Joshen grunted as he wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Which way, Senna?”
She’d thought a great deal about this during her last, sleepless night on board the Sea Witch. She turned Knight toward the village they’d passed yesterday. “If Espen created a place like Haven, the Tartens would notice. We just have to find a way to get them to tell us.”
Joshen looked away. “The majority of Tartens don’t like Nefaliens. Parknel said their Chancellors imprison any Witch they find. You know that, right?”
Senna let Knight pick his way through the sand. “Well then, we won’t tell them I’m a Witch. Besides, if Nefalien merchants still trade with the Tartens, it can’t be too bad. We’ll ask some indirect questions at the small village we saw yesterday.” She hoped her voice sounded more confident than she felt. Ahead, a road traveling a little farther inland parted the dense jungle. She twisted to catch one last glimpse of the Sea Witch before the heavy foliage swallowed the ship whole.
Joshen fiddled nervously with his reins. “I suppose you’re right, but I don’t like it.”
Senna took stock of the jungle. So different from the forests of her home. Denser and more abundant, yet at the same time more fragile. She doubted a killing frost had ever brushed across these tender leaves. Even the smell of soil and growing things was different because of the heavy undercurrent of rot.
And something else. She sniffed—a lazy fire and fish. The trees thinned, revealing a house made of white mud with a thatched roof. Laundry shifted like tethered ghosts on the lines. A small garden grew fat over cleared ground.
“Senna,” Joshen said with an undercurrent of fear. She followed his gaze. She’d been so busy studying the strange house she hadn’t noticed a group of mounted figures in the distance. All wore blood-red coats with gold trim and buttons. Soldiers. At least six of them. A hard ball formed in her throat. Noisily, she tried to swallow around it.
He pointed to a smaller side road that led past the house, between two of the rounded mountains. “I think we’d better get off the main road.”
She didn’t argue as they turned south onto the rutted path. Even though it appeared little used, she had to maneuver Knight to the side to allow a dark Tarten man driving a mule and cart to pass them. He gaped at her in disbelief.
When they’d moved out of earshot, she whispered to Joshen, “He can’t possibly know I’m a Witch just by looking at me.”
Joshen’s brow furrowed with worry. “What if those soldiers are looking for you?” He licked his lips. “Maybe we’d better make for the ship.”
A bead of sweat ran down her back. She shuddered. “With the ship damaged like it is, Parknel can’t make a run for it and they’re in no condition for another fight.”
Twisted in the saddle, Joshen glanced back. At the look of horror on his face, Senna turned. She gasped. All six soldiers had followed them.
The man in the cart pointed at them and yelled something unintelligible. The six soldiers shouted an unmistakable command at Joshen and Senna. A few of their hands strayed toward the muskets strapped to their saddles.
Senna froze, her brain refusing to register what her eyes saw.
“Come on!” Joshen shouted.
Leaning low over Knight, she booted his ribs. He pushed off hard, throwing her back. She gripped the horn to keep from falling off. She glanced back. Muskets in hand, the soldiers pounded up behind them. But why? Why were they chasing them? She shouted so the wind wouldn’t whip her words away, “Maybe we shouldn’t run. It might just be a misunderstanding.”
A musket exploded behind them. Senna ducked. Her arm burned with the memory of being shot.
Joshen threw a look of disbelief at her. “That wasn’t a misunderstanding!” He shook his head in frustration. “Knight and Stretch can outrun them over the short distance, but they haven’t got their winds back! We have to hide.”
She risked a glance back. Joshen was right. The soldiers had already fallen behind. “How long?”
He didn’t look at her. “Not long.”
The air whipped past Senna, tugging tears from her eyes as she searched for a break in the impregnable jungle. Knight’s breathing already sounded ragged.
The path suddenly veered right. Pulling the reins, she leaned into the turn and spotted something half-hidden within the trees. She squinted. Buildings that blended with the shadows far beyond the path. She looked back to see how close the soldiers were. The bend blocked her view. But if she couldn’t see them, by the Creators, they couldn’t see her either. She pointed. “Joshen!”
Joshen brought Stretch around hard and they galloped to the closest building’s blind side. Earth sprayed the walls as he jerked his horse to a stop and jumped from the saddle. He threw his weight against the door to open it. A flock of brown chickens took to the air in an explosion of feathers.
Senna burst into the barn and jumped from her horse. A wide-eyed cow bellowed and backed away from them. A couple of plow horses whinnied and stirred inside their pens.
Joshen jammed the bar home, plunging them into near-darkness. “Can you quiet them?”
Her voice barely above a whisper, Senna sang.
Peace I sing,
No harm I bring.
The animals settled, leaving only the sound of their horses’ panting. Shafts of light shone between lashed-together reed walls, illuminating swirls of dust. Running to the other wall, Joshen peered between the reeds.
If this was a barn, the other building must be a house. If a farmer alerted the soldiers to their presence, all would be lost. Senna hurried to the opposite side. She held her breath as she waited for Joshen’s cry of alarm or the sight of a frazzled farmer emerging from his house.
Joshen let out a sigh of relief. “They just passed us.” He leaned his head against the reeds.
Senna let out all her breath. Movement behind the door caught her eye. Her inhalation turned into a gasp. “Joshen, a man’s coming,” she hissed as she ran to his side.
In one step, Joshen reached Stretch and unstrapped the musket. Senna didn’t know how he managed a steady hand as he loaded the gun. She could barely grasp the pea-sized seed she withdrew from the little compartment in her seed belt.
The door flung open, half-blinding them with light. Joshen leveled the barrel at a man’s chest. With a cry of surprise, the man held out his hands and said something in a language Senna didn’t understand.
Joshen took a few steps forward. “Do you speak Nefalien?”
The man’s eyes widened in shock before resting on Senna. His gaze raking across her clothes, lingering for a moment on her seed belt. “Witch?”
There was no point in hiding it now. Cautiously, she stepped out from behind Joshen and nodded.
He looked over their horses and pressed his lips in a thin line. He rattled off again in Tarten. Senna listened hard but couldn’t understand a word of it. Jerking a halter from a nail, he threw it on one of the plow horses. Using the stall as a ladder, he jumped on. He gestured for them to follow him. “Cheche.”
Joshen shifted his grip on the musket. “Senna?”
She weighed the farmer, his ragged clothing, dirty bare feet and wiry frame—a man who earned every bit of his bread with the sweat from his body. Would he try and sell them? But she had no sense he was a ruffian. Nor was he starving. Only overworked. “The soldiers will search for us once they realize we’ve disappeared.”
Joshen lowered the gun. “Fine, but he stays in front.”
Senna swung onto Knight’s back.
Smacking his plow horse’s rump with the lead rope, the man took off down the road. It started to rain. But it was unlike rain Senna had ever experience. More like a dam had been opened from above. There weren’t any raindrops. Only sheets of water. And the rain was warm.
At least the air didn’t feel so heavy.
Trying his best to keep his powder dry, Joshen kept an eye on the man while Senna watched the road ahead. Suddenly, the man veered onto a path wide enough for a single h
orse. They continued for another half-league before he pulled his plow horse to a stop. He pointed ahead.
Peering around Joshen, Senna saw another tiny reed home set in the trees. She turned back to tell the man she didn’t understand, but he was already galloping back the way he’d come—the ground thundering a little with each step his enormous horse took.
“Well?” Senna asked.
Joshen shrugged. “He didn’t lead us to a garrison of soldiers.”
“It could be a trap.”
He studied the house. “How? The man didn’t know we’d hide in his barn.” Seeming to have made up his mind, Joshen urged his horse forward.
Fear sharpened Senna’s senses. Myriad sounds played on her ears—the drumming rain, pigs rooting a little farther in the forest, the garden calling softly for her song. Without really knowing why, Senna answered.
Take in light, take in air,
Spread thy roots, thy leaves grow fair.
No sooner had her song ended than a man appeared from the other side of the house, his face awash with wonder. “You’re a Witch,” he said in perfect Nefalien.
The groaning and stretching plants behind him seemed to emphasize his words. Senna tilted her head to the side as she studied him through the heavy rain. His skin was slightly lighter than the other Tartens. Could he be part Nefalien? “My name is Senna.”
The man held his hand over his mouth as if to hold back his emotions. “For so long, we’ve hoped for the last.”
“Who’s hoped?” Joshen asked suspiciously.
The man startled when Joshen spoke, as if he hadn’t noticed him. “Nefalie isn’t the only land with Witch friends. And no one enjoys Chancellor Grendi’s taxes.” Wiping rainwater from his face, the man took off at a jog toward his home. “My name is Kaen. Come. We have much to do!”
“Hold on, man!” Joshen exclaimed. “What do you intend to do?”
Kaen shot Joshen a withered look. “Help you, you fool! The whole country is crawling with soldiers looking for her. Now move! We haven’t time to delay!”
“How did they know I was coming?” Senna asked.
“How should I know?” The man disappeared into his house.
As she dismounted, Senna cast a nervous glance down the path. Were the soldiers already searching for them? Afraid they might suddenly appear, she lifted her skirts and hurried after Kaen.
Joshen blocked her entrance to the house with an outstretched arm. Adjusting his grip on the musket, he slid inside. Immediately, he lowered his weapon and gestured for her to follow. Once inside, she felt a measure of relief—from the rain at least. She didn’t think she’d ever escape the heaviness. It was a small room. Woven baskets filled with fruits and salt fish lined the floor. There were no tables or chairs, only a slab of wood surrounded by more woven mats. From the ceiling, herbs hung limply. A smell she didn’t recognize made her eyes water and her throat itch.
Seemingly frozen in their various tasks, a woman and five dark-eyed children shot them looks of disbelief. In rapid succession, the wide-eyed woman fired words at Kaen, who was in a side room. She gripped Senna’s hand and pulled her toward the room Kaen had disappeared into. “Cheche.”
Joshen grabbed Senna’s other arm. “What are you doing?”
Ignoring him, the woman kept tugging Senna toward a room.
Senna wasn’t sure why, but she trusted this man and his wife. They weren’t acting like people trying to hurt them. As far as she could see, they were taking an immense risk by offering aid. “Joshen, I think they’re helping.”
“Her name is Valicia.” Kaen gestured to his wife as he reappeared. He thrust well-worn, colorful clothes into Joshen’s arms. “If you value your life, put those on.”
Valicia let loose another series of words. Three girls jumped to follow Senna into the side room. It appeared to be a mass bedroom. Every available space was crammed with neatly rolled mats and lidded baskets.
As soon as the door shut, they undid her cloak and began yanking on her dress. Embarrassed, Senna pulled the dress over her head. It hadn’t even hit the floor before a vibrant tunic was hauled over her shift and wide, loose trousers held open for her. The woman wrung out Senna’s dress, wrapped it up tight and handed the bundle to the oldest girl. After exchanging a few words, the girl disappeared out the door.
Unscrewing a jar, Valicia scooped up a handful of brown paste. She rubbed it vigorously between her hands and smeared it on Senna’s face, neck and arms as another daughter wound a cloth over Senna’s golden hair. They plunked a hat over her head. The moment they’d finished, they hauled Senna out of the room.
She stopped. If she didn’t look too closely, Joshen’s skin appeared nearly as dark as the boy’s standing next to him. The strange tunic and loose trousers fit oddly on Joshen’s trim figure.
Kaen gripped the boy’s shoulders and said something in Tarten. “Come! We must make haste!” The boy ran outside, jumped on Knight and grabbed Stretch’s reins.
“What are you doing with our horses?” Joshen seemed more concerned than suspicious.
“Taking them as far away as he can. If the soldiers find them here, they’ll know I’m helping you.”
Senna watched in disbelief as Kaen’s son disappeared down the jungle path. “But he’s just a boy.”
The man grunted. “Yes, but he’s more a man than most.” Diving back into the rain, he took off at a run toward the mountain rising sharply behind his home. “Don’t move in a straight path. Don’t break the vegetation. We can’t risk them seeing your tracks.”
21. DEEP AS A GRAVE
Senna groaned and clutched the stitch in her side. It appeared Knight wasn’t the only one to go soft over the sea voyage. But she didn’t dare slow or waste her breath complaining. The moment she’d stepped into the trees, the air had grown more humid until she felt like she was breathing water instead of air. But at least the hat kept the rain off.
At first, the jungle’s thick, broad-leaved plants had been nearly impenetrable. But the farther they ventured, the more scarce the undergrowth became. Senna had never seen trees like these before, with wide, buttressed bases and thin bark. They had almost no branches until high above her head. Even during breaks in the storm, no light filtered through the high canopy of trees. Strange, startling cries sounded all around them. Enormous bugs dove in from all sides to bite and sting. And there were snakes. Big ones.
By the Creators, she thought, I want to bury my head in my arms and hide.
Just when she’d given up all hope of stopping, Kaen halted next to a sharp incline. Bending down, he tugged at a flat rock. “Help me!”
Hunching down, Joshen heaved. After a great deal of grunting, the rock slid to the side, revealing an inky black tunnel. “Get in and don’t come out until I come for you. Understand?”
Senna shot an anxious glance down the dirty tunnel. “I could sing for the trees to take us high.”
“That’s one of the first places they’d look for a Witch,” Kaen responded. “If you want my help, you must do as I say.”
Senna shuddered as she peered inside the cramped tunnel. Who knew what kind of bugs lived in the dark? Not to mention she would be buried under miles of solid rock. “I’m not sure I can go in there.”
Joshen wriggled in and set his musket beside him. He held out his hand. “Come on, Senna. I’ll be right here with you.”
She took a step back. “Joshen, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Come on.”
Her chest felt tight and she couldn’t seem to draw enough air. “No, I can’t.”
His hand dropped. “Senna, stop it! You’re not afraid to jump into the middle of the ocean and chase after a whale or traipse after the most powerful Witch in history, but you can’t hide inside a hole? Now get in here, before I come out and get you!”
Senna took a deep breath and held it, then squirmed in next to him. The bottom of the hole was lined with a woven mat, which might have helped if it hadn’t been musty and dirty. The man tosse
d Joshen a small leather bag. “There’s some fruit and water inside. Use it sparingly. I don’t know when it’ll be safe to pull you out.”
He positioned himself behind the rock. Joshen helped to roll it over them. Senna watched the last of the light disappear. As her eyes adjusted, she made out roots dangling white above them. She stretched herself out and her toes brushed the end. “Not much deeper than a grave,” she murmured.
“Well, at least we’re out of the rain.”
Senna grunted. Then, something tickled the back of her neck. “Joshen!” Frozen, she held her breath as numerous legs wriggled over her skin. “On my neck!”
He snatched the bug. “Ouch!” He hurled it against the wall. “It bit me!” He pounded it with the flat of his hand. Senna shrieked. What other things resided, unseen, in the dark? She began to tremble uncontrollably.
Joshen sucked his finger. “A Witch afraid of bugs?”
She buried her head in her hands.
Without a sigh, Joshen gathered her in his arms and stroked her hair. “I’m sorry. I was just teasing. It’s okay, Senna. It’s just a little hole in the ground.”
Joshen’s arms were so warm and comforting. She leaned into him. Eventually, her whole body went slack. She woke sometime later and lifted her head from Joshen’s chest. Her hair was plastered to her head with sweat—her whole body was sticky with it. She tried to peer into the dark, but it was pitch black. Night, she realized. And it was still raining as hard as ever. She looked back at Joshen, but could make out nothing other than his deep, even breathing. Snuggling back in his arms, she eventually fell asleep.
When she opened her eyes the second time, she caught Joshen gazing at her. He quickly looked away. “How’d you sleep?” he asked.
Feeling awkward, she pushed herself off his chest. To her dismay, it was still raining. “After I finally settled down, I did much better.”
“And the arm?”
It had been almost two weeks since Wardof had shot her. She tested her range of motion with a roll of her shoulder. “It doesn’t hurt unless I strain it.”