Witch Song (Witch Song #1)

Chapter 31

Senna felt the heat of the soldiers' stares. She forced herself to remain stoic. What was he going to do? "Wait for what?"

He stepped back and gripped his wrists behind his back. "For my soldiers to find the five Witches and the man you sent away." He leaned toward her. "I have been a warrior for my entire life. Don't think you can outsmart or outmaneuver me. I don't want to kill any of you. But I will. Do you understand?"

Senna backed away and looked toward the jungle. "I'm not a leader; why are you telling me this?"

"Because it was your idea." Reden followed her gaze. "Don't worry. My men will not kill anyone unless they use deadly force."

Joshen would certainly try. She swallowed hard. "How many soldiers did you send after them?"

Reden caressed his musket with his palm. "Send? I sent no one. You were surrounded long before you saw us coming."

Gunfire echoed off the side of the mountain. Senna whirled toward the jungle. Reden began rattling off commands in Tarten. Within moments, a group of armed men headed toward the sound.

Senna's hands flew to her mouth. He's right. It was my idea, she thought. Even now, were bullets piercing those she'd helped escape? "Oh, Joshen," her lips mouthed behind her fingers.

***

Joshen felt torn in more ways than one. Splitting up gave them a better prospect of someone making it through. But how could he leave them? He was a Guardian and if giving his life gave them a better chance, he wouldn't hesitate—though he hoped with every fiber of his being it wouldn't come to that.

At the sound of voices, he flattened himself. The others followed his lead. He studied the thick tangle of trees, watching for movement. He didn't have to wait long. Soldiers were riddled throughout the trees. Waiting for them. The only way they could be in front of them so quickly was if they'd been there all along. Cow dung! His plan disintegrated.

As a group, they'd all be caught. "Split up! And if you're captured, don't give them a reason to kill you!"

He darted hard to the right. He'd try and avoid them along the outskirts, hoping they'd focused their strength on the most obvious path of flight. He was a fast runner. He ran low to the ground, taking long, sweeping strides. He knew how to move quietly. Above his own soft noises, he watched and listened.

He paused at the sudden sound of a Witch song. At least one of the five was in trouble and fighting back. He wanted so badly to go back and help, but he had to get through. He had to get help!

He darted around a large tree and saw a cluster of red. Diving under a fern, he pressed himself flat against the ground and waited. He counted to fifteen before chancing a look. They hadn't seen him. But if they didn't find him soon, they'd start tightening the noose and sending more soldiers. If he wanted any chance to escape, he had to take it now.

He was grateful for his dirty shirt and even more grateful the soldier's red tunics made them so easy to spot. He waited for his breathing to quiet before crawling forward. Placing his hands and feet with extreme care, he inched away from the pocket of soldiers. A little farther, the ground disappeared before him.

At some point, the rains had cut a deep swath through the soft Earth. Dry now, it would provide excellent cover. He looked back at the soldiers. If they'd discovered it, they'd watch it. But if not, he could run flat out. Too tempting, he thought. Senna would be more cautious. At the thought of her, he had to fight the impulse to run back to her. They better keep her safe, or they'll have more than Tarten soldiers to worry about.