by Amber Argyle
May the Creators protect us.
The note wasn’t signed.
Senna opened her fingers, letting it drift down to decay with everything else. The Creators wouldn’t be protecting anyone. They’d given mankind the Witches. If mankind rejected that gift, the Creators wouldn’t believe them worth saving.
“Our old horses are alive.” Joshen met her gaze, and she knew they were sharing the same memory. All those months ago, when Senna had arrived at Joshen’s horse ranch with the Witch Hunters on her heels. He’d sold her the first horse she’d ever owned—Knight. And then he’d followed her across two continents and an ocean to confront the Witch who had defeated all others.
He was still following her.
Senna gave him a small smile. Holding onto those bright memories in this wasted land, she swung onto Sunny’s back.
Mistin and Cord galloped out. She wanted to shout for them to stay—she wasn’t ready to go yet. But they couldn’t linger.
“Come on, Senna,” Joshen said. “Any Tarten within a league and a half heard that song. Let’s go.”
Sunny pranced beneath her. He was an obstinate horse, always looking for ways to outsmart his rider. It made her miss the careful mount Knight had been. She released the tension on the reins. Sunny’s muscles bunched beneath her as he galloped after the others.
Reden turned back to make sure they were coming. She didn’t meet his gaze again. She didn’t think she could.
When they reached the road running parallel to the ocean, Senna saw a dark smudge of clouds in the distance. The rains were finally coming.
“This road will be a mud trap if we don’t beat that storm,” Reden warned them.
Senna was so focused on the storm coming over the ocean that she nearly fell off when Sunny slid to a stop. Fortunately, horsemanship was another skill she’d improved on.
Reden had pulled up short. Cord and Mistin were pounding back to them. “Soldiers!”
Eating up the distance behind them were at least a dozen red-coated Tartens.
Joshen’s horse bumped into Senna’s. He cursed.
“They’re between us and our ship.” Reden seemed to take the fact as a personal insult.
Senna reached inside her seed belt.
Reden backed his sorrel into Sunny. “No, Senna. We have to run.”
She looked at him incredulously. “There aren’t that many of them. I can keep them at bay.”
Reden pulled his musket from its holster. “The only reason they haven’t opened fire yet is because they want to keep us from the ship—”
“Until their reinforcements come,” Joshen finished for him.
“Back inland,” Mistin cried as she reached them. “They’ll follow us around the mountain and be forced behind us.” She turned her horse and didn’t look back to see if they followed.
“It’s a good plan,” Cord said as he chased after Mistin.
Joshen set his jaw. “Their horses are fresh. Ours are nearly done in!”
“You have something better in mind?” Reden asked. When Joshen didn’t answer, Reden took off after Cord.
After a moment’s hesitation, Senna followed them. And of course, Joshen followed her.
22. Shattered
Two months ago, this stretch of jungle would have been impassable. But now most everything crumbled to dust or shattered like glass when their horses’ hooves touched it. Senna wanted to fall behind, work some seeds into the ground, but she had to concentrate on not being swept from the saddle by dead tree limbs.
She heard the soldiers crashing behind them, coming closer with each of her wearied horse’s faltering strides.
She had to do something! She snatched one of the potion vials she’d stolen from Prenny’s secret cupboard and tossed the contents into the air.
Senna knew the moment the Tarten soldiers passed through the powder. Hacking coughs of men and horses erupted behind them. It might buy a little time.
“Senna!” Joshen shouted.
She whipped around to see a low branch right in front of her. She flattened herself across Sunny’s mane. The branch raked across her back. She gasped in pain.
Finally, they rounded the mountain and started back towards the sea. Sunny plunged into the slimy remnants of a stream that stank of dead fish. They followed the riverbed all the way to the sea and climbed the banks. Sunny floundered in the sand, sinking up to his forelegs. The ocean must be close.
As soon as they reached the beach, Senna took Kine seeds from her belt. Standing in the stirrups, she tossed them skyward and sang the wind to fan them out behind her. Then her song changed into something dark and dangerous.
Kine with biting leaves,
Flesh and blood and bone to seize.
Trusting Sunny to follow the others, she looked over her shoulder as leaves like razors sprouted along the seashore—the plants were a cross between coral and cactus. She sang until she was out of range, then pulled her horse to a stop. Sunny fought her—he didn’t like being left by the others. Keeping a firm hold on the reins, Senna jumped from the saddle.
Unable to slow his horse fast enough, Joshen shot past her. “Senna, you can’t stop!”
She frantically dug in the sand and shoved the barrier seed into the ground. The soldiers were pounding up the shore behind them. Joshen didn’t know they’d hit her Kine shortly, and she didn’t have time to inform him. She started singing again.
Oh barrier tree, I sing to thee.
Stop the men who come for me.
Rounding back to her, Joshen leapt from the saddle. He grabbed her arms from behind and steered her towards Sunny. She didn’t stop singing. The seed was a full-blown sapling now. Joshen had just managed to shove her foot into the stirrup when the screams started.
But it wasn’t the Tarten soldiers screaming. It was their horses. The momentum of the chase had carried the six or so remaining soldiers into the midst of the Kine before the horses had stumbled to a stop. The soldiers were trying to force the horses out. Some were obeying, frantically scrambling, blood running down their forelegs, their hooves shredded. Others were frozen in place, their whole bodies quivering with pain and fear.
Their screams were almost worse than men’s screams. The animals were innocent. And Senna was ruining them.
Joshen let out a cry of protest. It took every ounce of determination Senna had to keep singing. As the shade of the barrier tree slowly grew over them, they witnessed the chaos she’d created.
One of the Tartens shouted orders. Abandoning the horses, the soldiers moved carefully around the Kine. To escape, they’d have to skirt into the jungle. And when they came out, the barrier tree would await them.
Senna had bought herself and her friends enough time to load into the boats without being under fire from the Tartens.
The tree was full grown. Senna stopped fighting Joshen and let herself be hauled into the saddle. They took off down the shore. A little bit farther and they found the Sea Witch anchored in a cove.
Captain Parknel’s waiting sailors took the horses, blindfolded them, and started fighting them into one of the five boats—one for each of the horses—and a smaller, faster vessel for Senna and two of her Guardians. A handful of Barbus seeds in her hand, Senna started off to create a perimeter of plants around them.
She heard running footsteps from behind. Joshen snatched her hand and dragged her towards the boats. “Joshen, I can plant the Barbus! It’ll keep the sailors safe.”
“No time! They’ll be around the first barrier tree before you can even get the seeds in the ground.” He picked her up and swung her into the boat.
“Reden!” she cried.
He took up a position beside the boat. The other sailors spread out around him. “We’re almost off anyway.”
He was right. Mistin’s group was already rowing for the Sea Witch. Two others weren’t far behind. That only left two boats on shore—Senna’s and the craft meant to carry Sunny. The sailors were struggling to get him inside. All four of his
feet were stubbornly planted, as he refused to get in the boat. Two men linked arms behind his rump, while two more lifted a front leg over the sides.
Joshen grunted. “If the two of you hadn’t been so stubborn, we’d be off already.”
She ignored him. They were going to make it. That’s what mattered.
Sailors shoved Senna’s craft towards the ocean. The gritty sand scratched the bottom before they dropped in the water. They drifted while the sailors jumped in and pulled out their oars.
Senna startled at the sound of musket fire. Like blood pulsing from an open wound, dozens of soldiers on horseback broke from the dead jungle. Senna didn’t have time to wonder where they’d come from. Balls whistled through the air and hit their boat with a thunk. She ducked as splinters exploded around her. Water poured through the holes.
Soldiers splashed into the water. The sailors and her Guardians aimed their muskets and fired.
Senna had potions and songs, but they would hurt her friends as much as her enemy. She moved before fear could change her mind, grabbing one of the heavy muskets. She swung it up and aimed for a soldier looming over them. But a cry made her look past him.
Soldiers had swarmed Cord’s vessel. A soldier lifted his knife to draw it across Cord’s neck. Holding her breath, Senna adjusted her aim and squeezed the trigger gently. The musket bucked in her hands, throwing her back.
The soldier fighting Cord staggered backward before falling into the water and sinking. Cord gaped at Senna for a split second before leaping into the boat.
There wasn’t time to process what she’d done. Soldiers were all around them. The sailors fought them off with bayonets. Senna reached for her ball and powder.
From behind, hands snatched her, hauling her away from the boat. Joshen shouted and thrust his bayonet up, but the soldier was already out of reach.
Reden grabbed her legs and braced his feet against the boat.
Stretching forward, Senna grabbed one of the pistols from Reden’s holster, aimed it blindly at the man behind her, and fired. Suddenly she was free, and Reden dragged her back into the boat.
Muskets fired and one of the Tartens fell from his horse. Still in Reden’s arms, Senna saw Mistin standing steady, a musket in her hands, blue smoke dissipating in the rising wind
The other boats started firing on the Tartens. A moment later, the sailors with her opened fire. A handful of sailors abandoned the fight to start rowing. Though their boat was rapidly filling with water, they finally made it out of range.
Shaking, Senna grabbed another pistol. While loading it, she checked Cord’s boat. They were rowing for the Sea Witch. The Tarten soldiers were firing their muskets, but they were too far away to do much good.
They were safe.
The gun slipped from her fingers and fell with a splash into the water rapidly filling the bottom of the boat.
“Senna—” Joshen began.
“Just row!” She shook so badly she could barely stay upright. Three men in the boat were wounded. Her mind numb, she started tending to them.
It started to rain. The water seeped through her hair before dripping down her face.
One of the men was bleeding out. She pressed a cloth to the wound in his side, but the blood soaked through it. His eyes locked with hers before slowly going unfocused.
Their boat bumped into something. Senna looked up to find herself in the Sea Witch’s shadow. Dark clouds had finally reached shore. Sailors attached ropes to the boat and began pulling it up.
She felt a hand on her arm, easing her to her feet. “I’m sorry, Senna.” Joshen helped her onto the deck of the Sea Witch. He wet a cloth and gently wiped her face. “There was nothing you could have done.”
She shook her head. She’d been in battles before, but never this brutal, where she’d had to kill a man point blank, where another man had died in her arms.
By this time, most of the other boats had reached the ship. The sailors had managed to load Sunny, his legs splayed skyward. The remaining crew had already loaded the stern cannon and aimed it for the Tarten soldiers, who were staring up at the sky as the rain ran down their faces.
Four sailors were dead. A dozen more were injured. In one of the officer’s cabins, Senna treated them with her plants. They thanked her almost reverently. She had to turn away so they wouldn’t see the frustration on her face. They had risked dying just to save that stupid horse. Joshen caught her gaze and chided her with a look. She turned back to the men and thanked them profusely for saving Sunny.
She turned to disappear into her cabin, but Cord blocked her way. “Can you help me with this?”
She cringed at the sight of blood spilling from his collarbone down his open shirt. She gestured for him to follow her inside. “Lie down.”
He was lucky. If the knife had gone much higher, his throat would have been slit. After giving him some whiskey, Senna washed the wound with salt water and numbed it with some herbs before sewing it as neatly as she could. More herbs for swelling, heat, and infection. Then she covered the wound with clean bandages.
She was proud of herself for not even hesitating on the first stitch; she was getting better at treating injured men. She mixed some tea to speed their healing. While it heated she took a blanket and dried her hair with it.
Cord watched her in silence. “You saved my life.”
She shrugged, then set down the blanket and checked the tea. “Your cut wasn’t that deep.”
He chuckled then winced, his hand straying to his wound. “Not for patching me up. When you killed that soldier.”
The porcelain lid Senna was holding slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor. She stared at the pieces, knowing she could never put them back together. A sob burst from deep inside her. She clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle it. She would not cry. She was done with tears.
“He would have killed me. Still managed to cut me good as he fell.” Cord stared at the wall. “Killing a man, it changes you inside.”
She saw everything in perfect detail. The man slowly falling into the surf. The smell of gun smoke. The soldier that tried to take her…she could feel the bruises forming where he’d gripped her.
Cord shook his head, his dark hair brushing his shoulders. “Some of them stand out more than others.”
Senna was glad he wasn’t trying to pretend like it was all right.
Cord turned to her, and as he watched her the burning intensity in his eyes surprised her. “Don’t look into their eyes,” he said. “Don’t watch them die. Don’t think about them at all. You understand?”
She met his gaze. “It hurts,” she said pleadingly.
“It’s supposed to. But the less you have to remember, the less those memories will torment you later.”
She tucked her hair behind her ears and nodded.
“You’ll be all right. Witches might be more subtle than a soldier with a musket, but they’re just as deadly.”
She watched the storm, water crashing against water. Chaos, and yet order at the same time.
Reden came through the open door. He cringed as he sat in one of the chairs, a haunted expression on his face. “Stop blaming yourself, Senna. In a war, people die.”
“Am I really that transparent?” she wondered aloud.
He took the same blanket she’d used on her hair and dried his face. “Not to everybody.”
Cord laughed. “Just to her Guardians.”
Joshen chose that moment to come in. “You’re not her Guardian.” His gaze met Senna’s. “I need your help with one of the horses. Bring your herbs.” He turned and hurried back the way he’d come.
She hustled after him. When they reached the horses, Joshen took one of Sunny’s hooves between his knees and looked up at her.
“He bruised his frog.”
Senna frowned. “His what?”
Joshen let the horse’s leg down. “The inside of his hoof, the soft part.”
“Can he still be ridden?”
“We
don’t have much of a choice, do we?” Joshen pursed his lips, clearly unhappy about it.
Senna watched him, knowing how much it hurt him to push his horses so hard, and that this wasn’t the first time he’d been forced to risk them for her.
“Can you make a poultice for him?” Joshen asked. “Something to draw out the pain and swelling?”
“Of course.”
“Bring it to me when you’re done?”
She nodded.
Joshen grunted and moved away from the horses—away from her. “I need to refill my musket powder and balls. I’ll be back.”
She watched him walk away. “You’re angry.”
Partway up the stairs, he paused. “Yes. But not with you. That was too close.” He ran his hands through his hair. “You don’t know what it’s like, knowing danger is coming for you. And I have to stand between you and that danger, not knowing if I’m strong enough to keep you safe.”
It was hard to watch him leave, but she couldn’t think of anything to say that would make it better. Back in her cabin, she created a poultice for Sunny before turning to the one thing that would ease the ache inside her. Drawing her cloak against the rain, she went to the bow and sang a wind to life.
They rounded a shoulder of land and passed numerous islands. She caught her first sight of people. Even at this distance, she saw their want as they slogged through the wet sand.
A few more hours, and she recognized the bay around Tarten’s capitol, Carpel. There was nothing left of the city but the bones of a few buildings sticking out of the earth like an exposed graveyard. It made her heartsick.
23. Dark Witch
In the gray light of predawn, Senna studied the city of Zaen as the ship sailed into the bay. Memories rose within her, memories that made her pull her cloak close though it was already turning warm.
Joshen squinted at the abandoned city. “We should wait until we can scout it out.”
Time grew short, Senna felt it like an itch under her skin. Even though the Witches in Haven had turned their backs on her, she wouldn’t do the same to them. “We should go. Now.”