Senna guessed Millay was the Head of Water sitting next to Fallin, as both women were dressed like warriors, though Millay looked rather old for it. Senna leaned toward Mistin. “I thought you couldn’t cross the barrier until recently?”
Her eyes never leaving the Composer, Mistin answered, “We were never able to return, but our songs could, remember?”
Senna felt a stab of sympathy for the women who’d left Caldash. She knew what it was like to leave her home, knowing she could never return.
Ellesh looked up and her dark eyes met Senna’s. “That’s how we learned another Creator-touched had come into being. The cycle had come full circle—beginning and ending with two Witches of unequalled power.” Her voice dropped and she seemed to address Senna alone. “So you can imagine my dismay when I discovered you had aligned with Haven. I sent Mistin and Cord to fetch you if they could.”
The Composer’s gaze felt too intimate. Senna looked away. “It doesn’t have to be this way,” she said. “Let me talk to them.”
“You know they won’t listen.” Ellesh’s voice was thick.
Senna closed her eyes. Ellesh was right. Caldash’s alliance with Tarten had forever destroyed that hope.
Krissin cleared her throat. “I don’t see how you’ve broken our trust, Composer. We all agreed to this.”
Ellesh sipped her tea before carefully setting the cup down. “I bound Brusenna to a Guardian.”
Krissin winced. Gasps and murmurs of conversation flooded the room.
“But that’s only ever done by Witches who’ve married their Guardians!”
“The poor girl.”
“No wonder she refused to stand.”
Senna felt more than heard the unease from the Guardians at her back. A sharp spike of shame flowed from Cord.
One of the Heads spoke up louder than the rest. “Your actions served a higher purpose—surely we can understand that.”
Ellesh’s gaze was distant and unfocused. “I doubt Brusenna would agree.”
She felt the weight of their stares, the heft of their silence.
“On the brink of our war, we must think to the future. After we have defeated these Witches, we will ask them to join us, but we must give them something in return. One of them will take my place.”
Senna looked up sharply. Ellesh’s dark eyes were on her. “Haven will need some proof of our intentions. Brusenna as our Composer will accomplish that.”
Krissin said carefully, “Composer Ellesh, she is still a child.”
Ellesh grunted. “No. Just young. She will make mistakes, but no more than I did. Than I still do.”
Krissin opened her mouth to argue.
Ellesh held up her hand and stared Krissin down. “She is Creator-touched, Head. Have you forgotten what that means?”
Senna straightened under all the scrutiny. It meant she had been chosen by the Creators. She could hear the Four Sister’s songs, create her own songs. It meant power.
Krissin made no more arguments.
Ellesh stared at Senna and seemed to speak to her alone. “I offer you everything you’ve always wanted. A chance to change the Witches for good. A better way of living. Witches who are respected by their people. Witches who are powerful and good and do not abuse their power.”
Despite her animosity towards these women, Senna’s spirit stirred. Ellesh was right about much of it, but there had to be another way.
Ellesh lifted her tea. “To our Composer in Training.”
The women all slowly raised their cups and tipped them to their lips.
Through her stunned haze, Senna felt Cord’s worry and heard Mistin’s whispered voice. “Drink it.”
Senna stared at the brown liquid. She considered refusing, but what had Coyel said weeks ago? A position of power would mean the chance to change things—to protect the Haven Witches who survived. The power to make sure all the Witches were treated as equals. The mug felt as heavy as Senna’s heart as she lifted it to her lips. She forced down a couple of hasty swallows, but couldn’t finish the rest. It was too bitter. And somehow familiar, but she couldn’t place it. She suppressed a grimace as she plunked the cup down on the table.
Ellesh watched her. “You must finish it.” Senna tipped the cup to her lips and pretended to drink.
The Composer bowed her head. “After the battle is over, I shall step down, and Brusenna shall take my place.” She looked up at the many faces in the room. “If any object, I will hear you now.”
To Senna’s disbelief, no one did. Ellesh nodded. “Very well. Let it be written in the Chronicles of the Law.”
Millay rose to her feet, her hands splayed across the table. “As you know, I sent out orders this morning for our ships to stand ready. Even now, the last of our seeds and potions have been sent downriver. We begin moving out tonight.”