Witch Song (Witch Song #1)

Chapter 9

Senna and Joshen exchanged glances. "We must be close," she whispered eagerly.

Joshen's brow furrowed and he said loudly, "You mean you don't know exactly?"

"Shh!" Senna leaned in as the sailors cast glances their way. "I've never been there before."

Joshen lowered his voice. "Then how'll you find it?"

"I'll find it," she assured him.

He shot her a dubious glance before shrugging his shoulders. "Witches."

Senna smiled. He'd said it like a grudging compliment instead of an insult—like a friend might. Swinging her feet over the water, she handed Bruke a piece of her roll.

After they finished their meal and replenished their supplies, Senna and Joshen agreed to put a little more distance between themselves and the Hunters before nightfall. They'd traveled about half a league north of the city when darkness fell. They ate their food while a chilly wind blew the smoke from the fire into their faces.

Finished, Senna laid her bedroll on the ground next to Joshen. His brow furrowed in confusion.

Her cheeks flamed scarlet. She spoke quickly, her words tripping over each other in her embarrassment. "There aren't any trees to sleep in. And I thought it might be chilly. Plus, people wouldn't be as likely to stop."

His eyebrows rose higher. "So ... you want to share blankets?"

Her mouth fell open. Had there been any ground cover nearby, she'd have gladly sung it over her head. She tried to speak, but it came out as a croak. Shaking her head, she realized showing him might do more good than stammering around.

She dug a hole in the ground and filled it with a seed the size of a small plum. After she'd replaced the dirt, she sang.

Oh shelter seed, I sing to thee,

Take up thy boughs and cover me.

A tiny, gray shoot burst forth. It grew flat, like the blade of a shovel. Yawning wider, it stretched until it encased them both in a tight shelter, like an overturned dish.

She smiled weakly. "It's called a Shelter Seed. It takes on the characteristics of the landscape to hide the inhabitants and provides instant shelter. But if you want, I can sing an opening and you could sleep outside."

Joshen stared at her in a mixture of awe and fear.

She felt hot and uncomfortable. What if he said no? She hadn't meant to flirt with him. She'd only thought he'd want to be out of the wind. "I should've asked," she said.

He swallowed. "I'd like to stay. If that's alright."

She nodded and flopped down, banging her shoulder on the hard ground. Suppressing a groan, she lay perfectly still. Eventually, their body heat warmed the shelter and she relaxed. Joshen's breathing deepened. She exhaled the last of her tension. She didn't know why, but though he wasn't much older than her, there was a sort of undeniable strength about him. A strength that shielded her like a warm blanket. After she was sure he was asleep, she finally whispered, "I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too," Joshen surprised her by responding.

***

At dawn, she awoke to Bruke's furry body warming her stomach and Joshen warming her back. His arm was thrown over her shoulder. She lay there, reveling in the strange, wonderful burning that emanated from Joshen's touch. Although she loathed to leave the warmth of their shelter—or Joshen—she carefully moved his arm and pushed herself up.