Prenny went on as if Drenelle hadn’t spoken, “I was in the middle of creating my Ioa potion after Brusenna stole my last batch. It takes months to prepare. And I had to leave it in the care of a trembling Witchling. If that girl ruins it—” Prenny’s tirade stumbled to a halt when she finally noticed Senna. “What’s the Sprout doing here?”
Senna folded her arms across her chest. “I had to have that potion to save all of you from Espen.”
Coyel rolled her eyes heavenward. “Drenelle, is this about the earth tremor we felt earlier?”
Drenelle turned her scorching gaze from Prenny to Coyel. “Brusenna started to sing the Relocation Song. We’re lucky I stopped her before she moved us.”
Chavis sat up straighter. “She what?”
Senna knew she’d sung something forbidden, but she still didn’t know what. “The words were just there!”
Ignoring her, Chavis dropped into a chair. “And the island began to respond?”
“That’s impossible,” Prenny said as she held her hands over the stove. “Even a Seventh Level couldn’t make the earth shift. Not alone. A song that powerful takes hundreds of Witches.”
For the first time, Senna noticed that Drenelle looked rather pale—almost frightened. “I heard it.”
Every Head was silent. Senna moistened her lips. “I—I don’t know what’s happening.”
Coyel’s over-bright eyes fixed on her. “You began the song that moves the island.”
Senna took a step back. “I— What? No. I was only meditating on earth, like Drenelle said. And I heard music. It was so beautiful I sang along. And then I became frightened and the words came to me.”
“You heard music?” Chavis repeated with an undercurrent to her voice Senna didn’t understand. Anger or fear, or both.
Coyel laced her fingers over her stomach. “Did anyone teach you the Relocation Song?”
Senna shook her head. “I was just frightened, and words were there.”
“Frightened of what?” Prenny asked softy. She’d opened the grate and was staring into the fire. It was almost as if she were speaking to the flames.
Senna studied the oldest Head’s profile. For a woman in her sixties, Prenny had amazingly few wrinkles—probably because she knew of potions to diminish them. “You wouldn’t believe me,” Senna finally replied.
Her face flushed from the fire, Prenny studied Senna with a hard expression. “I might.”
Senna took a deep breath and told them everything that had happened in the Ring of Power. They listened without interrupting. Drenelle slumped in a chair, Chavis wore a grim expression, and Prenny stood stiff and unmoving beside the fire.
When Senna finished, Coyel’s expression revealed nothing. “Is it possible for that many Witches to gather without our knowledge?”
Chavis blew out a breath. “Surely we would have felt such a thing through the Four Sisters—every time they sang together, the elements would have shifted.”
Drenelle sniffed. “Are you certain you didn’t just fall asleep?”
Senna didn’t bother answering.
Coyel rubbed her neck. “Foreign Witches would explain how two men entered the island uninvited and would relieve of us of finding a traitor.”
Senna bit her lip. “Can’t you strip the Dawn Song away from the other Witches?”
Chavis snorted. “We need a name or the actual person to banish him or her.”
Coyel sighed. “All right, Senna, we’ll take care of this. You go on home.”
Senna paused. “I’d like to help.”
Coyel smiled tightly. “Remember your place, Apprentice Brusenna. From now on, please remember that a Witch’s song is also a weapon. Best not to do something if you don’t understand the consequences.”
Her head hanging, Senna nodded.
Coyel motioned toward the door. “Please don’t repeat the song. We don’t want the words to become common knowledge. And don’t tell anyone about what happened tonight.”
Senna nodded again and had to stop herself from running out the door. As she started to pull it shut behind her, she heard Drenelle’s high voice. “You’re just going to let her go?”
“It’s begun.” Senna just caught sight of Prenny turning away from the fire. “I tried to warn you.”
At the old woman’s words, Senna froze and left the door open a sliver.
Coyel groaned. “I had hoped Senna would be spared.”
“You should tell her,” Chavis said softly.
What are they talking about? Senna wondered.
Coyel straightened to her full height. “Absolutely not. No matter what transpires, none of us can tell Senna. We all agreed to this.”