“Stop your whining,” Joshen chided. “I’m carrying you; do you hear me complaining?”
Desni wheezed and panted behind them. “Well, this old woman is complaining plenty enough for the three of us.” She rested her back against a tree. “Some outlaws we make. An old woman, a tiny, injured Witch and a boy.”
Joshen bent to pick up Desni.
She waved him away. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t carry us both.” She pushed away from the tree and plowed forward, albeit at a slower pace. For a long time, all Senna heard was the tramping of Joshen and the old woman’s steps. Then Joshen stiffened beneath her and half-turned toward the city.
Senna strained to hear what he had. Her heart dropped to her toes. Baying dogs. Joshen and Desni exchange worried glances. Senna scrambled from his back. He moved to pull her up again. She neatly sidestepped him. “I can run for a little while.”
He hesitated before nodding for her to follow Desni. “I’ll take the rear.” The three of them ran flat out.
After only a few minutes, Desni stumbled and her breathing came in great, wheezing gasps. When they rounded the last of the domed mountains, she collapsed beside a fallen tree. “From here, you can find it on your own.” Shakily, she pointed to the right of the next mountain. “Get past the Tangled Trees. If you can make it that far, not even the dogs will follow.”
“We can’t leave you!” Senna exclaimed.
His face grim, Joshen said, “I’m going to create a false trail. You two rest here.” He took off in a different direction.
Desni smiled weakly. “He loves you. As much or more than any man has ever loved a woman. Seeing it brings me hope.”
Senna felt the blood drain from her face.
Desni chuckled at the look on her face. “Too insecure to believe it? The way he looks at you, as if daring anyone to harm you. Yet he is as gentle and loving as you’ll allow him to be.”
A pain began in Senna that had nothing to do with Wardof’s fists—a deep, throbbing longing. She tried to rub it away. “I’m small and plain. He is so strong and handsome.”
Desni shot her a look of disbelief. “You’re a beautiful girl, Senna. More so because of how rare your features are. Those golden eyes—”
“But when compared to someone like Ciara—”
“Bah!” Desni exclaimed. “You compare diamonds to rubies. Rubies may be a bit more flashy, but diamonds are made of tougher stuff and are more rare.”
Senna looked up as Joshen crashed into sight. “That should buy us some time.”
Grabbing a gnarled stick, Desni struggled to her feet. She jabbed it in the direction they were to go. “Follow the slope of the land.” Using her makeshift cane, she hurried off in the opposite direction. Senna grasped her shoulder. Desni shook her head and smiled. “Don’t you worry about me. They’ll give me a lift back and feed me until you defeat Espen. Then you can break me free.”
Joshen tugged on Senna’s arm. “She’s right, Senna. I can’t carry her and she can’t run anymore. Let her go.”
Images flashed in her head. Lery, Bruke, Ciara, the young mother, Desni. Countless other sacrifices. For what? Releasing her, Senna gave Joshen a look that said, “If I fail, see to it.”
He looked away in exasperation but nodded anyway.
Desni hurried away. Senna wanted to call her back, tell her to hide, anything. But her words congealed in her throat. Hiking up her dress, she ran ahead of Joshen. The leaves whipped her.
Plants of the forest, make a path for me,
For through this forest, I must flee.
After I pass, hide my trail,
For an enemy I must quell.
The plants gathered behind them, blocking the path to those who might follow.
She forced herself to keep going, but she wondered how much longer she could push herself before her body stopped obeying. The sound of dogs drew steadily closer. When it split and shifted, Senna guessed the soldiers were following Joshen’s false trail and Desni. But it wasn’t long before the sound was behind them again. Senna clenched her fists. The soldiers wouldn’t hurt a little old Tarten lady? Would they?
Suddenly, a bark sounded close behind them. Turning to look, she tripped over a vine and fell. Joshen pulled her up. She looked into his eyes and knew they couldn’t outrun them. But there was something else in his gaze. Tenderness. She couldn’t deny that Desni was right—he loved her. But did the old woman mistake brotherly love for the love a man has for a woman?
Senna struggled to her feet. Her legs felt numb and her lungs raw. Sweat ran down her temples before streaking down her neck.
Joshen must have seen her exhaustion. He ripped a limb from a dead tree and rounded. “Go on, Senna! I’ll keep them off!”
If she left him alone, he’d die. At that moment, saving everyone else from Espen seemed trivial in comparison to saving Joshen. Her chest heaving, she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him.
“Senna! I said go!”
She glared at him. “You made me promise not to leave you, remember?”
He waved the stick at her. “This isn’t what I meant!”
“Then you should’ve phrased your words more carefully!”
There was no more time for arguments. The dogs streaked through the trees, their baying increasing to a fevered pitch as their quarry came into view. Reaching inside her belt, she drew a barrier seed. She forced a hole in the soil and pressed the seed down. “Back up.” She gripped Joshen’s arm and pulled. As she moved, she sang.
Take in light, take in air;
Spread thy roots, thy leaves grow fair.
She repeated the song over and over. A green shoot burst from the Earth. Within moments, it was taller than Joshen. Just a few more songs, she thought. The first dog sprang past the tree. Joshen swung the tree branch, catching it in the ribs. With a yelp, it backed out of his reach and barked like mad.
Too late to grow it to full maturity! Senna’s song changed into something deeper and darker. It wasn’t a song so much as a chant—this was where the insult “Chanter” came from. She cringed at the animosity and menace in her voice.
Let nothing pass.
The dogs slowed, sensing the danger, but not understanding it.
They didn’t have time to do more than flinch as the tree’s branches wrenched them from the ground. Barks of excitement changed to howls of terror as they writhed to free themselves. But the tree didn’t pause as it flung them back in the direction they’d come. Tails between their legs, the others fled, terror in their eyes.
Senna sang again, forcing the barrier tree into full maturity. It became oddly quiet and then the rustling of brush reached through the stillness. Patches of red appeared through the trees. The soldiers were here. Her mouth went dry. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat in preparation for her song.
Joshen tightened his grip on the branch. “I wish I had my musket!”
Through the shadows, moonlight slanted across the face she feared more than Espen. Wardof sifted through the jungle, his gaze pinning her in place. He came into full view. He lowered his shoulders and pressed forward. Senna waited until the men around him were in the shadow of its branches. “Senna?” Joshen warned, but she didn’t budge as she timed her next move.
Understanding dawned on Wardof’s face. Fear replaced his malice. Senna gave him no time to fully understand his danger. Her song burst free.
Let no one pass!
As if a sudden wind whipped the branches, the tree came alive, snatching up red-coated soldiers. For the briefest moment, it seemed to bear strange, red fruit, before it hurled them into the air. No sooner had it loosed one than it picked up another. Everywhere, men were running, dodging tree branches and shrieking.
Bullets whizzed past Senna’s head. She didn’t stay to watch. Clutching Joshen’s arm, she ran.
25. TANGLED
“Did the tree get Wardof?” Joshen panted.
Too out of breath to answer, Senna slumped to the ground. Her head ached like some
one had dumped gravel into her ears and shook her.
Joshen took one look at her and started gathering kindling. “You need some more of that tea.”
The jungle seemed to slide sideways. Her stomach twisted. Wardof. Was he still after her? “I didn’t see,” she managed after a few deep breaths.
Joshen dropped handfuls of leaves in a little jar of water and nestled it in the fledgling flames. His gaze kept darting from the tea to the jungle that surrounded them. “That was really amazing, Senna. What exactly can’t you do?”
Senna grunted, her throat too raw for a proper laugh.
Joshen dipped his finger in the tea and sucked in his breath. “Yup. Plenty hot.” Using the corner of his blanket, he pulled it from the fire and wrapped it up before handing it to her. Without bothering to strain it, she sipped. She fished out a few itnot leaves and held them to her eye. Within moments, she felt better—as if her body healed itself as she drank. Tipping the jar, she drained it and wiped her mouth. She leaned back against a tree as the remaining ache lifted from her head. She sighed with relief.
Her relief was short-lived.
A cord yanked across her neck, cutting off the blood to her brain. She clawed at it. It tightened. She choked and gagged. She scratched at the sausage-like fingers holding the cord. Garg. Joshen lunged for him, but Wardof grappled him from behind. The two rolled to the ground. Senna twisted. Garg pulled her in tighter and wrapped his legs around her torso.
Air! She had to have air!
She rammed her elbow into Garg’s paunch. He let out a gush of air, but managed to hold tight. Senna scrabbled to gain her footing, but Garg had the advantage of position and size. Her vision turned red. In a cascade of sparks, blackness edged in.
The cord around her neck went limp. She gasped and coughed. Garg forced something between her teeth. In one quick jerk, he tied a gag.
After a few deep breaths, her panic receded and her senses returned. Garg had feared her song. But he’d underestimated the rest of her. Her fingers searched through the rotting foliage. She found something hard and rough. Twisting, she smashed the rock into his temple. He reeled back, stunned.
Rock still in hand, she ran, but she hadn’t managed two strides before he grabbed her from behind. Scraping her shoe along his shin, she stomped on his foot and threw her head back. She felt his nose crunch.
Garg released her and stumbled back. Twin ribbons of blood flowed from his nose, forming a crimson mustache.
I should’ve finished this long ago, she thought grimly.
He lunged for her, grasping her forearm. But this time she was ready with a small seed. As he came at her, she stepped into his arms and shoved the seed into his mouth.
His eyes widened in fear. He desperately started spitting and clawing at his tongue. But the seed imbedded itself on contact with a human mouth. If he wanted it out, he’d have to carve out his own tongue and it was fast becoming too late. Vines sprang from his mouth. Garg clamped his jaw shut, but it was too late. He vomited vines that circled his body like a green shroud.
Senna watched, her anger mounting. What had she ever done to Garg, Wardof, any of them? They’d taken everything from her! Everything! They would not take Joshen! She yanked at the gag. But Garg had tied it so tight her jaw ached. Her lips cracked and bled, but it wouldn’t budge.
She whirled to see Joshen and Wardof still struggling. Frantically, her fingers flew to the knot—a hard, unyielding ball. She couldn’t see what she was doing! She wanted to scream in frustration, but all she could do was work at the knot as she watched Joshen and Wardof pummel each other.
Joshen broke free and shoved Wardof. Before Wardof could recover, Joshen was on his feet, careful to position himself between Wardof and her. Wardof charged. Joshen stepped forward and twisted until his back was to Wardof. Senna’s heart sank, but Joshen simply gripped Wardof’s arm and heaved while bending over. Wardof slammed into the ground, stunned. Joshen’s fist smashed into Wardof’s temple. He went limp. It was over.
Joshen glanced at Senna. The fury in his eyes melted. Rushing forward, he pulled his knife and sawed at the knot until it came free. Easing her jaw open and shut, she rubbed her neck.
“You alright?”
Wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth, Senna nodded. “You?”
He groaned. “Few broken ribs. Could be worse.”
Senna’s eyes fell on Wardof. Hate simmered inside her. Reaching inside her seed belt, she drew a seed exactly like the one she’d used on Garg. “By the Creators, I should’ve taken care of this long ago.” Stepping forward, she crouched beside the man who had taken so much from her. It wasn’t hard to slip the seed between his open lips. She watched while it took root, covering his entire body. When it was finished, Senna sighed and stood.
“What was that?” Joshen asked, a trace of fear in his voice.
Senna didn’t take her eyes off Wardof. “Bindweed. It’s more like a parasite than a plant. It feeds off its host, but in return, nourishes him. There are only two ways to escape.”
Joshen bent down and touched the hard shell. “And they are?”
“For the Witch who entrapped them to sing them free. And I’ll never release them.” Senna found her pack and walked in the direction Desni had pointed.
Clutching his ribs, he hurried to catch up. “And the other?”
She paused. “Death.”
So this was what Desni meant by the tangled trees. Senna studied the wall that stretched higher and wider than the surrounding jungle. Branches knotted together in snarled clumps. An impregnable barrier. One that should have taken dozens of Witches to create. Espen had done it alone.
Senna shivered. She could feel Espen’s taint strongly here. The harmonious rhythms of nature felt off-key and jumbled. Senna was so tired her toenails hurt, but beyond the tangled trees lay safety—from the soldiers, at least. She sang a rather simple song.
Plants of the forest, make a path for me,
For through this forest I must flee.
After I pass, hide my trail,
For an enemy I must quell.
The branches unraveled, leaving a low, narrow tunnel.
“Of course,” she muttered. “Another dark, bug-infested hole.” Too exhausted to care, she stepped inside. The branches wove closed behind her, cutting her off from Joshen. She could barely see him through the thick growth. Singing, Senna stretched for him. The branches parted from her. Joshen gripped her hand and the branches widened enough for him to step inside.
She let go. The branches closed on him, binding him like the strongest ropes. Surprised she stopped singing. The branches closed on her as well. She grabbed his hand again and sang hard. The branches retreated. Clever. Espen had made it so even a Witch with an army couldn’t pass.
With Senna holding Joshen’s hand tightly and singing, she peered into the gloom and tried to guess how far the tangled trees went on. Nothing but the unnatural darkness. With a sigh, she started out. Hunched over as she was, it wasn’t long before her back began to ache. She could only imagine how much worse it was for Joshen, tall as he was. Breathless, she paused. The branches closed on them—binding her, stealing her air, cutting her off. It felt worse than the tunnel Kaen had hid them in.
Though her mouth felt like parched Earth, she didn’t stop.
How long she plodded forward, Senna didn’t know. When they suddenly stumbled free, she blinked rapidly at the blinding light. She snatched the canteen and drank hard and fast. Wiping the water from her cheeks, she turned to see Joshen frozen in place, his eyes glassed over. And then she smelled it. Heady, sweet, tropical. Exotic orange blossoms sent her eyelids plunging downward. Barbus.
With a sharp intake of breath, she shook Joshen. “Breathe through your mouth!”
“Hmm?” His eyes were already closed, his breathing deep and regular. The barbed vines stretched toward him.
She couldn’t go back. Not into the darkness again. That left no way but through. Gritting her teeth, she san
g.
Barbus, I command thee retreat.
No more to carry out thy dark feat!
Gripping his hand, she hauled him forward. Automatically, he stumbled after her, eyes still closed.
Though she was careful not to breathe through her nose, her feet grew heavier. Each time she blinked, it was harder to open her eyes again. Her head ached, her body ached, her very soul seemed to ache. All she wanted was sleep. Her grip on Joshen’s hand weakened. He slipped from her grasp. Shaking her head and forcing her eyes open, she saw him lying peacefully among the barbus, its poisonous vines reaching for him.
If she didn’t do something now, he’d die.
Collapsing, she tried to lift him. He didn’t budge. “Joshen. Joshen, wake up.”
Her breathing unnaturally deep, she watched the barbus encircle them like a snake. “I can’t shleep,” she slurred. “Josshen’ll die if I shleep.”
Through the heavy fog in her mind, she searched for a song to wake him. Then she remembered a lullaby her mother had sang to awaken Senna as a child. Stirring herself, she sang.
Awake my love,
Open thy eyes and rise above.
Come to me, come to me, come, come along.
For my love will keep thee strong.
His eye lids fluttered before he settled back to sleep with a sigh.
It wasn’t strong enough. How could she make a Witch song stronger? Some deeply buried memory surfaced. Her lips gathered a residue of power from the song. What if?
Bending down, she pressed her lips to Joshen’s.
His eyes flew open. Senna pulled back, her heart hammering wildly inside her. A slow smile spread across his face. “Now that’s something to wake a man up!” He pulled her mouth to his.
Joshen lips were like every other part of him. Strong and gentle, caring and protective. He tasted like wind and musket powder. She found herself wanting to stroke his chest, his arms. But she held back, unsure what his reaction might be.