Witch Song

by Amber Argyle

  She turned back to her packed bags and carefully pulled out her most prized possession—a green and gold belt with segregated pockets. Various seeds rested in each pocket—all labeled with genuine gold thread.

  “What’s that?” Joshen asked.

  “My seed belt.” She secured it around her waist. Automatically, her fingers searched the pockets, checking the seeds.

  “Seeds for dueling other Witches and healing and such?”

  She shoved the dagger into its sheath on the belt. “Yes.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then she said the words she’d been aching to since she’d first seen him. “I missed you, Joshen.” She waited, tense, for his answer.

  He grunted. “I missed you, too.” He nodded toward the door. “The men will be ready. We should get going.”

  They walked into the fog. Somehow, it seemed even thicker today, like she was breathing water instead of air. Coughing, Senna watched the sailors hauling in ropes and bustling about. She couldn’t help but wonder how many of them were here because Parknel had paid them to be. There were so few Witch friends. “Will they all come with us into Tarten?”

  Joshen glanced sidelong at her. “Every one of them knows what Espen’s doing to the sea. They’ll help you, Senna.”

  She looked out across the unnaturally still waters. Would they be so willing to help her if they knew she was bound to fail?

  He spotted Captain Parknel. “Wait here.”

  She watched Joshen walk away. He hadn’t become the bulk of a man his father was. Instead, he was tall and sculpted with broad shoulders that tapered to his waist. His hair was shorter, too. She’d already noted the day’s worth of stubble along his jaw. But his eyes remained the same. Gray eyes, the color of snow in the shade and his hair, the color of rich, freshly turned Earth.

  He was a man now.

  In the midst of their conversation, he glanced up and caught her staring. She quickly looked away to hide the blush that crept up her cheeks. He exchanged a few more words with Parknel before coming back to her. “We’re ready to shove off.”

  She studied him sidelong, liking the pale creases around his eyes against his sun-darkened skin. It had done that before and she’d thought it made him look like he never stopped smiling.

  Men stopped pulling in the ropes to watch her walk to the bow. Senna tried to pretend she was back on Haven, standing in the circle. But at the railing, she hesitated, unsure of herself. She turned back to Joshen. He nodded reassuringly. Though he wasn’t as friendly as before, he didn’t seem angry anymore. That alone gave her courage. With a deep breath, she placed her hand on Bruke’s head and faced forward.

  Oh wind, hear my plea,

  From the northeast, blow for me.

  She felt a breeze stirring her hair. She sang again, this time more forcefully. The ship edged forward. On her third song, the sails suddenly popped. The ship surged beneath her. Senna looked deeper into the fog. The wind should have blown their path clear. Instead, it did little more than churn the heavy vapors.

  She pressed her lips together and looked back. Already the docks were swallowed whole.

  Parknel came to her side. Beads of moisture streaked down his temples. “There’s nothing for it, Senna. We can’t sail blind. I’m sorry.”

  She whirled back to the southwest. Something felt wrong. The wind wasn’t responding like it usually did. Closing her eyes, she listened to the things nature had to tell her. And then she felt it. Espen was singing from her circle, countering the wind Senna called and bringing in more fog. She felt Joshen beside her. “Somehow, she can feel my songs. And without the protection of Haven, she’s rendering them useless.”

  Joshen shifted beside her. “One Witch can control something that minute from so far away?”

  Senna pressed her lips together. “She’s not alone. Somehow, she’s using the captured Witches to amplify her songs.”

  Peering into the fog, Parknel scratched his beard. “So Espen wins that simply? Bars us from crossing the sea as if we were fish caught in a net?”

  Senna clenched her teeth. “No. The distance is weakening her song. I can counter. It’ll just be harder.” She called clear air from above. A patch of blue sky appeared. A column of light pierced the waters. Senna sang again. And again. The patch widened. “Will it be enough?” she asked Parknel.

  He studied the space before them with a critical eye. “Not for some captains. But I know these shores the way some men know their fields.” He gave her a curt nod. “I’ll get you through.”

  She cut off the wind from above, redirecting it behind them. The ship sped forward, but within moments, the fog began creeping in like a thief. Normally, the wind would have lasted for hours. But not while she had to continuously redirect it. Still, as long as she sang, the ship surged forward and the way remained clear, but her strength slipped away like water sifting through cupped hands.

  She stopped when Joshen nudged her arm. He held a tray with salted meat, cheese and biscuits. “Lunch,” he said.

  Rubbing her throat, she leaned against the rails. Her head felt light and her limbs shaky. And already, the wind was weaker. With a sigh, she slid down and ate in great, hulking bites as she watched the fog slowly strangling the light she’d worked so hard to procure. He handed her a cup. She swallowed slowly, the tepid water soothing her raw throat.

  “Senna?” He looked around nervously. “I don’t think the others have noticed yet, but the exposed space keeps getting smaller.”

  She cleared her throat and strained to speak, “My voice isn’t as clear or forceful.”

  He picked at his food. “And tomorrow?”

  She shrugged, not willing to think about tomorrow. Brushing her hand on her dress, she took her place at the bow and sang again for the wind to clear their path. But she couldn’t hit the high or low notes anymore. Her voice was raspy. The Four Sisters never responded as well to a poorly sung song.

  Still, she didn’t stop as the sun arched blindly overhead. She didn’t notice her body swaying until she tipped sideways and nearly collapsed. Gripping the rail firmly, she sang harder. Her voice cracked and wavered. She longed for the day to leave her in the cool of night. She thirsted for a cup of hot mint tea with a slice of lemon.

  Was Espen as tired as she? Would she stop soon, or did her strength far exceed Senna’s? She steadied herself. She’d studied and practiced for this war. This fight. There would be no saving strength, no holding back reserves. She’d take herself to the precipice and over the edge.

  Suddenly, she felt the unnatural presence fade away. The Dark Witch had stopped. The ship surged forward and the fog dissipated. The first sprinkling of stars appeared on the horizon. She slumped against the rails. Strong arms gripped her shoulders. She immediately recognized his scent.

  “Senna, you alright?” Joshen’s voice felt as soft as down.

  Not wanting to speak, she nodded.

  “Come on. You need to rest.” He looped her hand through his arm. Her throat was too raw to protest. The other men stopped and cast worried glances her way as he led her toward Parknel’s cabin. Bruke followed them, whining the entire way.

  She found a meal and hot cup of tea waiting for her beside the bed. Exhaling with relief, she kicked off her shoes. Wiggling her toes and rolling her ankles, she sipped. It wasn’t mint. But it was hot and someone had put honey in it.

  Joshen dropped beside her. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, day after day. You’ll be in no shape for fighting her if you do.”

  Senna froze. She carefully set down the cup and tucked her hands under her legs. “Maybe that’s her plan,” the words came out scratchy.

  Joshen leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

  “If Espen truly wanted me to stay away from Tarten, she’d have stuck to her storms. The only reason for this fog is to flush me out of Haven and exhaust my strength so I’m in no condition to fight her.”

  Joshen brushed her hair back from her forehead. “Well then, find another w
ay. I’m not going to stand by and watch you sing yourself into old age.”

  Joshen was right. Another day like today and she’d lose her voice. Then they’d be adrift in the middle of the ocean. Hopelessness and despair as old as her first memory rose inside her. She gritted her teeth. She had another plan. But she didn’t want to face it. Not yet. “I’ll not turn back.”

  “I didn’t say you should,” Joshen said.

  Her gaze narrowed as she studied him. “How else can we cross the sea?” She hoped he had another way, something she hadn’t thought of.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, but continuing like today obviously isn’t an option. We’ll figure it out.”

  She smiled reluctantly, loving that someone cared. That she wasn’t alone. The tension of the revelation faded and her exhaustion returned with full force. Ignoring the food, she finished the tea and then snuggled into the bed as he pulled his blanket over her shoulder. “Joshen?”

  “Mm.”

  “Thanks for not leaving.”

  He paused, looking at her. “Thanks for coming back for me.”

  “Mmhm,” she mumbled.

  Senna and Joshen stood at the bow of the ship, trying to see past the choking vapors as the sailors idly worked pointless jobs. She felt their unease in their frequent, nervous glances. For them, being motionless in the water felt as foreign as an earthquake on land. If only she were stronger. “It’s constantly changing the direction of the wind that’s exhausting me. I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He rubbed his eyes. “Will you stop apologizing?”

  Senna sighed. If singing all day wouldn’t work, that left her with only one option. One she knew Joshen wouldn’t like … she didn’t much like it herself. “You’re right, Joshen.”

  He stopped peering into the fog to gape at her. A slow smile spread across his face. “Course I am!”

  “Espen knows fighting this fog from behind and above will take every last ounce of my strength. I’ll have nothing left to fight her,” she continued. “It’s time to change tactics.”

  His smile faded into suspicion. He followed her as she hurried back to the cabin. “Change tactics how?”

  She sighed. “I’m going to ask for … information.”

  His brows remained creased. “From whom?”

  She laughed. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

  He folded his arms over his rather expansive chest. “I might.”

  He appeared ready to physically restrain her. And Senna knew him very capable and very willing. Trying to act nonchalant, she waved away his concern. “The sea creatures. They can tell me about any snags or dangers.”

  “How can you ask a sea creature anything?”

  “Ioa.” Senna lifted the vial of topaz-colored liquid from her belt and swirled it. “But I need you to send all of the men below decks.”

  Alarm rippled across his features. “Senna?”

  It had been such a long time since anyone had worried about her. She smiled faintly. “It’s safe,” she lied. “But painful and embarrassing.”

  “Painful how?”

  Though it took a tremendous effort, she didn’t flinch. “Like ripping your skin off with a sharpened rock. But it doesn’t last long,” she added quickly. At his adamant look, she threw her hands up in exasperation. “It’s the only way!”

  He scowled at her but finally went to Parknel. The Captain shot Senna a pointed look before giving a curt nod. “Sailors below decks!” he shouted. The men shot each other puzzled glances before obeying.

  “You, too,” she said to Joshen when the last had disappeared.

  He widened his stance. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Senna sighed. “Very well. But turn your back.”

  He reluctantly obeyed. She undid the clasp of her cloak, dropping it to her feet. To the pile, she added her belt, dress and last, her shift.

  Joshen half turned.

  “Don’t look!” she warned.

  His head snapped back around. Warily watching him, she settled her necklace on the top of the pile. Naked, she shivered. She was frightened of the pain. The books said it was worse than childbirth. And that was if the potion was perfectly made. She’d tried for months to make her own concoction. But it never turned out right.

  Eventually, Pogg had taken pity on her and showed her to the Head of Plant’s private collection. The Witch was supposed to be renowned and she had written many of the books Senna had studied. Still, if the potion wasn’t exact, she’d be stuck as some half-creature. And then she’d die.

  Her hands shaking, she stuck her finger in the vial and applied it to her lips. She sang a soft, low song.

  Sea, I have chosen one of thy creatures,

  I ask of thee, change my features.

  As she repeated the song, she felt the potion coming to life. Never pausing, she took some of the oily substance from her lips, dabbed it on her forehead, the depression of her clavicle, the baseline of her ribs and at the bottom of her belly. Then she dragged her finger down, connecting the dots of oil. As she did, she sang it once, twice, three times.

  The oils warmed until they grew unbearable. She dug her nails into her palms. Her song stuttered to a halt. As though connected by an invisible line of fire, the oil seared through her.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, the heat dissipated. Her fingers relaxed. But then her heart sped up. She knew what came next and it was much worse. The book said the first Witch who had tried Ioa thought she was dying.

  The sensation of the cold fog faded. Her flesh rippled. Her bones vibrated. The first twinges of pain exploded in her muscles. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry out, but the pain boiled under her skin. Her first bone broke and reformed. A sob clawed its way up from her lungs. Pitching headfirst into the icy water, she screamed. Even as she writhed, her bones and muscles flamed like a roaring wildfire.

  In slow, steady increments, the pain diminished before finally disappearing. Taking a moment to orient herself, she swam for the surface. She saw Joshen and knew he didn’t understand. She continued to look at him until his eyes widened in comprehension. “Senna?” She nodded her head. He reeled back, his hand on his forehead. “You’re a seal!”

  She turned to swim away and only then did she notice the name etched and then painted on the back of the boat. If she were still human, she’d have smiled. Parknel had named his vessel Sea Witch.

  She dipped into the water, searching for others. She heard them calling each other. Especially the whales, their low whines, moans and clicks articulated their displeasure with Espen’s malicious songs, which approached from the east. She eavesdropped as they discussed the sea’s temperament, landmarks, the Sea Witch and how strange it was that no other boats trolled the waters.

  Satisfied with what she’d learned from the whales, she sought out other creatures. It didn’t take her long to find a sea turtle. As she swam next to him, the urge to play with his floating shell nearly overcame her. Firmly planting her mind on human thoughts, she asked if the turtle knew of any shoals.

  He regarded her with ancient eyes. His slow, flowing answer told her no dangers for boats existed for days.

  “How far to the land of red flags?” she asked.

  He grunted. He didn’t speak with words, but long, slow movements. But Senna’s seal brain was able to translate it. “Long since the Witches have swum with us. You wish our help?”

  Surprised, she stopped swimming. “Yes,” she barked, her lungs begging her to surface and fill them with salt air.

  He nodded, his side flippers turning. “Come again. I shall spread word to those that might help the Keepers.”

  He wheeled and glided away. She glanced up at the gray sky and wondered which sea creatures wouldn’t wish to offer their help. But she wanted to laugh. Let Espen waste her time with her cursed fog. Senna had found another way.

  The urge to be a seal was so overwhelming that, for just a moment, she let her animal impulses take over. At the surface, she filled her lungs deeply and
twirled around, enjoying freedom she’d never experienced on land, for she wasn’t bound to the ground. Up, down, sideways. It was like flying. She shivered and leaped above the waves. She nosed a floating bit of wood, sending it flying. It landed with a splash. Giddy, she charged after it.

  She played with it, taking it down and letting it float back to the surface. Then blasting up beneath it and sending it soaring. She twisted and twirled through the cold water. But then she slowed, trying to make sense of the foreboding creeping over her.

  She stopped abruptly. The water felt cold.

  Fear pierced her. If she changed before she found the ship, she’d die of exposure. Diving, she searched for it. There was nothing but the endless expanse of water. Desperately she swam, her mind alert for any more signs of the change.

  A floating speck caught her attention. Her large eyes widened at how far she’d strayed. In this form, she could move through the water much faster than any human. Putting on a burst of speed, she reached the hulking ship as her fins lengthened.

  “There she is!” Joshen hollered.

  She swam willingly into their nets. They heaved her up as her legs turned from the darkest brown to creamy white. Joshen had a blanket waiting for her as fins completed their change into arms. He wrapped it around her and heaved her into his arms as her fur disappeared and her human form completely returned.

  Senna tucked her head into Joshen’s chest. “Please put me down. I only need a minute.”

  “Stop being so prideful,” Joshen chided. “And let someone help you.” He said it like a challenge.

  Senna clamped her mouth shut. Hurrying through the men, he burst into Parknel’s cabin and set her on the bed. Bruke instantly leaped up next to her and started licking her face. Joshen shooed him away, which bought him a reproachful stare.

  Her wet hair clinging to her back, she lay still, concentrating on breathing.

  “You turned yourself into a seal!”