“Of course I will.”
“Even if it means leaving someone behind.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he spoke before she could. “Sometimes men get trapped, and there’s no way to rescue them, not without losing more men than you save. It’s part of the risk we’ve all undertaken.”
The responsibility shot through her. Joshen and Reden were risking their lives to protect her. All they asked in return was that she obeyed them. They both watched her, and she knew they wouldn’t go on unless she said it. “If you and Joshen both tell me to go, I will.”
Reden nodded. Joshen didn’t react at all.
“Land ahead!” came a shout from outside.
Senna hurried to the bow. Captain Parknel came to stand beside them.
“How much longer?” Joshen asked.
Parknel judged the distance through his spy glass. “We’ll have to travel up coast for a bit. Sometime early morning.”
Senna watched the brown smudge in the distance. “So it begins.”
21. Cursed
Everything was dead. What was once a veritable jungle was now little more than brittle, brown rot that no hint of a breeze stirred. Since the Four Sisters had been commanded to lie dormant, there hadn’t been so much as a draft since the Witches fled these shores months ago. The stale air made the stink of the moldering corpses dotting the landscape so much stronger.
Unable to believe she had caused this desolation, Senna stepped forward, the dry vegetation crunching like brittle bones underfoot. She searched desperately for some signs of life between the mountains covering the landscape like overturned urns. Cord and Mistin were already out there, scouting for signs of danger. She was glad for Cord’s absence, at least. His every gaze felt like an unwanted caress.
Joshen rested a large hand on her shoulder. His eyes never stopped searching the colorless landscape. “Senna?”
He couldn’t understand this devastation the way she could. Since her senses had expanded to include the Four Sisters—Earth, Water, Plants, and Sunlight—she felt their absence like a womb suddenly void of life. “Did I really do this, Joshen?”
He finally spared her a glance. “You weren’t the only one. And none of you had a choice.”
Senna knew that wasn’t true. There was always a choice. She could have let Chancellor Grendi kill her and the remaining Witches, and the world would have continued on. For a little while at least.
From atop his own horse, Reden held out her gelding’s reins.
She eyed the palomino as it side-stepped nervously. “Are you sure about him?”
Joshen leaned in and spoke low enough that only she heard. “Senna, I’m going to give you every advantage I can.”
That horse didn’t feel like much of an advantage. “So Sunny’s your backup plan if three Guardians and Mistin fail?”
Joshen didn’t answer. Senna sighed. She missed the gentle eyes of her old horse, Knight. “All right, but if he throws me, I’m taking Cord’s horse.” The animal he’d brought for the journey had an ugly, bald face but a gentle nature. Hiking up her skirt, Senna climbed into the saddle.
Beside them, Reden finally spoke for the first time since seeing his ruined homeland. “We should keep moving. There are probably spies watching us.”
Senna looked back at him. “How do you know?”
He stared at the landscape. “It’s what I would have done.”
At his very core, Reden was a soldier—one of the best—so he didn’t show emotions the way a normal man would. But they were still there, if you knew him well enough. She’d spent enough time with him over the past months to see his guilt in the unyielding muscles of his face, and in the stiff way he sat in his saddle. After all, he’d helped her destroy his homeland.
“It’s not too late, Senna. We can still turn back,” Joshen said.
“I spent too much time on Haven doing the smart thing,” she replied. “Now I’m going to do the right thing.”
Reden didn’t say anything more. He wasn’t the type to argue. Once a decision had been made, he simply followed it through to the end—whatever that end may be.
They took the agreed-upon formation, Cord and Mistin scouting ahead, Reden in front of Senna, Joshen behind. As they heeled their horses into a gallop, Senna looked back at the Sea Witch anchored just off shore. She wished she were back on it, that she didn’t have to face the devastation she’d forced onto Tarten.
Moving at a fast clip, they retraced the path she and Joshen had taken months ago. Senna couldn’t help but notice the differences. Before, the road was choked with plants vying for sunlight. Now it was bare. The little hut they’d passed before, the one with the cooking fire in front, was empty, the fire pit filled with gray ash the wind hadn’t even bothered to blow away.