Witch Born(55)

That was the first time she’d fully focused on his face. The first time she’d spoken. He leaned forward until he was the only thing she could see. “Sing for us.”

She half shook her head. “Sing?”

He leaned towards her and kissed her softly. When he pulled back, her eyes tracked him. “Sing us off the island.”

She glanced around again in confusion before focusing on the water. Her face cleared. Her song was little more than a whisper.

I ask of thee, plants of the sea,

Take me from the place none but Witches see.

Her voice was so lovely it made his chest hurt. The world seemed to pause, listening. All he wanted was to protect her. In doing so, was he stifling her?

Senna paused, her brow furrowed.

Joshen nodded reassuringly. “Keep singing, Senna.”

She stared blankly at him. He smiled at her. She sang again. This time, the world seemed to move in harmony with her.

Before she’d even finished her second song, kelp shot up from the water. Holding Senna tight to his chest, Joshen lay back and tried not to panic. No matter how many times he came in or out of the island, it terrified him anew. Kelp circled the boat, blotting out the lantern light. He felt the boat tip upward.

Joshen braced himself as they pitched forward under the water. Senna gripped fistfuls of his shirt in her hands, a small sound of panic slipping from her mouth.





17. Sea Witch





Senna woke to the feel of something rocking beneath her and the sound of lapping waves. She jerked upright, panic coursing through her. She was in a small boat with Joshen, Reden…and Mistin. They were all breathing hard and red-faced from rowing. Senna gripped the lacquered sides of the craft and pulled herself up. Morning light kissed the tops of the sea, leaving sparks of passion wherever it touched.

Senna’s gaze locked with Joshen’s. “I…How did I get here? The Heads—they were going to lock me up.”

“They still might,” Reden answered.

Joshen handed her a skin of water. Why was he here? He’d threatened to stop her before. She drank to wash away the stale taste in her mouth.

“They drugged you with barbus extract. Actually, some of it got on your skin, which is why it put you out for so long. If breathing it can put you instantly to sleep, think how much stronger it is soaked into your skin,” Mistin rambled nervously. “It’ll take a few hours for the confusion to completely fade.”

Shivering in the chill morning air, Senna pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. “Where are we?”

Joshen nodded towards a dark smudge in the distance. “Nearly to Corrieth.”

She rubbed her numb hip. “How did you get me out?”

Joshen studied her. “Do you remember any of it?”

She closed her eyes. Images flashed in her mind. “Lights, moths—their wings on my skin—falling.” She caught her friends watching her with guarded expressions. “Was it a dream?”

Reden shook his head. “It was no dream.” He told her how she’d glowed and about singing the wind into a shield around herself.

Remembering the power that had surged through her last night, Senna closed her eyes and searched for an echo of it. But it was spent. She’d never felt so empty.

“What’s happening to me?”

Joshen and Reden dug their oars in harder.

The Heads probably knew she was gone by now. Time was not on their side. Her body still sluggish with sleep, Senna took the seat next to Mistin and grabbed an oar.

“What about your hand?” Joshen asked.

Senna mentally counted how many days since her injury. Nearly two weeks. “It’ll be all right if I’m careful.” Reden gave her strips of a ripped blanket and she wrapped them around her hands to protect her from blisters. She waited until she had their rhythm, then she started rowing. The strain bothered her, but it was bearable if she used her fingers to grip the oar instead of her palm.

Sweating beside her, Mistin glanced over her shoulder as the city began to take shape.

“Why are you with us?” Senna asked.

Joshen told Senna how Mistin had fought for her. His account evoked Senna’s memories, and she felt a stab of guilt. For helping her, Mistin would be banished from the only place she’d ever been safe.

Mistin sighed. “What will I tell my brother?”

“Brother? I thought you were from Dresdan.”

Mistin nodded towards Corrieth. “Cord wants to become a Guardian, remember? It’s all he’s ever wanted.” She pinched her eyes shut. “Now he’ll have me to worry about.”

Reden spoke up. “Then why hasn’t he applied?”

Mistin gave a halfhearted shrug. “Because he’s not of age yet.” All Guardians had to be at least seventeen.