Witch Born(54)

Reden shut the door, blocking their view of Prenny’s upturned face, and slid the bar home. “Come on.”

Joshen tugged Senna after him. “How are we to escape?” he asked.

Reden shook his head. “Leave that to me.”

When they arrived at Velveten, Collum was on duty. He looked a bit wan and was hunched over. Reden had said he’d been sick. Still, he seemed alert.

Collum eyed them, his brow furrowed. “Leader Reden, Joshen. What was all that commotion?”

Reden motioned for Collum to step aside. “Let us pass, Guardian.”

Collum shifted uneasily on his feet. “Sir? You need a signed pass from the Heads.”

“No. I don’t.”

The Heads’ orders overruled Reden’s, and they all knew it. Joshen tugged Senna forward so the lantern light spilled across her face. “We have to get her out, Collum. Before it’s too late.”

Collum opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Joshen took another step towards his friend. “They almost took her again yesterday. And there’s a danger coming for Haven. We have to stop it.” When Collum didn’t respond, Joshen said softly, “Sometimes we have to protect our Witches from their own mistakes—even the Heads. Leary knew that.”

Collum glanced around, the beads in his hair clicking. “They’ll throw me out, take away my Guardianship. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Joshen gritted his teeth, knowing he’d already forfeited the role he’d worked towards his entire life. Now instead of being a Guardian, he would be hunted by them. But it didn’t matter, not when Senna was involved.

Reden pulled a length of rope from his pocket. “I’ll tie you loose enough to slip free if you’re needed.”

Collum stared at the rope before slowly raising his hands. Joshen let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

Reden quickly tied the knots. “If anyone asks why you didn’t call for help, tell them the last thing you remembered was the smell of flowers.”

Joshen rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Collum nodded in understanding.

Collum sat down so they could tie his feet. Reden made fast work of the ropes while Joshen tugged Senna into the cave.

Reden retrieved two packed satchels stowed beneath one of the piers. Joshen stepped into the boat and was turning back to help Senna when someone cried, “Wait!”

Expecting Chavis to put a ball in his head, Joshen turned. But it was only that diminutive Witch who’d been tied up with Senna. What was her name? Mistin?

“Take me with you,” she said.

Joshen and Reden exchanged disbelieving looks.

“No.” Reden handed Senna over to Joshen, who helped her down and settled her on one of the benches.

Mistin took a step closer, but not close enough Reden could grab her. “Take me with you or I’ll tell the Heads what you’re doing. You’ll never escape.”

Reden glared at her. “Threatening us is the wrong tactic, little Witch.”

Mistin dropped her face in her hands and started crying. Joshen looked away. By the Creators, he couldn’t stand it when girls cried.

Reden seemed as unfazed by her tears as he was by her threats. “You’re going to be banished tomorrow anyway.”

Mistin sniffed loudly. “They’ll come for me in the morning and take me to the Ring of Power. All the Witches will gather around me. The Dawn Song will be stripped away, so I’ll never be able to come inside the island again. Then they’ll take me to Corrieth, give me a handful of upice coins, and abandon me. Please don’t make me live through that.”

Joshen wanted to shout in frustration. They needed to get Senna off this island, not stand here and argue with some sniveling Sprout!

Reden grunted in agreement. “All right. We’ll take you as far as Corrieth. We could use another rower anyway.”

Mistin’s face brightened immediately. “Thank you! Oh, thank you!” She darted into the boat as if afraid they might change their minds.

Joshen turned his attention to Senna. She stared at the rock wall, swaying. He wondered what she heard. Judging by the look on her face, it was beautiful. A pang of jealousy shot through him. He pushed it away. Her job was to sing. His job was to keep her alive.

“Is your song strong enough to sing us out?” Reden asked Mistin.

“No.”

Lot of good she was. Joshen rubbed the back of Senna’s hand with his thumbs. “You have to sing for us, my love.” It was like she couldn’t hear him. “Senna?” When she still didn’t answer, he cupped his hands over her ears, blocking out whatever she was hearing.

She blinked wearily at him. “Joshen?”