Witch Fall (20 page)

Bethel motioned to the staircase. “Check the bedroom and then fetch us some more food.” Doranna started up the stairs.

Lilette sat down. It felt awkward, being this high from the floor, and she wished for soft cushions to sink into. A thousand questions flooded her mind. She blurted the first one to make it to her mouth. “I was going to eat that.”

Bethel snorted. “You don’t know better. You” —she shot Jolin a stern look, even though Lilette’s friend was still hiding behind her hand— “you know better.”

Jolin finally lowered her hand. “Not everyone is trying to poison us, Mother.”

“It only takes one,” Bethel replied.

Lilette’s astonished gaze settled on Jolin. “She’s your mother?”

Jolin groaned.

Bethel’s eyes met Lilette’s. The only soft thing about her was her hair, woven into a loose braid over her shoulder. But her steel-gray eyes did resemble Jolin’s. “Never eat anything without knowing where it came from.”

“You think we’re in danger?” asked Lilette.

“I know you are.” Without turning, Bethel spoke to her guardian. “Is he proficient?”

Lilette took in the glaring contest going on between Han and the guardian, who seemed to be making up for his baldness with a thick coating of black facial hair. “Shall we find out?” His voice held a challenge.

Sensing the violence about to break out, Lilette half rose to her feet. Bethel kicked her injured shin. “Stay put.”

Sucking air through her teeth, Lilette sat hard and grasped the still-swollen lump from where the elite had hit her.

Han and the guardian moved, their swords snaking from their scabbards. As they sparred, the sound of clashing swords rang in Lilette’s ears. She gritted her teeth, wanting to stop the fighting, though she didn’t think either man was really out to hurt the other. This was about proving something.

The men broke apart as suddenly as they had begun. “Well, Harberd?” Bethel said.

The guardian grinned. “He can handle himself.”

Bethel grunted in approval and leaned back in her chair, her hands laced over her stomach. “No—I don’t know who exactly you’re in danger from. All I know is that someone in the inner city is flinging curses around—curses she’s managing to keep hidden from all but the most powerful of witches.”

Jolin laughed nervously. “If someone were singing curses, the whole city would know.”

Bethel didn’t take her gaze from Lilette. “Curious isn’t it, that the most powerful witches have either been sent away or have ended up dead?”

“They send the strong witches on assignment,” Jolin replied, “and accidents happen.”

“How many?” Lilette rubbed her shin. “How many have died?”

Bethel’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “Three so far. One found dead in her bed, one from an infection, one simply disappeared.”

Jolin sighed. “Three women, Mother. Only three.”

“And how many level sevens do you think there are in Grove City?” Bethel asked softly.

“Ten, maybe fifteen.”

“There are three left,” Bethel said. “Two of them are in this room.”

Bethel was a level seven? Lilette’s eyes widened. The silence that followed took on a life of its own, growing like shadows after sunset.

Han sat down on one of the chairs, a light sheen of sweat on his brow. “Why? Why take the strongest?”

Doranna slipped down the stairs, moving very lightly for a woman in her middle years. “It’s safe,” she reported. When Bethel nodded, the wastrel moved past Harberd and disappeared outside.

“Because the curses are so well masked,” Bethel said. “Only the strongest can sense it.”

“It’s impossible to hide witch song, Mother.”

Bethel shot her a look. “As impossible as using the earth in potions?”

Jolin didn’t respond. Lilette’s eyes widened as she turned to face her friend. “Is that what you’re trying to do? What all your experiments are about?”

“It can be done,” Jolin said through clenched teeth. “I know it can. Think of it—a whole new world of ingredients that we know nothing about. Minerals such as salt, sulfur, antimony . . . the list is endless.”

Lilette bit her lip. “Even if it can, are you sure it’s a good idea? After all, look at the damage the witches can inflict with just a song.”

In answer, Jolin shoved herself back from the table and began pacing. Doranna returned with another platter of food, which she set on the table. Though Lilette’s mouth watered and her stomach tightened within her, she could not bring herself to eat.

Han nudged her. “Lilette?”

She raised haunted eyes. “I’ve been poisoned before.” She met Bethel’s gaze. “I thought I would finally be safe here.”

Bethel piled the food onto a plate and set it before her. “You will both come to Haven with me. There you will be safe.”

Jolin paused in her pacing. “I’m staying.”

Bethel took a delicate bite out of a slice of white, creamy-looking cheese. “You will come or I’ll cut off your funding for your research. And there go your dreams of becoming the Head of Plants.”

Jolin went so still she could have been carved of stone before she stormed up the stairs. Lilette forced herself to eat. At least it was food she was familiar with—sliced mangoes, oranges, and star fruit—all served with cheese and crackers.

There was a bottle of white wine that they shared, the fruitiness a nice contrast to the tangy cheese. When everyone had their fill, Doranna covered the remaining food with a cloth and set it aside.

Bethel rose to her feet. “All the women upstairs. You men are down.”

“I’ll take the first watch,” Han said as he stood.

The other guardian moved to join him. “We sleep in front of the doors. 

Bethel yawned and moved up the stairs without looking back.

Doranna moved to Lilette’s side. “I–I knew your parents. I’m sorry.”

All Lilette could do was nod.

I don’t know why all young women think their mothers fools. ~Jolin

Lilette’s head felt like a boulder perched precariously on her shoulders. She pressed her fingertips to her throbbing temples. Her mouth tasted particularly foul. She rolled to her knees and pushed herself up. Her body felt thick and ridged. She barely remembered to hold up the hem of her dress as she plodded down the curving staircase.

Downstairs was already in an uproar. Broad men were hauling out straw-lined crates while Jolin hovered above them, shoving fistfuls of straw between the books. “Make sure they are packed in oiled canvas. Water is poison for books. Absolute poison.” The men bore Jolin’s fussing with expressions of forced patience.

Han saw Lilette first. “You look rested.”

Jolin looked up at her and grunted. “He’s being kind. You look like you’ve been trampled by an elephant.”

Han shot Jolin a warning look. Lilette reached up to touch her hair. Half of it had come loose, so she shook it out and let it tumble in a messy, still-damp heap around shoulders. Her dress was crumpled from sleeping in it. “Remind me never to drink wine again.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes with the front of her wrists. “What’s going on?”

Jolin was already back to fussing over her books. “Mother made an agreement with the Heads. I am allowed to take some of the inner-city library books with me in exchange for going back with her. She’s already gone ahead to Haven. We’re to follow as quickly as we can.”

Lilette stood frozen on the stairway. All of her life, she’d dreamed of nothing but going to Haven, her days filled with singing and the knowledge she’d craved since childhood. And always with her sister beside her. Now Sash was the captive and Lilette the student.

Her gaze strayed to Han. She’d never imagined leaving him would hurt this much. He reached toward her, grasped her hand, and pulled her out the front door. They ended up behind the tree, in her sister’s private garden filled with leaves and the green smell of growing things.

He looked at Lilette, his eyes as dark and depthless as the deepest part of the ocean. His gaze shifted to her mouth and she could have sworn she felt the pressure of his gaze on her lips. She moved forward a fraction, until there was nothing between them but sunlight. Then there was nothing at all. His lips were on hers, not claiming, not possessing, simply wanting. Needing. She’d never known how full of need he was, how dark and empty the spaces in his soul must be. He drank her in like she was light and hope and he’d been a starving man all his life.

For Lilette, it was as if his touch let her shine. Like she’d been shattered into a thousand specks of light and he brought her together—made her whole.

With a shudder that shook him to the core, Han pulled away from her. He rested his forehead against hers, his breath ragged. “Lilette.”

She closed her eyes as he said her name like he was cupping a bird in his hands and was about to set it free. She inhaled the breath that had carried her name. “Han.”

“No matter how hard I try, you’re all I can see,” he murmured.

She held her hands together to keep them from trembling and betraying her. “Where does that leave us?” She pulled back slightly to look at him.

“I don’t know.” Han closed his eyes. “You’re leaving for Haven. I’m going to stay here as an ambassador for Harshen.”

She nodded. “I’m glad.” She trusted no one else with this.

Han hesitated, and then kissed her briefly. “Be well, little dragon.” He turned and started walking away.

Lilette watched him, waiting for him to move out of sight before she allowed her legs to go soft, let herself sink into the loam. She didn’t cry. She just waited for the aching to fade enough that she could get to her feet and keep moving.

***

Lilette stood at the bow, letting the cool sea wind wash over her. As the sun changed the color of the water from indigo to cerulean, jagged black cliffs rose in the distance. She was astounded by the sheer size of them, rising so high they seemed to cut into the sky. The ship headed toward a crescent moon carved into the side of the cliffs.

Behind her was a flurry of motion. Bare from the waist up, sailors took down the sails, slowing the ship to a crawl. Lilette looked for some kind of channel, some passage to get them inside the cliffs. There was nothing.

The captain ordered his men to drop the anchor. A splash was followed by the slither of ropes. The anchor dragged along the bottom of the sea before finally catching and slowing the ship to a halt. Lilette could feel the vessel straining against the pull of the water.

Jolin tightened her hands around the strap of the satchel containing all the seeds she’d gathered from Harshen. Her face was set as if she was facing down a raging storm.

“Are you all right?” Lilette asked.

Jolin slowly turned to face her. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The sailors had already loaded Jolin’s crates of books into the smaller boat, but she insisted on checking each one, double checking the ties around the oiled canvas. “You’re sure you double bagged them? Some of these books are nearly three hundred years old.”

Galon grinned at her, and Lilette had to tear her gaze away from the freckles that covered his chest. He’d been assigned as their guardian to Haven. His nose was a little large, his knuckles knobby, but there was something so ineffably happy about him that Lilette couldn’t help but like him.

“Yes, Keeper. I could toss them over the side now and they’d be nary the worse for wear.”

Jolin straightened as if she’d been slapped. “You’ll do no such thing!”

He chuckled. “’Course not. The point is I could.”

Jolin pressed both her fists to her hips, obviously preparing to deliver a tongue lashing.

Lilette rested a hand on her arm. “Jolin, he’s teasing you.”

“Oh. Well, as long as he keeps his hands off my books.”

“I don’t think that’s where he wants to put his hands,” Lilette murmured.

Galon’s grin widened. He gripped Jolin’s waist and hefted her easily into the boat. She squealed in surprise. He hauled himself up beside her and held out a hand to help Lilette in.

She took it even though she didn’t need it. “I never thanked you, for saving me back in Harshen.”

“You saved us back, so I guess we’re even.” He winked at her.

He reached across Jolin to grab a misplaced oar. She stiffened as his bare chest pressed against her arm, and Lilette resisted the urge to laugh. Before sitting down, she stumbled on some kind of wedge riveted into the base of the boat. She turned to look behind her, squinting through the brightness of the light reflecting off the water. “How are we getting past those walls?”

A grin stole across Jolin’s face. “You’ll see.” Lilette did not like that wicked gleam in her eyes.

Sailors finished loading the supplies into the boat and tied them down, the cords of muscle in their arms straining. The captain himself verified the stability of each crate.
Why do they need to be tied down so tight?
Lilette thought uneasily.

Three more sailors swung into the boat—none of them wearing shirts. Jolin tensed up as another bare-chested sailor took the seat next to her. Another stood in front of Lilette. “That’s my job, Witchling.” He pointed to the oar in Lilette’s hand.

She huffed indignantly. “I can do it.”

“’Course you can. But it isn’t your job—it’s mine. You’ve a different part to play.”

With a huff, Lilette handed over the oar and scooted to the center of the bench. The four sailors picked up the oars. The boat was lowered by a series of pulleys, the sailors lined up to release the rope one handhold at a time.

The boat settled heavily into the water. The sailors dug in with the oars, their movements a perfectly matched dance. More boats filled with supplies were lowered into the water after them.

Lilette watched as Jolin’s gaze traveled down Galon’s wiry frame, her bottom lip between her teeth. He turned in time to catch her appraisal, and a slow grin spread across his face. Jolin’s face flamed nearly as red as his hair. Lilette laughed out loud. Jolin glared a death curse at her. As soon as Galon turned away, she mouthed something that looked like “I’m going to kill you.” Lilette laughed harder.

The sailors stopped rowing and concentrated on keeping the boat from drifting.

“Now you have to stand and sing,” Jolin said, a smug look on her face.

Lilette’s grin faded. “Why?”

Jolin rooted around in her pocket and pulled out a piece of a sheet of music. “It’ll be good practice. Besides, you’re a better singer than I.”

Lilette took the music and quickly scanned it. She filled her lungs and her voice rang out.

Oh, sister sea plants, I ask of thee,

Take me to the place none but witches see.

The words echoed off the cliffs, adding an eerie chorus. As she began her third repetition, she caught sight of something white glimmering beneath the waves. Still singing, Lilette leaned forward for a closer look. But the image was suddenly blotted out by a thick rope of green. As the last note trailed off her tongue, ropes of seaweed shot up from below and began weaving around the boat.

A strong hand pulled her down. “This is your first time?” Galon asked. Mute, she nodded. He swore and shoved her hand into a leather loop on the seat beside her. She hadn’t paid it any mind before. “Hold on to this.”

She grabbed it, too confused and frightened to argue. He grabbed her leg and jammed her toes into a wedge of leather that had been bolted onto the deck. The one she’d stumbled over before. He winked at her. “Hold on. This is the fun part.”

She finally found her voice to ask him what he meant when the last of the kelp wrapped them in near darkness and the boat suddenly upended. Half a moment too late, Lilette tensed, her toes digging into the wedge. A sailor grabbed her shoulder to steady her. Suddenly it was almost silent. The kelp bulged inward until it pressed against her face, water trickling past the leaves. Her ears suddenly hurt so bad she couldn’t think past the pain.

“Try to blow your nose, but pinch it closed,” Galon told Lilette. She didn’t understand but she tried it anyway. Her ears popped and the pain was gone for half a moment before returning.

“Keep doing it,” he said encouragingly. Jolin gripped her satchel and muttered something about stupid ideas.

“Are we going to die?” Lilette whispered.

“Not today,” Galon responded far too brightly.

Suddenly, they were rising—much, much faster than they’d descended. The boat burst above the surface, and the kelp slithered away.

Lilette lay against the bench, her dress damp with seawater. Wherever they were was dimly lit and smelled of damp rocks and smoke. Above her was an arched ceiling, black with soot.

Galon sat up, a wide grin on his face. He and the other sailors started rowing. Lilette stayed where she was.

Jolin checked the seeds in her satchel before settling back with a sigh of relief. She laughed at the look on Lilette’s face. “I’m a bad friend.”

“Yes, you are.”

“You can let go of the loops now.”

Lilette forced her aching fingers to relax. She rubbed the feeling back into them and yanked her foot free of the wedge. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jolin smirked. “Because it wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun.”

Lilette took a deep breath to remind herself she wasn’t drowning and forced herself to look around. They were in a cave, but not a ragged hole in the side of a mountain. This was elegant and circular, with an arched, blackened ceiling held up by thick columns. Torches sputtered in brackets on the walls, sooty triangles behind them. Water exploded behind the boat as another one surfaced.

The sailors rowed the boat neatly into a dock, where wastrels waited to tie it off. Watching them, Lilette thought of Doranna and the others like her. Treating women like servants simply because they couldn’t sing—it wasn’t right.

Three sailors started unloading the boat. Galon offered the women a hand up. Jolin blushed again and let him help her out, then rushed to check on her books. Lilette wasn’t so eager to disembark. She missed the sea. Blowing out her lips, she took Galon’s hand.