Something prickly like a squash vine gripped her wrist. She gasped and pulled away. In one wrench, Joshen snapped the vine.
“I needed to keep you awake,” she said shyly.
“Senna, I’ve never been more awake in my life.” He jerked free of another vine circling his knee. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He took her hand and they ran through the barbus as the plant reached lethargically toward them; both of them afraid if they stopped or slowed, they’d fall asleep.
The barbus ended as suddenly as the tangled trees had begun. Warily, Senna scanned for any other dangerous plants, but all she saw was a jungle. Rubbing at her burning lungs, she glanced skyward. Like a great amethyst seamed with gold, the dawn spread along the horizon.
They had been running all night.
Senna stumbled the last few steps to the base of an enormous tree. Joshen collapsed beside her and immediately set about making her tea. Absently, she handed him fruit from her pack.
At the touch of his hand, the memory of his kiss vibrated in her. She brushed her fingertips along her lips. Could he ever long for her as she did for him? Tears came to her eyes. She realized Joshen was staring at her. The desperate look on his face unnerved her. Was she mistaken, or was their genuine panic in his eyes? “What’s wrong?”
He stabbed the fire with a stick. “That kiss—it was just to save me?”
Senna felt her face grow hot. He didn’t love her back; his panic confirmed that. It was just like Joshen to protect her. She closed her eyes tightly. She could never again pretend she didn’t love him. She knew it and now he knew it. She shook her head violently. Pain shot through her skull. She cried out. Sobbing, she tried to scramble away, but his hand snaked out and held her. “Senna?”
“Why?” she choked, the words coming through her raw throat. “Why is it that I’m me? If I’d been anyone, anything else, perhaps you could love me back …” She forced herself to meet his gaze.
A disbelieving smirk crossed his face.
Her temper flared. She tried to jerk free, but Joshen pulled her to him, his smirk gone. He studied her lips like they were a riddle he desperately needed to solve.
All her senses were inundated with him. She felt the heat of his body next to hers, his breath against her skin. Somehow, he always smelled like leather, horses and the sea. But now, there was a hint of jungle and clean sweat. She couldn’t get enough. She could never get enough. Her whole body ached for him.
Slowly, he inched toward her. When their lips were so close she could almost feel his, he paused and changed course. She held perfectly still as he kissed the edge of her jaw. She gasped softly as he moved to her neck. She wanted to lose herself to the heat blazing through her, but doubt still stung her. Determined to ask him, she pushed against his chest.
He chuckled dryly. “I guess I’m lucky. If you knew how incredible you are, you’d never settle for the likes of me.”
Senna’s body lost all resistance. Joshen guided her to the ground. He paused to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’ve been wanting this every day since the moment I met you. I love you, Brusenna. And I need to hear it from you, because I couldn’t bear it not being real.”
Senna wanted to say it, but she just couldn’t. “I’ve wanted it since then, too.”
It must have been enough. Joshen pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She felt the weight of his chest, the steady thrumming of his heart against hers.
Was it just her imagination, or did they tangle together and beat as one?
26. GOODBYES
Drowsily, Senna watched as light and shadow played hide and seek through the leaves. She’d wanted more, but Joshen had stopped it before they’d gone too far. Still, her lips felt bruised and her cheeks slightly tender from the few days’ growth on Joshen’s face—but it was a welcome pain. She was within Espen’s realm now and she didn’t care. Nor was she afraid. In fact, this was the happiest she’d ever felt.
“How could a woman like you love a man like me?” Senna turned to see Joshen watching her as she’d watched the shadows.
“I’ve been wondering the same about you.”
He lifted himself up on his elbow. “You can’t mean that.”
She shrugged as she traced the outline of his jaw, loving how strong and muscular he was.
He watched her carefully. “What you said about Ciara, you actually meant it? I thought it was just the bump to your head?”
Senna sighed. “She is so beautiful—”
He pulled her roughly into his arms. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Senna. And I won’t hear you berate yourself. You do it far too often.”
“You really think I’m beautiful?” she murmured.
“Yes,” he said tenderly.
Senna waited for a sign he didn’t mean it, but she saw only naked honesty in his eyes. Desni had been right. And if this was her only day left, she’d spend it in Joshen’s arms. When evening came, everything would be different. With a sigh, she fell asleep listening to Joshen’s heartbeat.
Just after sunset, she lifted her head and studied Joshen’s peaceful face until his eyes blinked open. He looked at her with a smile. “Mornin’ beautiful.”
She rested her chin on his chest. “Actually, I think it’s night.”
He stroked her hair. “So, what do we do tonight?”
Senna sighed and looked away. The enchantment was over. Brushing herself off, she stood. “I need you to trust me.”
He eyed her warily. “And the catch?”
“I’ve had nightmares every night for over a year. For the first time in a long time, my dreams have been untroubled and I … I want to thank you for that.”
“Senna,” he warned as he stood to face her. “It sounds a lot like you’re saying goodbye.”
She forced herself to hold her ground. “I am.”
His brows drew down dangerously. “Senna, you promised—”
“I won’t stop you from coming,” she interrupted. “I’m just asking you not to.” His stance relaxed. She hurried on, “If you come with me, I’ll have to protect myself and you.” She took a deep breath and blew it out. “If she captures you, I’ll surrender. It’s that simple.”
“Senna, you can’t. Everyone needs—”
“What everyone else needs won’t matter. I can’t watch her torture and kill you any more than you could watch her hurt me.”
His eyes widened. “You love me that much?”
“Yes,” she replied. “And knowing that you’re alive somewhere … would comfort me during my imprisonment.”
“You say it like it’s already happened,” he said in exasperation.
How could she make him understand? “Somehow, Espen is gleaning strength from the other Witches. She’s much stronger than I. And more experienced in a duel. She’s defeated every Witch, alone or in groups, who has ever crossed her path. This was never about winning, it was about ending it.” There, she’d said it. The truth she’d been avoiding for so long.
He gestured back the way they’d come. “If you can’t win, come with me. We’ll hide from her and—”
“No.” She shook her head, her voice gentle, but firm. “I won’t be a coward. Her defeat is not impossible, only difficult. I must try.” She felt the tears in her eyes and wished she could banish them. “For my mother. And the others.”
Joshen wrapped her in his arms and kissed her in a way that almost convinced her to run with him. To spend whatever time remained loving him. But the magical day had ended and reality was staring her down. When their lips parted, Senna rested her forehead against his. “Please, Joshen. Please stay. Wait for three days. If I don’t come back, find a way out of here and live your life.”
“I’ll stay,” he finally managed, though his voice broke. “But I won’t leave. If you don’t come back, I’ll come get you, even if only to join you.”
Senna looked away, knowing he still didn’t understand. “You can’t come where she’ll take me. Understa
nd … if she wins, I’ll only see you again if I agree to join her. And I never will.”
“Senna, I can’t abandon you.”
She gripped his arms. “You have to. It will be all I have left.”
He bowed his head and Senna could tell he was trying not to cry. It tore at her heart, but this, her fate, had been awaiting her for years. She was beyond mourning it now. In a way, it was a relief. The end drew near. All that mattered was Joshen’s safety.
“All right,” he finally relented.
Relieved, Senna gripped him tightly. “I need to hear you promise it, Joshen. Please.”
“I promise,” he managed.
Drawing herself up on her tiptoes, she kissed him. She stepped back and tried to burn his image into her mind. It would be both a comfort and a torture; but not being able to remember his face would be worse. “Goodbye, Joshen.”
“Goodbye, Senna.”
It was hard, so very hard to pick up her pack and walk away from him. But each step she took made it easier. She paused to look at him once more before he was obscured by the trees. He stood like granite, his fists and jaw clenched tight. Tears flowed freely down his face. He made no attempt to brush them away.
A sob caught in Senna’s throat. After all they’d been through, she’d never seen him cry. But he had cried for her. He loved her. And it made what she was about to face that much easier and that much harder. Easier because she wasn’t alone. Harder because now she had something to lose.
27. WITCH FIGHT
Evening faded into dusk and dusk into night. A full moon shone down, casting the world in silver and slate. Everything grew to gigantic proportions, from the ferns to the flowers. It was an odd, intoxicating mix of the forests of her home and the jungles of the Tartens—beauty that belied the danger Senna faced. A Witch’s habitation, if ever there was one. She found no comfort in this. The flows of nature were all wrong, grating against her like a high-pitched squeal.
The deeper she wound into Espen’s lair, the more the trees shifted and groaned, as if whispering furtive secrets. But no matter how hard she strained to catch the words, the meaning escaped her. More than once, she paused to study them. They were unlike any other trees she’d ever seen. Sort of like a weeping willow, except the leaves formed a faultless circle. Each tree bore one piece of perfect, white fruit. In wonder, she reached out and cupped one. The fruit vibrated like a beehive inside her hand. The whole tree trembled and pulled away. Senna jerked back. That wasn’t fruit—and these weren’t trees. Not really.
But if not trees, what were they?
The possibility drove away her gaze. But then she caught sight of one tree. It, more than all the others, seemed somehow familiar. Unable to look away, Senna moved toward it as if in a trance. She stretched out to touch it. The whole tree strained forward. Branches wrapped around her shoulders, holding her tenderly against bark that felt as soft as skin. A hauntingly familiar scent warmed her. She suddenly understood. “Mother,” she said breathlessly. “It can’t be!” But it was. Senna had no doubt. She rested her forehead against the unnaturally pliable bark. “What has she done to you?”
The limbs caressed her back, stroked her hair. Stepping back, she surveyed the other unnatural trees. Each of them must be a Witch. Some, like her mother, trembled in excitement, reaching toward each other, whispering. Others stood stiff. Carefully, Senna approached one of the still ones. She held her hand against its rough bark. It showed no signs of recognition. “You’ve been here much, much longer, haven’t you?” That’s why Espen couldn’t search for her. She had to watch her new prisoners.
Senna backed away with a shudder.
How had Espen done this? No seed Senna had ever heard of could turn flesh into trees. Perhaps it was some kind of potion—something like Ioa. Espen must immobilize her prey and then force them to consume it. So the key would be defensive seeds. Seeds that would keep Espen at bay … at least at first. After, Senna would have to find a different way to combat her.
A wisp of hope grew within her. Perhaps this knowledge might help her where the other Witches had failed.
She felt a branch at her back, gently pushing her back the way she had come. She turned to face her mother. “No. You couldn’t stand back and watch her capture your friends. And I can’t leave you like this. Not while I have the strength to fight. Besides, maybe, just maybe, I’ll defeat her.”
Her mother sagged, her lovely, gleaming branches trailing on the jungle floor.
Senna’s heart sank. Sacra had sheltered her from this fight her entire life. She’d always believed her mother was trying to protect her, but what if she was simply afraid Senna’s song wasn’t strong enough … and never would be? She turned away from her mother and the others. Senna felt the call of the Ring of Power. With tears welling in her eyes, she moved to answer it. Shafts of light appeared, growing into beams the closer she came to the clearing. At the edge, still in shadow, she paused and thought ruefully how exactly her dream mirrored reality.
Her dream. Terror squeezed the air from her lungs. In the dream, Espen always defeated her.
Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, Senna forced herself to step into the moon-bright clearing. Willing her stride not to falter, she climbed the gentle rise toward the center. Just like in her dream, Espen emerged from the opposite side and strode out to meet her.
A few paces apart, both women stopped and faced each other. Senna was surprised by Espen’s beauty—somehow, it seemed wrong that someone so evil should be beautiful. Her waist-length, dark hair shifted softly in the wind. Her skin was impossibly clear, with a smattering of innocent-looking freckles across her nose. Senna was dressed after the manner of the Witches, in shades of green and gold—the colors of life and growth. Espen wore a black cloak with a red dress—the colors of death and blood.
Desperate to make the first move, Senna threw a barrier seed and started singing it to maturity. Not very original, perhaps, but the tree would protect her from anything physical Espen grew. Espen smiled—the smile of a starving woman about to delve into a table of delicacies. She also threw down a barrier seed.
Senna would have liked to grow her barrier tree a little bigger, but she didn’t want to lose the advantage of her slight lead. Her deft fingers dove into a pocket of her belt and grabbed a handful of seeds as small as sand. Her song changed.
Wind, carry my seeds upon thy back,
Toward the Witch with purpose black.
The wind gusted past her, twisting her hair around her face. She threw the seeds high into the air. It caught them and carried the majority past both barrier trees, where they pelted Espen like the gritty wind before a storm.
Senna immediately switched her song.
Thine, with vine of thorn,
Bind up Espen, her song to scorn.
The vines shot up around Espen’s ankles. Espen ignored them. Instead, she focused on Senna, her song a soft murmur. The Witch threw something in the air. Senna saw the wind catch a white powder as fine as flour. She had time to do little more than suck in a deep breath before the powder engulfed her.
The powder seemed to stick to Senna’s sweat. It burned and stung as though driving needles through her skin. The worst pain was in her eyes. She barely had the presence of mind not to gasp and fill her lungs with the toxic stuff. She wasn’t sure what the powder was, but she knew she had to get away from it. She couldn’t sing if she couldn’t breathe.
Senna stumbled back, her eyes on fire. Without any other option, she shut them and ran blindly away from the defense of her barrier tree. When she’d finally freed herself from the choking vapor, she turned frantically to find Espen. Through her tear-filled eyes, she saw the Dark Witch nearly covered in vines. Only her face remained uncovered, her mouth working frantically.
Desperately trying to catch her breath, Senna staggered on her feet, her hands reaching inside her seed belt. But before she could form a song on her lips, she felt a presence behind her. Eyes wide, she whirled to face this n
ew threat.
In an instant, she realized what Espen had done. The powder had driven her away from her barrier tree—her physical protection—toward another barrier tree. One Espen had been busily singing to life while Senna’s thine had been binding her.
The great tree stretched toward her. Senna dove to the side. She felt the whoosh of air as a branch barely missed her. She scrabbled madly to get away. Feeling another branch coming, she dove. But this branch whipped out at the last second, cracking across her ribs.
She felt like she’d been branded by a white-hot iron rod. Gasping, she twisted away from the scrambling branches’ hold. She was nearly out of the tree’s reach. She’d just managed to get her feet under her for the second time when the tree stretched out, wrapping one of its longest branches around her ankle. It snatched her up so fast it felt like she’d left her stomach on the ground that was fast falling away from her.
It flicked like a whip, sending her careening end over end through the air. She saw ground then sky, ground then sky, moving together so fast they blurred together.
And then her whole body hit the ground. She felt herself flatten, her bones vibrating and stretching to absorb the shock. The blood in her veins sloshed madly. The air was forced from her lungs in an inhuman cry. Then all was blackness.
She wasn’t totally unaware of herself, though. She knew there was pain, but in the same way she knew the sun was hot. It was far away and only tendrils of it reached her. Gradually, she became aware of movement all across her skin. A kind of cold slither. She tried to make sense of it, but making her mind work brought her closer to the pain.
Still, she knew she had to wake up. Had to or die. As she forced herself to think, she realized suddenly the cold, slithering feeling was vines moving around her.
And then her mind formed one word—Espen. That shocked her out of unconsciousness. She opened her eyes. Her body did a quick assessment of its injuries. Nothing broken. But terribly strained and bruised.
She tried to push herself up, but the vines had been hard at work. She knew instantly that these were not Thine vines. Those had vicious, hooked thorns to discourage their prisoners from wiggling free. No, these were simple bindweeds and grasses. But they’d been circling her by the score.