Fa known this was coming when he had warned her never to sing? Lilette pushed the rising fury deep into her belly and held it there. “This is where you belong, Salfe. This is where you family is.”

  With Fa dead, there was nothing holding her here. Nothing except her fear of the unknown, which paled in comparison to marrying Bian. She rested her hand on the grave. “Goodbye, Fa. I’m sorry I was too angry to say it before. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

  She rose to her feet and skirted the village, making for the fishing boats. Salfe trailed sullenly behind her. She couldn’t let him leave his home, not for some false hope. He deserved the truth. She slowed down and waited for him to catch up. “Salfe, you have to know, I won’t marry you either. I want nothing to do with men or babies.”

  They’d reached her fishing boat. Lilette moved to set her supplies inside and was surprised to find it already loaded. Tipping back the lid of a basket, she found coconuts filled with water. This hadn’t been a whim for Salfe. He’d planned it. Guilt pricked her for her harsh words. “Salfe . . .”

  “I’m coming with you.” Without the normal glint of mischief in his eyes, his face looked almost haggard.

  She couldn’t exactly stop him. “Fine. Help me push this off.” They braced both their shoulders into the hull and heaved just as shouts rang out from the village.

  Lilette’s head whipped around. Already men were streaming down the path to the water.

  “Hurry!” Salfe cried. “Tie up the sail!”

  She launched herself into the boat and started securing one corner of the square rigging. With a grunt, Salfe dug in his shoulder and heaved. The boat slid into the water. He swung in, spraying sand and water all over Lilette.

  The men sho
uted for them to stop. Salfe bumped her away from the sail. “Sing!”

  It had been eight years—eight years of forcing herself to forget—but she had remembered one song. She opened her mouth and let out the first round. It would take three repetitions to completely turn the element to her will.

  Oh wind, hear my plea,

  From the southeast, blow for me.

  The wind picked up, stirring her hair and lifting the limp sail. The men were at the water’s edge now. They dove in without hesitation and swam toward the boat with sure strokes. Salfe picked up an oar and stood at the stern.

  The strongest swimmer reached their boat. Before he could grasp the gunwale, Salfe whacked him on the head, then did the same to the man coming up behind him.

  Lilette began the second round and the wind gusted, filling the sails. The boat eased forward. But men were already in the other boats, and more were swimming for them. Salfe swung his oar, smashing any hands that gripped the gunwales.

  Halfway through the third round, the boat surged forward. They were past most of the swimmers now, moments from reaching open water. Suddenly a hand snaked out, snatching Lilette’s wrist and jerking her back. Screaming, she braced herself against the sides of the boat and came face to face with Salfe’s brother, Quo, his wiry body half in, half out of the water.

  She pulled back her fist and smashed it into his face, but he shook it off, grabbed her other hand, braced himself against the side of the boat, and heaved.

  “Quo! No!” Salfe shouted behind her.

  Lilette toppled over the side and slammed face first into the water. When she resurfaced, Quo shoved her toward an approaching boat.

  She tried to dive down, but he snatched her arm. She came up with a lungful of water and coughed violently. Within moments, she was surrounded by a handful of Bian’s other sons, all of them herding her away from freedom.

  She met Quo’s eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

  His expression didn’t change. “I honor my father.” He spat in Salfe’s direction. “As my brother should.”

  Salfe stood alone in Lilette’s boat, his face bloodless, the oar held in his clenched hands. He had no chance against so many.

  They hauled her in the boat and deposited her at Bian’s feet. He looked like Salfe—both had large, dark eyes and fine features.

  Lilette lay panting before getting shakily to her feet. She squared her shoulders and looked Bian straight in the eye. “Let me go.”

  His nostrils flared before he slapped her. She gasped in shock and nearly fell, managing to catch herself at the last moment. She took a deep breath to steel herself and straightened, glaring at him. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

  He barked a laugh, and some of the furious sparks in his eyes cooled. “Such passions will make you difficult to handle for the first few years. But a few children in your belly will settle your temper.”

  Deep inside, Lilette began to tremble. “You will never touch me.”

  He grunted. “You don’t know what you want.” His tone softened. “I will be good to you, and you will learn to be an excellent wife. And in return, you will give me daughters with this power of yours.”

  She ground her teeth and shot Quo a look of utter hatred. There was no use arguing with Bian. She would bide her time until another opportunity presented itself. But what about Salfe?

  Closing his eyes, Bian took a deep breath and faced his oldest son. “My son, you have betrayed me.”

  Salfe shifted. “I love her.”

  Lilette stifled a gasp. Salfe had risked so much for her—she would not humiliate him by giving any indication she didn’t love him back. Especially not in front of his father and brothers.

  Bian made a sound low in his throat. “We’ve talked about this.”

  Lilette felt her cool mask slip. Salfe had talked to his father about marrying her? Had he been one of the ones to bid for her? She searched the shadows of her friend’s face and saw the truth. She thought of all the kindnesses Salfe had shown her. When she’d first arrived, he’d defended her when the other children had made fun of her “maggot-white” skin. He had helped her with the words when she’d struggled with the Harshens’ disjointed language. And over the last year, his kindnesses had increased.

  Fa had watched him go one night, rubbing his belly after all the fruits and roasted nuts Salfe had brought. “He’s a good boy,” Fa had said, his voice tinged with sadness. “It’s too bad he will never have what he wants.”

  Lilette had winced, but she hadn’t disagreed. True to her long-ago promise, she’d never let Salfe past the defenses of her heart. And now she was sorry for it. She wanted to reach out to him, apologize, but that would only humiliate him. So she stayed silent.

  “You are choosing your wives out of order,” Bian said. “The brood mare comes first, the jewel last.”

  Lilette had to resist the urge to strangle Bian. I will never be his jewel, she promised herself over and over.

  “I will not give her up,” Salfe said, his voice low and shaking with anger—so unlike the mischievous boy she’d always known.

  Bain’s head dropped and he was silent for a long moment. “Very well. You have betrayed me and shown no signs of remorse. I would have given you all that I have. The legacy I have worked my entire life to build would have been yours. But you denied it all and shoved it back in my face because you wanted the one thing I would not share.”

  “I’m not yours to share!” Lilette shouted and made to jump back in the water. But Quo and his brothers were there, gripping her arms and holding her back. She looked into Bian’s eyes and didn’t see a monster—only a man who thought he was doing what was best for her. And that made him even more dangerous. “Let me go,” she pleaded. “Let me go back to my home.”

  “This is your home,” he said softly, caressing the stinging spot where he’d slapped her earlier. “If only you would see it.” His voice grew louder as he said, “You have left me with no choice, Salfe. I banish you from the island for a period of five years. Perhaps then you will grow into the kind of man who can return to us.”

  Salfe reared back as if he’d been slapped, and Lilette saw wetness gleaming on his cheeks. But he did not beg. He simply pulled up his anchor and dropped it onto the deck. As the boat began to pull away, he hung his head. “I’m sorry, Li.”

  Her hand strayed to her pocket, where she could feel the hard outline of the phoenix comb. She took a deep breath to calm herself. Any damage she could have done by revealing herself as a witch had already been done. Right now, she could use her voice to help a friend. So she sang. Salfe turned to watch the wind fill his sail, then looked back at her. He raised one long arm in goodbye.

  Lilette sang as they rowed her back to shore. Sang as the men filed off back to the village. Sang as Pan came running from her hut, dark accusations in her shining eyes. And all the while, Bian watched her, wonder stark in his gaze.

  Soon, wailing sounded from one of his huts—Salfe’s mother sobbing for the child she’d lost. Bian’s gaze clouded over. He assigned two of his sons to watch Lilette and then trudged up the shore toward the hut.

  Lilette sang for the wind as the world slowly took on its colors, lightening from amethyst-black to lavender-gray to blue as the sun burst over the ocean, blinding her with its brilliance. Only then did her voice taper off into nothing.

  The End

  *Keep reading for bonus content from Amber Argyle’s next book, Witch Fall*

  Acknowledgements

  Every book needs a team. Witch Rising had two. Those who strengthened the story and prose: JoLynne Lyon, Rachel Newswander, Cathy Nielson, Melanie Rainwater, Julie Slezak, and Mark Penny. And those who worked on the design side: Devon Dorrity, Robert Defendi, and Kathy Beutler.

  And as always, thanks to God and my family.

  About the Author

  Amber Argyle grew up with three brothers on a cattle ranch in the Rocky Mountains. She spent hours riding horses, roaming the mountains, and playing in h
er family’s creepy barn. This environment fueled her imagination for writing high fantasy.

  She has worked as a short order cook, janitor, and staff member in a mental institution. All of which have given her great insight into the human condition and have made for some unique characters.

  She received her bachelor’s degree in English and Physical Education from Utah State University.

  She currently resides in Utah with her husband and three small children.

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  Witch Fall

  Chapter 1

  Lilette left the island like she came into it, amid a wave of suffering and death. ~Jolin

  Lilette pointed her hands above her head and leapt off the cliff. Eyes closed, she reveled in the feel of falling. She sliced through the cool water at the base of the waterfall, kicking until she reached the rocky bottom.

  There, she paused. Everything looked different down here. The water caught the sharp sunlight, bending it into slanting shafts of turquoise. The figures of the other girls on the bank were wavering and insubstantial—as if they were mere reflections instead of flesh and blood. It was like looking at the outside world through a mirror. But which side was real, and which was the reflection?

  Lilette wished she didn’t have to go back, that she could stretch this moment beneath the cool water into forever. But her lungs began to ache for air.

  I will escape my fate, she promised herself. It had taken her nearly two weeks to gather enough sleeping herbs to drug Bian’s family. Tonight, two days before her wedding, she would slip the herbs into the evening meal. After everyone was sound asleep, she’d gather her supplies and slip away.