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Witch Born

Page 20

by Amber Argyle


  His arms crossed over his chest, Reden studied the landscape. “They’ll send ships after us. We might be better off getting in and out before they catch up.”

  Captain Parknel puffed on his pipe. “And if they find us in this bay, they’ll block us in.”

  Cord glanced at the sky. “I vote we scout it out.”

  “You can’t hear what I hear, feel what I feel.” Senna closed her eyes and attuned herself to the Four Sisters. “It’s like my body is a harp, and the Four Sisters are plucking my strings. The song they’re playing is one of fear and desperation. Already, it might be too late to save Haven.”

  “We can’t help them if we’re dead.” Joshen reached for her hand. She took it wordlessly.

  Reden was silent a moment more before he said, “Captain, if you’ll send some sailors out to secure the landing. Mistin and Cord, you’ll start scouting immediately.”

  Parknel’s teeth ground against his pipe. “All right, let’s bring her into port.” He started up to the wheel. “All hands man the riggin’! Muskets and cannons at the ready! Keep a sharp eye out, boys!”

  Sailors scrambled to tie off the ropes as they docked. The horses were brought up and led down the gangplank. Senna heard the rush of hoofbeats on the wooden planking as Mistin and Cord led their horses into the city. The Witch and the Guardian were armed with as many weapons and shot as they could carry. Led by Reden, sailors spread out to check the area.

  Her every muscle tense, Senna waited with Joshen. He cleared his throat. “I want you to know that I’m done fighting this.”

  She studied his profile, the bulging muscles in his jaw. “This has been hard for me,” he went on. “So much harder and asking so much more than I was willing to give. But I understand now. In fighting for you, I was fighting against you. I’m pushing…” He broke off and cleared his throat. “I’m pushing you away. The very thing I’m afraid of is the thing I’m forcing you towards. I won’t do that anymore.”

  Her voice thick, Senna whispered, “Thank you.”

  He nodded once. His fingers brushed her collarbone as he picked up the ring she wore next to her pendant. “We’re not in Haven anymore. You could wear it.”

  The warmth of his touch spread through her. “Yes, I can.”

  A question in his eyes, he reached to undo the cord. Pulling her hair over her shoulder, she turned around. He slid the ring free and held it out to her. She slipped it on her finger.

  He smiled that smile that sent her insides soaring—the smile where the skin around his eyes and above his brow wrinkled. The one she’d waited so long to see. Leaning forward, she rested in his embrace.

  She realized home wasn’t a place. It was here, safe in his arms. As long as she had this, everything would be all right.

  Far too soon, a sailor stood at the end of the pier and gave the signal for the all-clear.

  Captain Parknel walked beside Senna down the gangplank. “You sure you don’t want the rest of us to come?”

  She shook her head. “You don’t have horses. We’ll move faster without you.” She squinted up at him. “You’ll be all right waiting here?”

  He tapped the side of his nose. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve. I haven’t made it this long as a captain for nothing.”

  Feeling eyes on her, Senna turned to find the crew watching her. Parknel nodded a solemn goodbye as he turned back to his ship. A knot of anxiety hardened in her stomach. “We’ll be back before they know we’re here,” she called to him.

  He nodded, but she got the feeling he didn’t quite believe her.

  She and Joshen trotted down the pier, towards Reden and the horses.

  By the time their group finally reached the stone streets, Cord was waiting for them. “Mistin has scouted out a half league ahead, just like last time,” he said. “She’ll relay to me, and I to her. That way we can cover twice the distance. If you hear gunshots, you’ll know there’s trouble.”

  Regretting her breakfast of travel bread and salt pork, Senna swallowed several times. “And if there’s trouble? What are we going to do?”

  “We get out,” Reden said.

  Circumventing the city wall, they bypassed homes built on the rounded mountain. Even though it had only been a few months since the curse, hovels were already falling in on themselves. Sunny limped slightly, especially when they traversed rocky ground.

  The small group crossed into forest bleached white by the unrelenting sun. Suddenly, Sunny shied. Senna held tight to the reins as he reared, his eyes rolling in fright. She gripped his mane so hard her fingers ached. Reden leveled his musket at something behind her. Smoke and burning powder shot from the barrel.

  An inhuman scream split the night. Joshen swore.

  Sunny bolted, his body bunching and then lengthening beneath her. It took all Senna’s skill to pull him to a halt. Still he fought, shaking his head like a fish fighting to be free of a line. She looked back at the others. A great black jaguar staggered from the trees, a yowl passing its lips. Hip bones pushed sharply against its dull coat. Its chest was bloody, but still it came on.

  Joshen lowered his musket and fired. The cat fell soundlessly. It seemed smaller just lying there—pitiful, even. How desperate must it have been for food to come after them?

  “Anyone within a league heard those shots,” Reden growled, as the men reloaded swiftly.

  Senna watched the dark shape of the cat until it was out of sight.

  Not long after, Cord came galloping back. When he learned the shots were for a jaguar, he grunted. “I’ll let Mistin know not to worry. Not much farther now.”

  They passed through two great mountains as morning gave way to midday. They caught up with Cord and Mistin at the Tangles Trees—a nearly impenetrable barrier of bush-like trees that surrounded Espen’s domain. They were mostly dead now, so Senna’s song couldn’t help them past it. Instead, they had to hack their way through. Senna was covered in welts and scrapes by the time they emerged into the sunlight.

  Not long after that, they entered a clearing now devoid of trees. Reden, Cord, and Mistin spread out to check the area. The air was thick and heavy to breathe—another storm was coming; Senna could taste it. When she caught sight of Espen’s tree, dread filled her all the way to her fingertips.

  Joshen reached over and took her hand. Their eyes met and wordless understanding passed between them. They’d both faced death here.

  After dismounting, Senna led her horse forward. Side by side, she and Joshen walked through the clearing and came to stand before the great tree.

  It was worse than her last dream. Flakes of bark had fallen off, leaving bald spots. Most of the leaves were gone now. Those that did remain had rusty edges and crusty boils across their surface.

  Senna found the bare patch of ground—the same one Espen had written in before—and waited. But the branches trailed listlessly in the wind, and silence filled the air. Were they too late?

  “Espen?”

  The tree shifted sluggishly before straightening. Leaves fell like scales shed from a lizard as Espen reached forward to scratch in the dirt, “Too late.”

  Senna clenched her fists to her side. “Too late for what? Stop your foolish games and tell me!”

  Espen brushed it smooth again. “Too late save Haven. Calden comes.”

  All blood drained from Senna’s face and pooled in her feet. She steadied herself against Joshen. “Calden? But they were destroyed when the Haven Witches fought them. Surely only a few survived.”

  The branch Espen wrote with snapped. She continued with the broken tip as if she hadn’t noticed or didn’t care. “Calden not destroyed.”

  How could this be? All anyone had found were a few pollywogs where Calden had been. “What do you mean?”

  “Haven not only island that moves.”

  Calden was an island? “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  “You know.”

  Senna did know. The Four Sisters were singing their song, and it was one of fo
reboding. “When?” she asked.

  “Soon.”

  If the entire island of Calden had survived, how many thousands of Witches must there be centuries later? Senna shook down to her bones. “Where are they?”

  “Place of storms,” Espen wrote in the dirt.

  What did that mean? Senna’s hand found Joshen’s. “And what’s happening to me? Why is it I’m nearly as strong as a full choir?”

  Espen’s branches quivered, and Senna realized the Dark Witch was laughing. “Don’t realize” Espen wrote.

  Senna clenched her teeth. “What? What don’t I realize?”

  “Lilette—” The branch clawed a slash into the ground before going limp.

  The last of the leaves fell gently to the ground. “Espen?” There was no answer. Senna took a step forward, grasped the branch and listened for music, but there was only silence.

  The Dark Witch was dead, and Senna hadn’t even had to kill her. She wiped the blight off her hand.

  “Senna?”

  She whirled around to see a hunched-over old woman coming past Reden. Joshen started to raise his musket.

  “Still afraid of old Desni, I see.”

  Senna stumbled forward with a cry. “You’re alive.”

  She reached out and took hold of Senna. “You should not have come.”

  “The others—Kaen, Ciara—are they all right?”

  Desni nodded. “They’re traveling along the coast until they leave the cursed lands.”

  All the breath went out of Senna. “But then why are you still here?”

  The woman pulled her back the way she’d come. Joshen marched beside her, his eyes alert.

  “I’m old and I’m tired,” Desni said. “I don’t want to fight anymore. I came back to my forest—to the hill my home still sits upon. When I saw the ships full of soldiers coming from the north and heard gunshots coming from this evil place, I knew it had to be you.”

  Ships full of soldiers? That had to be Tartens, and Parknel was in the bay. By the Creators, were they already too late?

  Reden barked out orders. “Mistin, ride ahead. See if the ship is under attack. If not, find some way to warn them. If it is, ride back to us.”

  As Mistin rode away, Senna gripped the old woman’s hands, so fragile they felt like bird bones. Her heart was thumping in her chest, but she couldn’t go without telling Desni the truth. “Your daughter, Tiena—she died.”

  Something in Desni crumbled before Senna’s eyes, a stark contrast to the old woman’s joy of being reunited with her daughter after Espen’s dark songs had forced them apart for decades. “How?”

  Senna tried to block out the pain. “She was shot during our escape from Tarten. We buried her at sea.”

  Desni closed her eyes. “So even the comfort of visiting her grave is denied me.”

  Joshen leaned low and spoke in Senna’s ear. “We have to go.”

  Desni pushed her towards where Reden held their horses. “Get her out of here. They’re hunting her.”

  Senna swung into the saddle. “Come with us.”

  The old woman’s smile was full of sadness. “No. I will stay to welcome the end.”

  Reden pushed his horse into Senna’s, forcing her back the way they’d come. “How many, how soon?”

  “Run,” Desni said quietly. “Swift as water runs from the sky.”

  They turned the horses eastward, Reden in the lead, Joshen bringing up the rear. Their horses were already exhausted, but they pushed them harder. Sweaty foam had built up around Sunny’s saddle blanket. His limp was worse. They only had to maneuver around one more mountain before they descended into Zaen.

  So close, but the beat of the Four Sister’s music pounded out a savage beat. “We’re not going to make it.”

  Though Senna whispered, Joshen heard her. He slapped his horse’s rump with the ends of his reins and rode up beside her. “What? What can you feel?”

  She turned her fearful eyes on him. “Something bad.”

  Sunny turned his head back. His nostrils were flared so wide Senna saw the red deep inside. Every vein on his face stood out.

  “We have to stop. The horses are no good to us dead,” Joshen shouted to Reden.

  Reluctantly, Reden eased his horse to a stop and dismounted. “We run beside them.”

  They jogged on until the heat wrung sweat from Senna’s skin.

  Cord came galloping back. “We’re too late! The way back to the ship is blocked.”

  “Where’s Mistin?” She should have seen them first and come back to warn them. She should be with Cord.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  By the Creators, Senna had insisted they continue. She steadied herself against Sunny’s sweaty shoulder. Pushing her worry aside, she focused on the task at hand.

  The mountain obstructed most of Senna’s view of the ocean. She started to cross the distance. Over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, she heard the distant boom of cannon fire.

  “Senna—” Joshen reached for her. She glanced back at him, and something in her eyes made him drop his hand. “We can’t help them.”

  She grunted. “You forget. You have a Creator-touched with you. I can help them.”

  Joshen and Reden exchanged glances.

  “Are you sure?” Reden asked.

  She nodded.

  “No! Tartens have no mercy for Witches—especially this Witch!” Cord said as he pointed at her. “We have to get her as far away from here as possible. Now!”

  Joshen snorted. “Have you ever tried making her do something she doesn’t want to? I wouldn’t recommend it.” He smiled sadly at Senna. “We can try. If you promise to follow Reden’s orders.”

  She nodded eagerly. “I promise.”

  Cord cursed them under his breath.

  Senna climbed back into the saddle and urged Sunny around the mountain. Their view of the sea opened up. Two ships hemmed the Sea Witch in. Senna jumped as cannons fired from both ships.

  Before her disbelieving eyes, the Sea Witch turned into the wind. But that was impossible. Sailing ships couldn’t move against the wind. “What—”

  Reden pointed to the shore. “They’ve mounted pulleys to the sides of the ship and anchored them to the shore. They use the ropes to pull them at the angles they need to fire at the other ship.”

  Senna watched as the Sea Witch fired at one of the other ships before pulling hard to the side and firing at the other.

  “Parknel does have some tricks up his sleeve.” She felt a strange sort of pride in the red-haired captain. It was amazing to watch, but she was distracted from the spectacle by red-orange bursts of musket fire on shore. Sailors had dug in around the pulleys and were defending them from Tarten soldiers.

  “Come on.” Senna kicked Sunny. He lunged before twisting around. Why wasn’t he moving? Then she saw Joshen’s hand clamped on the bit. “No closer.”

  She kicked her horse. The animal spun in a circle, clearly confused and frightened.

  Reden snatched the other side of the bridle. They hemmed her in like the ships below hemmed in the Sea Witch. “We’re outnumbered a dozen to one. You go down there and they’ll capture you.”

  She opened her mouth to argue. Didn’t they understand she needed to be closer than this for the sea to hear her song? But then she remembered her promise to listen to her Guardians.

  She would just have to do the best she could and hope her song was strong enough to save them. After kicking her foot out of the stirrup, she dropped from the saddle. “No sign of Mistin? She could help with this.”

  Cord ground his teeth. “I already told you, I don’t know.”

  Part of Senna realized how Desni must have felt. If this was the end, then she would see it through to the last. Senna hiked up the mountain and climbed onto a rocky outcropping. “This will take an incredible amount of control. You can’t break my concentration.”

  Cord, Joshen, and Reden were already stocking the ground with muskets and powder horns. F
ollowing their lead, Senna loaded the pistol Joshen had given her and stowed it carefully so as not to spill the powder.

  Reden settled in, his eyes scanning the dead jungle for signs of their enemy. “If I give the word, you get back on your horse and run for it. You have to agree to this.”

  Senna nodded.

  Joshen bit off the cork on his horn and filled his frizzen with powder. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  Senna spread her arms, listening to the Four Sisters’ sluggish songs. She hummed, changing the threads of music. The Four Sisters grew stronger as her song did. She didn’t call for the wind to lift her—she didn’t want to be that obvious of a target.

  Instead, she sang for two enormous waves to rise up on both sides of the Sea Witch. The Tarten ships slid away from her friends. She changed her song to the winds. Their sails filled, pulling them away. Men scrambled up the rigging, tying up the sails, but not before Senna had managed to move them out of the line of fire of the Sea Witch.

  With a pang, she realized it wasn’t enough. The ships were already moving back to reengage the Sea Witch. And in the distance, more ships rounded the shoulders of the bay.

  The Sea Witch was safe, at least for the moment. Senna turned her attention to the men fighting on the shore. She had the wind channel a song towards them, warning them to be prepared to flee for the ship.

  Focusing on a cluster of men wearing red uniforms, she listened to earth song. Using every ounce of her concentration, she manipulated the song, building up a pocket of energy directly below them. The energy naturally wanted to dissipate, ripple outward. She held it tight, keeping it packed. When she couldn’t hold it another moment, she stopped singing. Men and earth flew everywhere.

  The sailors abandoned the ropes, scrambling into boats on the shore. They fought their way free and rowed for their lives. Senna kept the soldiers and the ships out of range until they were climbing the rungs.

  She started singing again, bending the music until it matched her. She channeled a strong gust of wind at the Sea Witch. It shot between the other two ships, gaining speed by the second.

  She was so far away, she couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw a man at the stern. And somehow, she knew it was Parknel. They both knew that by moving him to safety, she was cutting off her line of retreat. But if he was any kind of fighter at all, he’d realize their escape had already been cut off by the soldiers on shore and the other Tarten ships.

 

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