Witch Born (36 page)

She looked up at Collum. “You won’t leave him alone?”

Collum shook his head. “Not if I can help it.”

Gently, she laid Cord’s head down. “Goodbye, my friend. I hope to see you again someday.”

His eyes averted, Collum held out his cloak.

She remembered her sopping wet, nearly transparent shift. Embarrassment seemed such a small thing compared to men dying. “No. Cover Cord with it.”

Collum didn’t move. “I’ll find a blanket.”

When she didn’t take it, he took a deep breath. “He doesn’t need it, Senna. Not anymore. You’re freezing.”

Grudgingly, she took the cloak, shivering at the lingering warmth. “You’re not going to shoot me?” She was banned from Haven after all, and he had his orders.

He pursed his lips. “I trust you.”

She almost wished he didn’t. Men who trusted her ended up dead. “You’ll keep him safe?” It was a futile question. Nothing could ever hurt Cord again. But she had to ask.

Collum nodded. “I will.”

Forcing herself not to look back, Senna left the smoky light of Velveten for the murky light of the storm. Lifting the bottom of her cloak, she ducked her head against the onslaught of rain and ran through the island. She heard all the Witches, their song so well matched it sounded like a single voice. The choir stopped and Senna recognized Chavis’ forceful voice as she released the combined power of their songs.

Heat and light and power,

Strike the ships beyond our bower.

Lightning bolts to turn aside,

Waters roll back the enemy tide.

Senna reached the Ring of Power as Chavis finished the song. Light and sound exploded around her, throwing her to the ground and knocking the air from her lungs. Unable to draw breath, she watched as arcs of electricity shot across the barrier. They diminished before stopping altogether.

In a handful of heartbeats, dozens more lightning bolts streaked across the sky and shot beyond the cliffs. Some were intercepted and arched harmlessly across the clouds. Others seemed to hit their marks. Thunder shook the world.

As Senna struggled to her feet, Chavis was already singing another song.

A counter song rose from beyond the cliffs.

Chavis paused to draw breath, and Senna shouted into the expectant silence, “The Tartens are on the island!” Over two hundred pairs of eyes riveted on her. A few days ago that much attention would have paralyzed her. But shyness seemed another silly thing in the face of men dying. “We have to move the island now.”

Stunned silence followed her pronouncement. Drenelle waved her hand, her rings flashing. “Pah! The Tartens are just men. It’s the Witches we have to fear.”

Dozens of women erupted into speech at once.

“How did she get on the island?”

“What makes you think you have the right—”

“It’s a lie!”

Above the cacophony, Senna’s mother cried out, “Brusenna?”

Their gazes locked for a moment, long enough for Senna to see the relief and regret on her mother’s face.

“Silence!” Coyel shouted.

Drenelle said, “We’ve been over this. All we have to do is sit tight while they beat their fists bloody against our walls.”

“Tarten soldiers have nearly reached the cliffs—too many for our Guardians to hold off. You have to move the island.”

Chavis stroked the butt of the pistol strapped to her chest. “That’s impossible.”

As if to punctuate Senna’s words, musket fire bloomed along the cliffs. All the Witches’ minds were linked, so they moved as one to turn and see the battle illuminated by spills of lightning.

Prenny gaped at Senna. “By the Creators, she’s right.”

Like snake eyes, the gems on Drenelle’s fingers flashed with a lightning strike. “It’s a moot point. Our song isn’t strong enough to move the island. Not anymore.”

Coyel studied her. “You’re absolutely sure?”

Drenelle nodded.

Chavis closed her eyes as if she were in pain. “You shouldn’t have come back, Brusenna.”

Senna ignored the grief in her voice. “With my song, you’re strong enough.”

“No!” her mother shouted.

Chavis snorted. “No Witch is that strong. Besides, you expect us to give control of the entire Circle to you? I think not. Even if the Tartens are on the cliffs, we’ll collapse the ground beneath their feet, blast them with lightning.”

“Your Guardians are up there!” Senna threw her hands out at her sides. “Besides, the Caldash Witches will protect them!”

“Caldash Witches?” someone said.

“Calden Witches who renamed themselves Caldash after Haven tried to destroy them centuries ago. They’ve been hiding behind a barrier.”

There was a heartbeat of stunned silence. Only the Heads seemed to understand.

Prenny spoke up for the first time. “We didn’t listen to her before, and look what’s happened. I’ll not stand by and watch you make the same mistake again.” The old woman slowly stood, careful to keep her connection with the other Witches. “You are afraid of her—of what she’s becoming. I understand that. I was afraid too. But Brusenna is not Lilette.”

Chavis rounded on Prenny. “And if the song isn’t strong enough and disintegrates after we release it? The island will collapse in on itself and we’ll all die!”

Senna thought of Cord. Joshen. Reden. All dead for helping her deliver this message. She’d faced worse than old women’s fears, and she’d come out stronger for it. She wasn’t afraid anymore. “Perhaps you deserve the fate coming for you.” She pointed at the others. “But the Witchlings? The Apprentices? All the other Keepers? I came back for them too. And if you deny the truth, perhaps they won’t.” There was a time for insurrection. Perhaps this was it.

“You’re asking us to trust your word that you’re strong enough?” Chavis asked.

Senna narrowed her gaze. “Yes.”

“I don’t.” Chavis twisted to look at Drenelle. “You?”

Drenelle shook her head. “The kind of power to move that much earth…we’ve nowhere near what it would take.”

Senna squared herself in front of Coyel, who held the sway vote. “It always comes down to this, Head. You and me.”

Coyel studied her. “And if you manage to move us, what then? The Tartens will just come again and again.”

“You’ll have to abandon Haven and go into hiding or join Caldash,” Senna said.

“As if we can trust Caldash,” Prenny ground out.

Drenelle winced as a bolt struck dangerously close. “Now that we know how the Tartens plan to invade, we can defend against them.”

Coyel held herself as still as death. Finally, she slumped as if the weight on her shoulders was too much. She eyed the women around her. “This song requires us to move to the cliff’s rim. Spread yourself behind our Guardians and use wind to buffet the Tartens back. When the Guardians are behind us, we’ll create a corporeal barrier.” She paused. “And Brusenna will move the island.”

“No!” her mother shouted as she broke the Circle, running to stand between the Heads and her daughter. The barrier flickered into fragments that dissipated like a rain of dying stars. “I’ll not let her die.”

Die?
Senna didn’t understand.

“You promised we wouldn’t use Brusenna this way—that we wouldn’t let her die! We all did,” Prenny barked.

Coyel watched her mother, and Senna saw the friendship that had once been between them. “If she’s right, she’s the only one strong enough.” The Head shifted her gaze to Senna. “I’m sorry.”

Sacra fell to her knees before her daughter. “A singer has never lived through moving an island, Brusenna. Not even Lilette.”

Senna knelt in the wet grass and encircled her mother in her arms. “You knew from the beginning I would die, didn’t you?”

“I tried to warn you.” Her mother’s body trembled. “I knew Haven would use you up for its own purposes, just as they did me. It’s one of the reasons I kept you away from them, why I tried again and again to get you off this island.”

Love bloomed in Senna’s breast like the promise of a rainbow after the storm has passed. “It has to be this way.”

“No!” her mother cried. “I’ll do it. I’ll sing the song.”

Senna noticed the outline of a pistol beneath her mother’s coat. Looking up, she saw that all the Witches wore one. They would have one shot before the rain dampened their powder and made the guns useless. “You’re not strong enough, Mother.”

“No! I won’t let you!”

Sadness was like a raw wound inside Senna. It was obvious her mother would never let her go—she couldn’t. Senna looked at the others for help and found Prenny singing softly under her breath. The old woman flashed a violent purple potion at her as she sneaked toward Sacra.

Yarves. The potion would take away her mother’s free will. The effects were permanent, unless the antidote was given in the first few hours.

Senna closed her eyes. It was the only way. She nodded slightly.

Prenny pressed her mouth to Sacra’s before she could fight back. Her eyes went blank. Prenny ordered Sacra to the cliffs with the others. “I’ll look after her,” she promised.

Senna watched her mother go, her heart like a cold stone in her chest. “Tell her I’m so sorry.”

Prenny nodded curtly and hurried after her.

Coyel grasped Senna’s hand. “We aren’t touching this time, so our minds won’t link. Are you sure you remember the song?”

Senna smiled bitterly. “Even if I don’t, I can move the island.”

“No, you can’t!” Drenelle shrieked. “I’m telling you, it’s impossible. We’re all going to die!”

“Spoken like the traitor you are,” Senna cried.

Drenelle jerked as if she’d been slapped. “Traitor? I’m no traitor.”

“No? When I was first attacked, you tried to stop us from searching for my attackers. The second time, you sent Joshen away, giving them the perfect opportunity to take me.”

Drenelle held up her hands. “That’s ridiculous.”

Coyel eyed Drenelle suspiciously. “Drenelle?”

“I swear, I’m not working with Caldash.”

Coyel stood stiff and unsure before seeming to make a decision. “You’ll stay next to me until we can sort this out.”

Drenelle went pale. “It won’t matter. If she tries to move this island, it will all break apart.”

Senna groaned. It was foolish leaving Drenelle free, but there wasn’t time to argue the point.

Coyel took Drenelle’s arm. “She’s Creator-touched. That has to mean something.” She turned to Senna. “Goodbye, Brusenna.”

Everyone else had already gone. Senna was alone, and she was going to die. The thought frightened her, made her sick, but she didn’t try to run.

Instead, she thought again of Joshen, dead for her. Of Reden and Cord. Her father and sister, whom she’d never even met. And she realized most of the people she loved were already with the Creators. She would be joining them soon. Maybe there was nothing to fear after all.

Senna tipped her face up to the rain as her apprehension melted away.

She was ready.  

“Brusenna!”

Chavis strode across the green toward Senna. Arianis trotted behind her. Quick as a striking snake, Chavis pulled the pistol from her holster and pointed it at Senna from underneath the protective covering of her cloak. “I’ll not let some silly majority vote get us all killed. Arianis, tie her hands.”

Senna blinked in surprise. Arianis’ mouth moved wordlessly, like a fish ripped out of the water.

“Arianis!” Chavis shouted.

Arianis jumped and hauled out some rope.

Senna shook her head. “I’m the only one who will die.”

Chavis chuckled darkly. “I’ve trained for war my entire life. Don’t pretend to tell me how to manage a battle.”

Arianis wound the rope around Senna’s already-raw wrists. The rough fabric dug into the scabs, breaking them back open. Senna hissed through her teeth. “How many people have to die, Chavis?”

Arianis tried to gag her, but Senna locked her teeth just after the rope had passed her incisors—something Joshen had taught her. It was obviously the first time the other girl had ever attempted to gag anyone, for she didn’t seem to notice her mistake. Neither did the Head.

Chavis was careful to keep her pistol out of the rain. “Don’t. Lecture. Me.”

Arianis’ hands were shaking as she tied off the knots. “They’ll miss me if I’m gone any longer.” She wiped her palms on her cloak. It was obvious she didn’t want to be a part of this.

Chavis gestured for her to leave. “Fine. Go. I’ll meet you at the cliffs.”

Arianis hesitated, her gaze riveted to Senna. She started to slowly back away.

Refusing to beg, Senna watched as the other girl turned and ran.

Without the Witches’ songs to counter the lightning, bolts slammed into the ground all around them. Chavis motioned Senna to move away from the Ring of Power. Where was she taking her? Ducking her chin, she managed to work the gag off.

Senna heard the unmistakable sound of a hammer cocking. “You sing one syllable, and I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”

Senna believed her. Rain streaking down her face, she begged, “Please listen. I have to move the island or we’ll all die.”

Chavis ignored the plea. “How did you escape from the Tartens, anyway?

Senna’s breath snagged in her throat. “How could you know that?”

Chavis stiffened. “Know what?”

“That it was the Tartens I escaped and not Caldash?”

Senna didn’t realize she’d stopped moving until Chavis shoved her with the barrel of her gun. “You said it yourself.”

Senna stumbled forward. They were inside the trees now. The wind lessened. Great drops of rain that had collected on the leaves plopped on Senna’s head. Lightning ripped apart light and shadow, leaving jagged edges. “No, I didn’t. The only way you could have known is—” She whirled around.

Jabbing the pistol at her chest, Chavis shoved Senna to the ground.

More pieces fit together. “When I defeated Espen, she had every Head’s seed in her belt—except yours.”

Chavis took a step back, her pistol aimed at Senna’s heart, her eyes as dark as midnight. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I was wrong. Drenelle’s not the traitor. You are! You let Cord and Mistin on the island!”

Something shifted in Chavis’ expression, and Senna realized the Head wasn’t trying to force her to go anywhere. She was just staring. Cold realization shot through Senna. Chavis hadn’t brought her into the trees to tie her up in some cellar. She’d brought her here to kill her.