by Amber Argyle
With an enormous effort, she kept her face blank. “Joshen…”
He sighed and gave Sunny’s coat another swipe. “Just give me this, all right? We’re going into danger I’m not sure I can protect you from—” He cleared his throat. “Please.”
She reached out and took his hand. “If he throws me, I’ll be dead either way.”
Joshen didn’t laugh at her attempt at humor. “He’s not mean—just lively.”
“Lively, right.” Senna tried to smile but it came out as more of a wince. “You bought him? For how much? And when did you have time to get a horse from your father?” His father lived three days journey from Corrieth, and Joshen didn’t make much coin as a Guardian.
“I had him brought up weeks ago. And it’s none of your business how much I paid for him.” Joshen sighed. “He was always meant for a gift, Senna. But now, he’s part of an apology, too. I’m sorry for leaving you on the island when you needed me most.”
Joshen had given her the most beautiful and most dangerous horse in the world by way of an apology. “I told you to go with Arianis.”
He shook his head ruefully. “That was definitely one of those times when I should have ignored you.”
She swatted his arm. He grinned and leaned towards her. She took a step back and his grin slipped.
Someone shouted for her from above. A sailor peeked down the stairs. “Brusenna, Leader Reden is looking for you.”
Joshen motioned for her to go. “I’ve got to tend the horses anyway.”
She sighed. “We’ll finish this later.”
19. A Guardian’s Sacrifice
Senna emerged from the ship’s hold and blinked into the sunshine. Stepping onto the deck, she promptly strode on the hem of her dress and pitched forward. Right into a pair of strong arms. “Oh, I’m sorry!”
The unfamiliar man steadied her but made no move to let her go. She looked up and lost herself in nearly black eyes of a tall, golden-skinned man with long dark hair tied back with a string. His beauty stunned her. Her heart hammered, but not just because of his looks. This was…something else.
“Senna?” Reden said.
She sprang away from the stranger’s arms and wiped her suddenly sweaty hands on her dress.
Mistin jogged up to them. She had changed from an Apprentice’s plain green dress to a loose-fitting tunic and trousers. “Senna, have you met my brother?”
Her face burning under Reden’s scrutiny, Senna shook her head.
“Cord, this is Brusenna, but she goes by Senna because she wants to be new and better.”
His eyes were still locked on her. She saw the resemblance. He had Mistin’s almond-shaped eyes, though his face had sharper planes. He was shorter than Joshen but taller than Reden, with a wiry build. His dark eyes seemed to weigh everything around him. And they were weighing Senna.
She cleared her throat. “Do I know you? You seem familiar?”
He grinned and his face went from brooding to handsome in a moment, but it was a dangerous kind of handsome. Senna could tell he used his beauty like a tool—an adept tool. “I think I’d remember meeting you.”
Mistin glared at him. He turned his dazzling smile on her. She rolled her eyes. “Ignore him. He’s a bit of a flirt.”
Reden cleared his throat. “If you two will excuse Senna and me.”
Mistin grabbed Cord’s arm and hauled him towards the bow.
Reden watched them walk away. “He doesn’t just want to help us. He wants to be your Guardian.”
Senna lifted an eyebrow. “Another one?”
Reden shrugged. “We could use the help.”
She studied Cord. “Is he any good?”
“He’s somewhat competent.” Reden said something in Tarten.
Senna glanced askance at him. “What does that mean?”
He hesitated. “A poor soldier’s worse than no soldier.”
Senna absorbed this before saying the words that had been bearing down on her since they’d left the island. “Why did you come with us?” she asked softly. “Because of me, you lost your place as commander of the Tarten armies. And now you’ve lost the Leadership of the Guardians as well.”
He spoke carefully. “We teach our Guardians to protect their witches—sometimes from their own folly. That includes the Heads. Three times, you were attacked by strangers on the island. I’m convinced someone with a lot of power is helping them. That means there’s a traitor. And if there’s a traitor, there’s some kind of treachery afoot.”
He studied her, his gaze steady. “It all comes back to you, Senna. You’re the key to this. So I’m going to follow your lead.” He rested his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be Leader of the Guardians again, because we’re going to save the Witches from their own foolishness.”
She tried not to wince. “Are we doing the right thing?” After all, she’d betrayed those who trusted her. Had risked her mother’s happiness and Joshen’s love.
“One can’t sacrifice a higher law for a lower one.”
She stared at him.
Reden nodded to himself. “When you’re in that moment of decision, where right and wrong are so mixed up you can’t tell which is which, always remember to follow the higher law.”
It’s what he’d done when he’d sacrificed his home country for the world. “But how do you know which law is higher?”
“It’s usually the decision that’s harder at first, but better in the long run.”
She digested that quietly.
He rested a hand on her back. “Now, how about we lend these sailors a hand mending the sails?”
Senna glanced at him, startled. “You can sew?”
He chuckled. “If I didn’t mend my clothes, who would?”
“But you were the Commander.”
Reden’s warm eyes studied her. “I wasn’t always, Senna. Once, I was a lot like you.”
***
It was the middle of the night when the cabin door creaked open. Senna’s breath caught in her throat, but she couldn’t see anything through the darkness clinging to her like pitch. Above the rhythmic sounds of the ship, she heard nothing. She considered reaching over and waking Mistin, but that might alert the intruder that she was aware of his presence.
She reached for the dagger she kept in her seed belt beside the bed.
“Senna, it’s just me.”
She recognized Joshen’s whisper and sighed in relief. He crossed the room and crouched beside her bed.
“What are you doing?” She glanced at Mistin, who hadn’t stirred.
“We need you to sing.”
Taking one of the spare blankets, she wrapped it around her shoulders and led him from her cabin.
She started towards the bow, but he pulled her back. “Are things all right between us?” he asked.
Her head dropped. “I don’t know.” Which really meant no.
He shifted awkwardly. “Well then, how do I make it right?”
“Joshen…” She sighed. How could she explain this so he would understand? “I have never believed in myself. Maybe it was because I was taunted as a child, and I came to believe those taunts. Eventually, I didn’t need the town bullies anymore—I did well enough belittling myself.”
In the moonlight, Joshen’s sad eyes nearly undid her, but she continued. “After that, I never had to believe in myself. I had you to do that for me.” She went on, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s not all your fault, Joshen. This isn’t really even about you. I want to be strong. I want to believe in myself. Give me some time to learn who I am.”
His mouth pressed in a thin line, and she hesitated. She hated confrontation. Her instinct was to pretend things were fine. But that wouldn’t help anything. “I’m not sure I can trust you. You would have stopped me from leaving Haven.”
Joshen dragged his hand through his hair. “I was just trying to keep you from getting hurt. And it’s not like you’re perfect.” They were both silent for a while. “So I’m just supposed to accept that I mi
ght lose you?” His voice was thick with anger.
She rubbed her face. “I am Witch born. It’s what I am.”
He took a step towards her. “What you are is my love.”
Her shoulders drooped. “Oh, Joshen. You fell in love with a Witch, and there’s a cost for that.” Her father had paid with his life. “It’s even worse for you, because I’m becoming something more than a Witch. I don’t know how or what, but I’m not sure any of us will come through this without paying a price.”
Joshen turned away, his muscles bunching beneath his shirt. “I know. I’ve known for weeks. But I can’t pay that price, Senna. I can’t.”
She fought to keep her emotions below the surface. “You’re going to pay it whether you accept it or not.”
A shudder ran through him. Without looking at her, he strode towards the hatch. “My watch is up. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Senna watched him go. She wanted to call out to him, beg him to banish her dread with the comfort of his arms, but he wasn’t ready. And maybe she wasn’t, either. Somewhere, she’d lost herself…or maybe she’d never really found herself to begin with. At any rate, she had to learn to love herself wholly before she could love anyone else. “Good night.”
She went to the front of the ship and sang to the wind until it gusted behind her, whipping her loose hair into her face. With a sudden burst, the wind caught her blanket and tore it away from her. She lunged for it, but it was already out of reach. Gasping, she cursed and whirled towards the wind. As if sorry, it snatched her hair from her face.
The damp sea air cooled her hot skin. But it also pressed her thin shift against her body. She wouldn’t be alone on deck. Captain Parknel always kept a lookout in the crow’s nest in addition to the man at the wheel. She felt eyes on her. Straightening, she saw Cord watching her, his musket leaning on the railing beside him.
He must have relieved Joshen. Cord hefted his musket and came towards her. Hugging herself, she ducked and started towards the cabin.
“Wait.”
She picked up her pace.
“Wait.” He took her arm.
She kept her face averted.
Gently, he turned her face towards him. He was silent for a time. “What’s it like?”
Shifting uncomfortably, Senna stared at the deck and wished he would let her go. She couldn’t explain the strange feeling she had whenever he came near. “What’s what like?”
“Singing like…that, to the Four Sisters.”
The question caught her off guard. No one had ever asked that before. She closed her eyes. Wind was like a half-wild colt—full of wild energy. Earth reminded her of an old man with arthritic bones—slow and sleepy. Water was like a temperamental woman—full of secret moods and hidden places. Sunlight was a playful child—subject to sulks and fits of laughter. And plants…She shrugged, not sure she could share something so intimate with a stranger.
“Well, plants for instance,” she finally replied, “They’re reliable. Like your favorite musket, I suspect.”
Cord folded his arms, pleased with himself. And Senna realized he was trying to distract her from her frustration. It had worked—she wasn’t upset anymore. The realization surprised her. She didn’t think Cord the type to care about another’s feelings.
He rubbed his palms together uncomfortably. “I— did he hurt you?”
She was glad the darkness hid her blush. “Joshen? Of course not.”
Cord raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then why were you upset after he left?”
She refused to look at him. “He hurt me a while ago. I guess you could say we’re still trying to get past it.”
Cord cast a glare at the stairs that led below decks. “Your Guardian should be more careful of appearances. Someone might think there was something more between you.”
She shrugged. “There is.”
Cord looked at her more closely. “There— what? That’s allowed?”
“Does it really matter what’s allowed anymore?” Senna started towards the cabin. His hand shot out, gripping her firmly around her arm.
Startled, she turned towards him. He pulled her closer, close enough that her billowing shift brushed his clothes. “Next time you come out to sing, do it a little better clothed.” His eyes dropped down to look at her in nothing but her shift. The wind chose that moment to press it against her body. It took everything she had not to cross her arms over her chest.
When he looked back into her eyes, something passed across his face, something that shouldn’t have been there. Her body flushed with an uncomfortable heat. “You want to be my Guardian, you better learn to hold your tongue. And your gaze.”
Cord’s expression hardened, and he dropped his hand. “Good night, Senna.” He walked to the upper deck and didn’t look back.
Confused and angry, she watched him go. It felt like arrogance to assume he would want her. She was not beautiful—whatever Joshen might say. She was small, with startling golden eyes and matching hair. Strange more than beautiful.
He was at the railing now. And she was still standing in nothing but her shift, glaring at him. Remembering herself with a start, she moved back to the cabin.
She lay in bed beside Mistin, wanting nothing more than to sleep. But there was one last thing she had to do.
She listened to the Four Sister’s music. She didn’t try to fight it as her soul slipped from her body. Traveling its patterns, she stood before Espen. The woman’s branches sagged. She’d lost most of her leaves. “I’m coming,” Senna said.
Espen was more awake now. A blighted branch stretched forward and clawed in the dirt. “Tartens kill Witch on sight.” She scraped the empty space clear and wrote again. “Another enemy.”
Next, she wrote, “More dangerous than Tartens.”
“Who?” Senna asked.
“Songs,” Espen wrote. “Songs from a hidden land.”
Senna curled her arms around her body. “I’ll be careful.”
20. Senna’s Promise
Senna woke with a start to something that sounded remarkably like a dying frog. Mistin was attempting to sing to the wind. Where Senna’s song was strong enough to advance the ship for hours, Mistin’s was so weak she would have to keep up an almost constant barrage.
Senna buried her head under her pillow. The watch had woken her twice so she could sing to keep up their speed, and it had taken her hours to fall back asleep each time. She was still exhausted.
But there was no blocking out Mistin. With a groan of frustration, Senna pushed herself out of bed and found someone to bring her enough water for a bath. The tub was cramped and the water cold, but at least she wasn’t itching from salt water anymore.
She left her cabin and found the deck strangely empty. Parknel stood at the wheel with an expression she’d seen him wear when sailing into battle—like he was determined to go on through tempest, war, or Mistin’s singing. Senna chuckled to herself.
Reden and Cord stared at her with pleading expressions. Cord had stuffed wool in his ears. “For love of the Creators, can you make her stop?” he said.
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?”
