Witch Born(12)

“Come along. The storm will only remain this strong for an hour at best. We mustn’t dally.”

Senna had to resist the urge to strangle Drenelle. She’d left Joshen for this. All because the Head insisted they commune during a storm. Something about the earth opening up to receive the rain, and therefore opening up to them as well. She also claimed the earth came awake at night.

So here they were, traipsing through Haven in the middle of the night. In the pouring rain. Drenelle and the other Heads believed the attackers were gone. Senna suspected at least one was still out there. The whole outing was utter madness.

It wasn’t like Senna needed to slip into a trance to feel the Four Sisters—Earth, Water, Plants, and Sunlight—all around her.

As the class finally reached the Ring of Power, the clouds parted briefly, revealing the crescent moon.

Four was a sacred number for the Witches. There were four phases of the moon in direct opposition to each other—half moon, crescent moon, gibbous moon, and full or new moon. Four seasons. Four Sisters or elements. Four Creators who’d formed the world by combining their mastery of their respective elements. Four Discipline Heads who were patterned after the Creators to administrate over their respective elements.

Drenelle peeked out from under her umbrella. “Perfect. This is all going perfectly. All of you spread out. Make yourselves comfortable.”

Comfortable? Sopping wet in a lightning storm. Under a tree. Comfortable? More like suicidal. But Senna kept her thoughts to herself. In Drenelle’s earth lessons, they mostly identified rocks, meditated to map out valuable deposits, identified soil composition, and studied earth-tremor detection and reduction.

Tugging her hood further down, Senna did her best to arrange her cloak so it protected her from the damp grass, then leaned back against the smooth trunk of one of Haven’s trees, which managed to keep a little of the rain off her.

“All right, everyone,” Drenelle said in her most soothing voice, which reminded Senna of a cawing crow. “Dig your feet into the earth. Spread yourself into it like a seedling, sending forth roots—searching, feeling, being. Send away your conscious thoughts. Feeling the earth does not happen in your consciousness, but deeper, in your unconscious mind. Let yourself flow with the natural rhythms, like sand slipping between your fingers.”

There was no way Senna could keep her bandage dry, which meant after Drenelle’s class, she’d have to suffer through another of her mother’s scoldings. Grumbling, Senna untied the laces of her boots and slipped them off. Despite her sour mood, she couldn’t help but be drawn into the earth. Much as she hated to admit it, Drenelle was right. The Fourth Sister was more open during the storm, like the earth expanded upward, stretching to receive the rain, even as Senna extended down.

While Drenelle was still droning on, Senna was already deep within her unconscious mind, flowing with the natural rhythms of the earth. Her connection with the Four Sisters allowed her Witch senses to travel further and deeper than she’d ever gone before.

She heard something…something far away. She shifted toward it, but no matter how fast she moved, the sound grew no closer. She paused, frustrated. And then she remembered what Drenelle had said.

Like sand slipping between your fingers. Senna stopped chasing the sound and imagined her soul as a grain of sand, sifting wherever the wind or the rain or the earth willed. Imagination became reality. Her soul pulled out of her body.

It should have been frightening—terrifying, even. But it wasn’t. It was liberating.

Smelling the wind all around her, she twirled on the currents like a handful of dandelion fluff. The wind set her down gently. She opened her eyes to find herself caught on a mountaintop. She stood immovable as the peak. Her soul was buffeted by wind and rain, yet she was not afraid. All was as it should be. As it would be for eons to come.

But her soul was not as patient as a mountain. She allowed herself to sink into rich, dark earth with the rain. Deeper, where precious stones lay like lumps of sugar. She reveled in the darkness, in the pressure and stillness.

All her life, she’d searched for this kind of communion  —this sense of belonging, of oneness. She’d never felt more complete. More at peace.

From far away, she heard the sound again. It was music. Deep-throated drums and echoing horns in a song that was seductive with a texture so cavernous she’d never reach the end of it. Senna swayed to the rhythm, her throat aching to sing.

So she did. She wasn’t conscious of the words she sang, but the music paused as if listening. After half a heartbeat, it started up again, its rhythm melded with hers. Delighted, she sped up the tempo and lifted her pitch. The music matched her.