Witch Song (Witch Song #1)

Chapter 30

“He’s ordered them to open fire!” Tiena warned.

She’d no more than said it than Senna felt Chavis channeling the Witches’ energy toward the tree. It snatched muskets the moment the soldiers lifted them, breaking them as easily as if they were brittle pine needles. Hefty branches encircled the soldier’s waists and hauled them aloft. But the tree didn’t throw them. Not yet.

Senna pressed her lips together in frustration when she saw the same look of hate and anger in Methen’s eyes that had so long been present in Wardof’s. She shook her head, dust from her hair pluming around her like a veil. Chavis’ dark hair appeared to have been combed with an ash-coated brush. “Tell him if he, or any other soldier, chooses us for an enemy, we will kill them. Complete surrender and an oath to let us pass in peace. No pursuit.”

In response, Methen drew his knife and stabbed at the branch. Some of the other soldiers followed his example, while others struggled to set themselves free.

Chavis simply thought and the tree tightened its grip around the soldiers’ middles. Sharp cries of surprise and grunts of pain pierced the air. “Drop them,” she ordered the soldiers.

After a brief hesitation and another squeeze, knives clattered to the ground. Methen took a deep breath as his shoulders slumped. “I’m not your enemy,” Tiena finally translated.

The Witches sang and the tree dropped them. Rising to their feet, the soldiers cast furtive glances at the branches. As if the Witches very nearness might burn them, they shied toward the ruined building. Methen backed away with the rest of them. “We surrender.”

Chavis nodded.

The Witches had taken the entire city without shedding a single drop of enemy blood. Senna signaled to Joshen, who ran toward the ruined building. When he emerged, he held Desni’s blue-veined hand in one hand and in the other, a musket. He had a smug smile on his face.

A cry erupted from the Witches. Tiena rushed forward and wrapped her arms around her mother’s withered frame. Both had heads of gray, both were bent with age, one more so than the other. The two women cried and hugged each other. Desni pulled back and faced Senna, “Thank you. Now I can pass on in peace.”

Senna inclined her head toward the old woman.

“I’ll stay here with my mother and heal my own lands,” Tiena stated.

Coyel exchanged a concerned glance with Chavis, who touched Tiena’s shoulder. “Methen’s loyalty is to the government. You know this.”

Tiena glared at the commander. When she spoke, Desni translated, “Your loyalty should be to your people. I can help.”

Methen squared his shoulders, obviously drawing courage. “If my superiors order me to apprehend Witches, I’ll do so.”

“Cowards hide behind orders,” Coyel murmured. With a shake of her head, she spoke to Tiena, “It won’t be safe for you here. Perhaps the best weapon we can wield against Tarten is our absence. Espen has kept these lands in fair order; let us see how long Tarten lasts when that is gone.”

Chavis turned back to the Captain. “The Witches will be in Nefalie when your government is ready for us.”

Desni stood rooted to the spot, staring at the city. Finally, she shouted something in Tarten. Softly, her daughter translated, “These are our lands. We must fight for them; the Witches cannot do it for us.” Without a backward glance, she walked away from her home.

As Senna turned to follow the departing Witches, she saw Boors lining the city walls, despair obvious by their slumped posture. Senna searched the faces, hoping she might recognize some who had helped her. But there were too many and she dared not fall behind.