Witch Born (25 page)

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.

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.”

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 foreboding. “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.