One more song, and it would swallow them whole. Just as they’d tried to do to Senna days before.
Dark, damp, deep, and cold
A knife trembled in Mistin’s hand. Her gaze locked with Senna’s. Mistin set her mouth. Slowly, her hand fell to her side.
A brief spasm of conscience wouldn’t save Mistin from Senna’s fury. Not after all her lies and treachery.
Gaping chasm, open fold
“Senna!” she heard Cord shout above her song. He gestured to the east. There were Tarten soldiers in the distance, closing in on them fast.
Did he think she would spare him because of a common threat? No. She would deal with these Witches. The soldiers would be next.
Grit and rock and mineral tang
The ground softened beneath the Witches. They were sinking.
Down to the depths—
Something hurtled into her from the side, slamming her so hard into the ground that the song on her lips shattered into a cry of pain. A gag shuttered the cry. She felt the weight of a man on top of her. More hands tying her wrists. She strained to lift her head.
Cord stretched a hand towards her as if he wanted to intervene, to help her. His expression was full of regret. But he and Mistin had kept Senna distracted while this man had crept up from behind. She glared at Cord with all her pent-up rage as her bonds were tightened.
Cord’s chest heaved, his hand falling to his side as the wind slowly dissipated.
Senna was surrounded by men dressed in dark tunics. She hadn’t seen them before, but she knew instinctively they were Guardians to these Calden Witches. She was pulled to her feet. Only then did she realize the familiar weight of her seed belt was gone.
Soon it wouldn’t matter. The Tarten soldiers were so close Senna could almost make out the details of their uniforms.
Four Witches strode towards Senna without fear. A small army of Guardians fell in behind them. They held their muskets tightly, their faces hard.
“This is Brusenna?” the center Witch asked Mistin.
“Yes,” Mistin said, refusing to meet Senna’s gaze.
Senna squared her shoulders and glared this new threat down.
The Witch who’d spoken smiled. “Yes. This is her.” She stepped forward. She resembled Mistin, but then all the women did. Even Cord had the same look—dark hair and eyes with creamy gold skin. “My name is Krissin,” the Witch said. “We’ve been searching for you for a long time.”
25. Stryker
With a sick feeling of dread, Senna recognized the authority this woman wore like a second skin, so much like Coyel the two could be sisters. Krissin was a Discipline Head—the Head of Sunlight. And Senna realized she’d heard the name before, when she’d overheard Cord’s and Mistin’s furtive whispers that first night.
“I will offer you a boon, Brusenna. We will remove your gag, on the condition you swear not to sing. Break that promise and you will be violently silenced. Then you will be gagged and bound for the remainder of our journey. Do you agree to the terms?”
Senna nodded once.
Cord freed her wrists before snipping the gag. “Sorry.” He held a knot of her golden hair in his hand. He watched her like she was an agitated cobra that might strike at any moment.
She knew better. She would need time to bend the Four Sisters—time she wouldn’t have surrounded by Guardians and Witches.
One of the other Heads touched Krissin’s shoulder. “They’re coming.”
Krissin glanced at the coming Tartens, her face going carefully blank. “Take her to the ship, quickly and silently, but before they see her.”
Before they see me? But they already saw me, Senna thought.
Five other Guardians flanked her, including Cord. Krissin turned expectantly towards the approaching Tartens.
Realization exploded in Senna’s head. These Witches weren’t running, because they were allied with the Tartens. “No,” she gasped softly.
Crouched ahead of them, knives in both her hands, Mistin watched her.
“When you went missing before, you were retrieving your Witches.” It was not a question.
Mistin nodded, an apology and a promise in the simple gesture. Then she melted into the trees before them. Senna guessed she was acting as some kind of fore guard.
Cord reached out to take Senna’s arm. She jerked away. “How could you ally yourselves with them?” He gripped her tighter, relentlessly pulling her out of sight. She fought him every step. “And if you are allies, why haven’t you lifted the curse?”
“Because then Haven would know we exist.” Despite the fact that she could hear the Tartens conversing with the Witches, she continued to fight him. He hauled her around to face him. “Grendi has more than a horse’s weight in gold on your head. We can’t protect you if she finds you with us.”