Witch Born (16 page)

Senna woke to the sound of someone pounding on the front door; its echoes vibrated painfully inside her skull. Squinting, she peered out the window. It was bright daylight outside. How long had she slept?

After moving the chair that was propped under the bedroom door, she eased into the hallway and padded to the top of the stairs.

“What do you mean she’s here?” Joshen’s voice was angry.

“She was attacked. If I hadn’t stopped them, they’d have taken her by now.”

“What!”

“Keep your voice down,” Reden hissed. “She’s all right.”

Senna lay at the top of the stairs and peered below.

“You have to let me see her!” Joshen pulled his hand through his dark hair. “Please, Reden. We had a misunderstanding. Let me talk to her.”

Reden physically blocked him. “No. She’s fine. I just checked on her a moment ago. She needs her rest.”

“Fine, I won’t wake her. I’ll just see for myself.” Joshen tried to slip past him.

Reden matched him. “What kind of misunderstanding?”

Joshen blew out. “Things have become…complicated lately. If we could just talk like we used to.”

Reden shook his head. “She’s sleeping off a concussion. That’s more important than you saying hello.”

Joshen worked his jaw before nodding slowly. “I have to give my report to the Heads. You’ll tell her I stopped by? Send someone to tell me she’s awake?”

Reden nodded. “If she wants to see you.”

Joshen’s face fell.

Senna considered calling out to him, but she was still so tired. Silently, she backed into her room. She fell on her bed, grateful classes were cancelled the week of the chesli harvest, and went back to sleep. She awoke the second time to a hollow ache in her middle and her head pounding in rhythm to her heart. She could feel the sticky heat of midafternoon.

Not sure if she’d have time to visit the bathing pools, she did the best she could with a water basin and a wet rag. Finished, she tugged her tangled hair into a messy braid to hide the lump on the back of her head.

When she came downstairs, Reden was in the kitchen. He handed her an orange and a cup of tea. She breathed in the aroma, easily recognizing the herbs that would help with pain and swelling. After adding enough milk to make the tea lukewarm, she gulped it down.

“Joshen was looking for you earlier.”

Senna poured herself another cup of tea and rolled the orange around in her hands. “I heard.”

Reden nodded once, clearly uncomfortable. “He knows you were attacked last night—it’ll bring him around to getting you out.”

She hesitated. “Well, I suppose if we don’t tell him the rest—about Tarten—until after we leave.” She felt suddenly lighter. Joshen would be coming with them. She wouldn’t have to leave everyone behind. “Maybe the Heads will think Joshen and I just eloped. Then they won’t be watching for me to subvert their curse.”

“If you were going to elope, why would I come along?”

She sighed. “If they guess the truth—which they probably will—they’ll try to stop me, even from a distance.”

“Will they succeed?”

She shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. It depends on how much of the curse I can heal.” She waited for Reden to demand that she explain exactly what she could do. When he didn’t, her voice dropped to a whisper. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

“You’ll do the best you can. Nothing I do or say will change that.”

Senna peeled away the rind and lifted a section of the orange to her mouth. She almost felt like smiling. This time tomorrow, she would be fighting back instead of bumbling about waiting for someone to take another shot at abducting her. “I’ll gather the supplies I need and wrap up my unfinished business. Then we can go.”

A Guardian she vaguely recognized was waiting for her outside. He nodded by way of greeting. “Brusenna.”

Reden touched her arm. “This is Hesten. He’s one of the few in your personal detail. I trust him with this. Our muskets are primed. I’ll go on ahead. Hesten will bring up the rear. I already checked your pistol, and your knife is within reach.”

Feeling her stomach twisting around her breakfast, Senna nodded. “I have my seeds as well.”

“Whichever weapon you need.” Reden searched the trees with his eyes. “You’re as safe as I can make you while you’re here. But be careful.”

She left with the smell of oranges on her fingers and a slice of rich, nutty bread that she no longer had the stomach for.

Her mother opened the door with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Judging by the dark circles under her eyes, she’d been up most of the night. She eyed the Guardians behind Senna suspiciously. “Where have you been?”

Instead of answering, Senna stepped inside and closed the door to her Guardians. “I want the truth. What happened to my father and sister?”

Her mother blanched. She wandered to her chair and sat on the edge. “A Guardian found me last night and told me you were safe but not coming home. Does this have something to do with Joshen?”

No. Joshen is gone. All we seem to do is fight, and I don’t know how to fix it.
“They died when you were pregnant with me. I’ve seen the drawings of them in your money box. That’s all I know of them.”

Like the sun and moon, their conversations circled around each other without ever touching. “You won’t leave this cursed island with me, and yet you’d risk everything you gain by staying—your Apprenticeship, your place in Haven, your
shining
future—all for a boy. What are you doing, Senna?”

I may have already lost him.
Refusing to be distracted, Senna sat in the other chair. “Is that what you think happened when you married my father? That because you married him, you lost everything?”

Sacra finally looked in Senna’s eyes.

“I won’t stop asking,” Senna said.

After a long silence, her mother said, “A man in town brought me those sketches after they died.” She looked away. “He drew your father’s nose wrong. And Arelle’s eyes. I remember thinking that when he gave them to me. But now, when I picture my daughter and husband, I see them how he drew them.”

Senna waited for her to continue, but she just remained silent and staring. “Mother, they were my family. I deserve to know what happened to them. Please.”

Twin tears leaked out of Sacra’s eyes. “It was my fault. Espen was hunting us down, one at a time. Men weren’t allowed on the island, so your father and your sister were in Nefalie. I slipped away from Haven to tell him I was expecting another baby. He was terrified for me. He begged me to go into hiding with him. But I was a Discipline Head, and the Sisters needed me desperately. “So I left him with your sister and returned.”

Senna considered her own future. Duty and family. How did one balance a life where both needed her, but only one’s needs could be met?

A sob clawed its way out of Sacra’s body. Senna leaned forward and covered her mother’s clenched hands with her own.

“The Witch Hunters found them instead of me,” Sacra went on. “I was here when I heard. On this cursed island, safe, while my family was in danger. Doing my duty while my daughter and husband were murdered in my place.”

Senna closed her eyes, imagining how her mother must have been once—ambitious, beautiful, confident. Senna slid off the chair to kneel before her. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“No?” Her mother’s voice was low. “I chose being a Witch over being a mother. It was a choice I’d made a hundred times. But this time, I was needed. And I wasn’t there.”

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I see you making the same mistakes I did. Sacrificing everything for the Witches, for a boy who loves you. And if it’s all taken away, what will you do then?”

Senna almost decided she couldn’t risk going to Tarten. Maybe she should just go into hiding until this was all over. It’s what her mother had done, though too late to save her father and sister. But Senna’s very soul balked at existing in ignorance and fear ever again. She’d been living with doing nothing for weeks, and it was destroying her. “I’ll be glad I ever had them at all.”

“If you die, what will I do?” Sacra’s voice cracked.

Could Senna ask her mother to live with that? It would break her. She searched her face. “Promise you’ll release this burden you’ve carried for so long. Promise me that you’ll find a way to be happy.”

Sacra lifted her shoulders in a helpless gesture. “I’ve carried it so long it’s become a part of me.”

“Then unmake that part of you!”

Sacra grunted. “I’ll—I’ll try. If you promise to live through all this.”

Senna wrapped her arms around her mother’s rounded shoulders and pressed her dry cheek against her mother’s wet one. “I promise to try.” How could she say goodbye? How could she make her mother understand she had to go? That she wasn’t repeating the same mistakes, because they’d never been mistakes. They were choices, the best choices she could make with the knowledge she’d had. “Perhaps I’m more like you than I know. I’m glad for it.”

Her mother groaned as if the words pained her. “I hope you’re better.”

Senna kissed her mother’s cheek. It tasted salty. “I love you.”

Sacra tried to smile. “And I you.”

Senna could tell her mother’s thoughts were far away. That was probably a good thing. If she were paying attention, she might realize Senna was trying to say goodbye.

Senna went to her room and gathered her things in her battered satchel. Then she refilled her seed belt and wrapped it around her waist. Back downstairs, she paused at the door. “The chesli harvest will start soon.”

Her mother waved her on. “You go on without me. I’ll be along eventually.”

For the first time, Senna understood why her mother had hidden her away in the hell that was Gonstower. Had kept her ignorant and alone. And Senna forgave her for it, as she hoped her mother would forgive her for putting her heart at risk of being shattered, this time so badly she could never put it back together.

Reden, Hesten, and Senna cut through air thick with shimmering bits of pollen. Heavier pieces fell around them like mist, touching the edges of their clothes with luminosity.

Senna threw occasional glances at her arms, checking to make sure she wasn’t glowing again. To her relief, her skin remained dull, except for the shining specks sticking to the tiny hairs on her arms.

Prenny’s tree house was in sight. Not much farther and Senna would slip inside while the Guardians kept watch. Then they would take one of the boats and escape into the night.

Of course, it was never that simple.

“Brusenna?”

Startled, she looked up to see Prenny pulling her door shut behind her, a freshly refilled lantern in hand. “You don’t have a lick of pollen on your hands. Do you think you’re above working in the fields now?” Prenny turned on Reden before Senna could respond. “And you two? If you’ve nothing else to do, I need some help reaching the higher plants.” She latched onto Reden’s injured arm.

His face tightened with pain, but he didn’t pull away. “We’ve work to do, Head.”

“At this hour of the night? Not likely. Besides, no work is more important than the chesli harvest. You two will come with me.” She looked over her shoulder. “Keep up, Senna.” Within moments, they were in the midst of the Witches again.

“Get to work,” Prenny said to Senna as she caught an older Apprentice’s attention. “Dorri, don’t let her out of your sight.”

Reden glanced at Senna, and she saw the indecision in his face. He didn’t want to leave her alone or delay their escape, but he didn’t want to raise Prenny’s suspicions, either. “Don’t go off by yourself,” he said to Senna.

Who knew how long it would be before Reden escaped from Prenny. In comparison, eluding Dorri would be as easy as pushing a needle through wool.

Hunched over the plants, the Apprentice glowered at Senna. “Well, get to work.”

It wasn’t long before Senna had her chance. While the others gathered around for a water break, she put a tree between them and stole away. The windows of Penny’s enormous four-story tree house remained dark. Senna removed the key from the ring so their clanking didn’t draw attention. Moving like a shadow, she crept through the foliage. At the bottom of the steps, she hesitated before lifting her skirt and running up the last few steps.

Her heart hammering in her temples, she slid the key into the lock. It turned with a loud click. She pulled on the hammered metal latch, and the door opened with a groan. After slipping inside, she shut the door softly behind her and hurried to the parlor. At the oval-shaped window, she pulled the heavy drapes closed. Moving by memory, she felt her way toward the stove.

Her foot collided with the corner of a dark lump of furniture in an explosion of pain. Biting back her curse, she hobbled the last few steps and set down a candle nub—plain tallow instead of anything scented that Prenny might notice. Senna lit the candle in the glowing coals of the fire. It flared, orange swallowed by yellow that stained her aftervision with an ethereal glow.

She limped to the cabinet. In the candle’s soft light, she saw her reflection in the glass, a ghost who wore guilt on her face. Her dark gold hair seemed to ripple with red and orange, making her an eerie likeness to the candle. Her golden eyes glinted a darker topaz.

Ignoring her specter, she took out a smaller key, inserted it into the cabinet’s tiny lock, and opened the cabinet. Her clammy hands left a damp imprint that immediately began to fade.

Senna set down ten glass vials from inside her satchel. Each cork pulled free with an accusatory pop. After wiping her hands on her dress, she reached for the first potion—Ioa. She filled her smaller vials from Prenny’s beakers, then placed each vial in her satchel. The beaker she carefully replaced on its dust-free circle on the shelf.

She worked quickly, taking only the smallest amounts. Just as she’d begun pouring the last bottle, she heard the floor behind her shift beneath someone’s weight.

“Who’s there?” a voice asked.

Senna jumped, spilling precious potion all over the floor.

The woman in the doorway hissed at the waste. Prenny stepped into the small circle of light cast by the candle.