After drying her hands, the Composer reached inside a satchel and pulled out a book. “This is what remains of an account by Jolin Lyon, Head of Plants and a friend to Lilette. It was transcribed by one of her grandchildren. The account itself has been rewritten numerous times as the books have fallen apart.” The spine cracked and the pages rustled like dry leaves as Ellesh opened it to a marked page.
“We died by the thousands,” she read. “Buildings collapsed around us. Lightning and hail attacked any who dragged themselves from the wreckage. The Circle failed. Lilette braved the storm, creating a Circle alone—as none had ever done before or since. She rose into the rending sky, lightning slamming all around her.
“She sang. Lights came to life around her until it hurt our eyes to look upon her and we were forced to hide our eyes.
“Suddenly, the storm stopped—was pushed back. The sun broke through the clouds and she said, ‘I thought we were ready. I was wrong. But someday a Witch will become the kind of woman the world needs. Wait and watch. For on that day, the Witches will rise from our own ashes and the world will be reborn.’”
The Composer shut the book. “Lilette had moved Calden much further south and wrapped a protective barrier around the island. She was never seen again.”
Senna washed her hands in the dirty water. “And you think I’m the answer—that I was born to save you?”
Ellesh chuckled. “No. Heroes are not born. They make themselves. The potential to save the Witches has rested in many—including Espen. Are you the one Lilette spoke of? Perhaps, but I’m not going to wait to find out.
“We have been planning our escape from this island for centuries. In cursing Tarten, your Witches pushed the two of us into an alliance. Then you proved the barrier could be destroyed. We won’t find a better time.”
Senna dried her hands. “But Grendi hates Witches.”
The Composer studied her. “Exactly. But the only thing she hates more than Witches is Haven’s Witches. I agreed to restore Tarten and destroy her enemy. She’s in no position to barter for more.”
Thinking of all the women she’d left behind—her mother foremost among them—Senna closed her eyes. “And what makes you think Tarten will keep that promise?”
“Because if they don’t, I’ll sink all their ships and their lands won’t be healed.”
With Tarten’s army backing them, the Caldash Witches had more than enough strength to destroy Haven. And the Heads were ignorant to all of it. “What do you know of the Witches on Haven? Have you met them? Have you seen the good they do?”
Ellesh nodded toward Tarten. “You can say that after what they did to Tarten? If we don’t destroy them, they will annihilate every nation who crosses them.”
Senna folded her arms across her chest. “You would be different, would you?”
”Yes.”
“Then be different now! There are innocents on Haven—Witchlings and Apprentices.”
Ellesh hesitated. “Has your Head of Water not taught you that there are always casualties in war? Do any of them deserve to die?”
“Ironic that you would punish Haven for the same crime you plan on committing.” Senna voice was tight with anger.
Her movements stiff, the Composer replaced the book. “After Haven has surrendered, Grendi will turn the survivors over to me. They will be grafted into Caldash.”
“You cannot justify the murder of many by the saving of some.”
The Composer looked angry. “You freed us, Senna. When you cursed Tarten, you provided us with the army we so desperately needed. Your part in this is undeniable. You are also Creator-touched. I would not risk harming you. Nor would I risk facing you.”
Senna wondered if now was the time to act, to sing and warn Haven. But she was inside a tree. There was no clear path for the Wind to escape intact.
“They are hard decisions, Brusenna. Decisions someone has to make.” Ellesh sighed. “Perhaps if I fail to restore the world, you will have your chance.”
While Senna hesitated, the old woman backed to the door and spoke to the Guardians on the other side. “Bring Cord.” She studied Senna. “Mistin has told me much about you. Your Discipline Heads fear you. Your peers mistreat you. Your Guardians oppose you.”
Shaking, Senna faced her. “You’re cruel.”
“You don’t trust me, Brusenna. I can’t fault you for that. After all, I don’t trust you. Only a fool would leave a threat such as yourself in our midst, especially since we don’t know how strong you shall become. Some have urged me to lock you away deep in the earth—bound and gagged until Haven has been defeated. Or simply killed outright.”