Witch Born(65)
Senna strode across the deck and stood beside Mistin, joining in and singing with her. Within two songs, the wind became steady enough to keep them moving at a swift clip for a few hours.
Mistin turned to Senna with a smile so broad her cheeks almost swallowed up her eyes. “I’m starting to love the sea!”
Senna studied her. There had been a question burning in her mind for a while. “Why did you stand up for me against the Heads? Why did you risk your place on Haven?”
“Ha! They were going to kick me out any day, and you know it. The only reason I was still there at all was because I was their servant, and I hated that.” Mistin squinted against the sun. “The only thing they see is the strength of a Witch’s song. They never look at the rest of her.” She turned her beautiful smile onto Senna. “Besides, you’re my friend and you needed me.”
Despite her sour mood, Senna found herself smiling back. A friend—she’d always wanted one of those. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
Mistin sighed with pleasure. “I’ll take this round of singing, since I know your voice is probably still tired after that storm. You can cover midday and night.”
Senna wanted to protest. Mistin would have to sing nonstop to keep the wind going. Senna need only sing a few times a day to achieve the same result. But Mistin would only see her help as an insult.
And her voice did need rest. “All right.” Everyone would just have to deal with it.
Senna jumped as a shot fired. She turned to see Cord lower his musket and nod at something Reden said. He reloaded, sighted down the barrel, and fired again. Despite herself, Senna jumped again. She really hated guns.
Reden gestured for the two women to join them. “You need to learn this.” He held out a pistol to Senna.
She reached inside her seed belt and pulled out the pistol Joshen had given her. “I’ve practiced with Joshen a few times, but I’ve never had the chance to use it. I guess it’s not much good in an ambush.”
Reden’s face was hard. “Not unless it’s ready. Takes a minute to load.”
She shrugged. “I can sing faster than that.”
He handed Senna and Mistin some balled-up wool to stuff in their ears. “Primed, it’s faster than Witch song. Different weapons fit different situations, Senna. You should be deft in all of them. You’ll practice every day, twice a day. I’m going to teach you and Mistin some grappling, too.”
Mistin didn’t accept the wool. “Maybe later. I saw them bringing Senna a bath. I want one too.”
Reden’s gaze never left Mistin’s small figure as she walked to their cabin.
Senna smirked as she started loading the pistol. “Did you have a girl back in Tarten?”
Reden started slightly. “A girl? No. Being married to a soldier is a hard thing to ask of anyone—sending him off, not knowing whether he’ll return at all. It’s worse when you’re a Commander.”
It had been a while since Senna had practiced with Joshen. After she’d finally loaded the pistol, she shook her hair out of her eyes and sighted down the barrel. “Why?”
Reden squinted against the sun. “Because Grendi has very little tolerance for a Commander who displeases her. And she’s very easy to displease. I lingered longer than most. Still, my time was limited. If I hadn’t left with you, I doubt I would have made it much longer.”
She fired. “Did I hit it?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “What were you aiming for?”
“The water.” She grinned.
He chuckled. “I’m pretty sure you killed it.”
She poured more powder into the barrel and promptly fumbled the ball. It fell on her foot and rolled across the deck. Using one of Joshen’s favorite curse words, she limped after it.
When she finally caught the ball, she looked up to find Reden watching her, one side of his mouth crooked up.
“Go ahead and laugh,” she said with a frown.
He held his hand over his mouth. “I’m not laughing.”
She considered throwing the musket ball at his head. Instead, she finished loading the pistol and fired. Despite the wool, her ears rang.
“Not bad. I want you to practice midmorning and midday to increase your speed, until the movements become habit.” He studied her. “Why did Joshen take you below decks?”
She rubbed her face. “He bought me a horse. A gorgeous, fast, dangerous horse.”
Reden’s brow rose. “The palomino?”
She nodded.
Reden took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, the man knows his horses.”
If any woman in love with Joshen had to love horses by default, maybe that extended to his friends, too.