29. APPRENTICE
Back ramrod straight, wrists resting on her knees, Senna sat inside the Ring of Power. Spaced at even intervals all around her were the Witches who had recovered from their imprisonment, while those not yet in full possession of their minds docilely waited where they'd been led, eyes glassed over.
Arianis was among them. Senna had learned from one of the other Witches that, though Arianis wasn't much older than Senna, she was the second-most powerful Witchborn in the last century.
Coyel stood in the circle's center, in command of the proceedings. Though her hair fell damp down her back and her dress hung heavy with water, she was still an imposing sight. Drawing herself up to her full height, her eyes zeroed in on Senna. "I remind you all, our ceremonies are sacred. We do not discuss them with outsiders or even our own Witchlings. Failure to obey this rule will have serious consequences."
Shame burned Senna's cheeks. She knew the words had been for her alone and the other Witches knew it, too. Her ignorance of the workings of the Witches felt like a brand on her forehead.
Coyel spread her arms skyward. "Keepers, we have a great deal to repair this day. Much of our world has gone awry since last we fought to preserve it. And while it will take years, we must begin restoring the lands to their former rhythms." Her gaze rested upon Senna. "But first, we must choose a Witch to serve as our channeler."
Surprised eyes turned toward Senna. She itched to squirm under the heat of those penetrating gazes.
Sacra lifted a hand in protest. "She's not ready, Coyel."
"To be a channeler, she must be a full Witch. She hasn't even been initiated as a Witchling," Drenelle added.
"Does she have strength enough to serve as a channeler? If not, the act itself could kill her," said the Head of Water, a woman Senna had heard the others call Chavis.
Coyel turned to Prenny. "Well, does she?"
Prenny twisted down a rose-colored glass as though dreading what it might tell her. "She's got the strength," she said reluctantly. "She's a Level Seven."
Gasps and exclamations shot around the circle.
"A Level Seven!"
"We've only had one Level Six in the past decade!"
"She can't be stronger than Arianis! It's impossible!"
Senna felt her mother's shocked gaze on her. Coyel squatted in front of her mother. "Why didn't you tell me this?" she whispered.
"I saw no signs of a Level Seven."
"What's her affinity?"
Sacra shrugged. "Plants."
Senna leaned toward them. "I don't understand."
Coyel shot Sacra one final look of exasperation. Then she whispered to Senna, "Only one other Level Seven was born in the last century." Her lips were pressed in a grim line.
Senna's eyes widened. "You mean ... Espen?"
Sacra looked away. Coyel nodded. "Your song is the strongest one here. It makes the others nervous."
For the first time, Senna wondered if the Creators had given her a gift or a burden.
"Well, then," Chavis said with a shrug, "let the girl. She's certainly earned the right,"
"I'm with her mother," Prenny said. "She's not ready."
Coyel turned to Senna. "The vote is split. That leaves it in my hands." A murmur of protest rose from Drenelle and Prenny. Coyel silenced it with a wave of her hand. "She entered her apprenticeship when she defeated Espen." The two pressed their lips together but offered no further protest. Senna sensed the other Witches in the circle exchanging uneasy glances.
Seeing her supporters go silent, Sacra's raised hand fell.
Coyel stood before her. "But I know so little," Senna whispered.
"All are naïve before knowledge finds them," Coyel whispered back. Taking her hand, she pulled Senna to her feet and claimed the patch of grass she'd vacated. Settling her damp skirt, Coyel looked up expectantly.
Senna searched for signs of disapproval from the other Witches as she made her way to the center. Most held no expression aside from intense concentration. The moment Senna reached the center, the Witches gripped each other's forearms. With a boom, the ground beneath her surged. The shockwave whipped the trees, nearly laying them flat. A great cylindrical barrier rose into the night sky. Shimmering like an aurora, it stretched to the highest levels of the atmosphere. Senna felt the strength of the barrier, pulsing with power as unyielding and tough as the strongest fortress walls.
A tendril of thought brushed her mind. Surprised, she concentrated on the strange presence. Coyel's voice vibrated in her head, When the time comes, I'll supply the songs you must sing. For now, remain silent. Senna realized the joining of the Sisters' arms connected more than their bodies. Their minds were now linked.
Coyel provided the song they should sing. As a single voice, the Witches sang softly.
Espen's betrayed us and plotted our demise,
Filled the Earth with her enclave of lies,
And so we release from her previous calling,
Espen the Witch, her authority falling.
A feeling like a string being plucked from a tapestry twisted inside Senna. Espen had been cut off. But it was more than being blotted out. It felt more like the Dark Witch had never existed.
As the echo of their songs faded, another song rose.
Brusenna risked her all
So the Witches would not fall.
For her courage, we seal her birthright,
A Keeper after the Discipline of her choosing this night.
The vibrations of the Witches' voices rolled toward Senna in waves. The waves condensed within her, filling her with song until her whole aura glowed and her body tingled.
The songs burned to be set free. The knowledge of what she needed to do came as naturally as breath to a newborn. She had to hold them. Tightly. She waited, knowing she didn't have enough song, not yet. The Witches' cadence increased, as did their volume until Senna couldn't bear it another moment. Her body went rigid and her face flung upward. The other Witches abruptly stopped singing as Senna's own song began. Even to her own ears, the sound was sweeter than any she'd ever heard.
I am a Witch. Mark me.
With the power of a dam breaking, Senna's consciousness expanded through the other Witches to include the Four Sisters—Earth, Water, Sunlight and Plants. With minimal effort, she felt her connection to them as naturally as her fleshy appendages. For their part, the Four Sisters accepted her dominion naturally—the Earth like a shovel in its flesh, the waters like a net cast into their depths, the plants like a fruit plucked from their boughs and the sun like another creature to shine upon.
A tingling began on the side of Senna's navel. Without seeing it, she knew a crescent moon now adorned the right side of her navel. Knowledge of what it was grew within her. The crescent moon—one piece of the whole. Senna was now part of the Witches.
The mark of an Apprenticed Keeper.
She finally belonged somewhere.
The power of the first song grew cold, a feeling like the warm sun setting on a chilly day. But the Witches weren't finished. Another song began, one with a much different purpose than the first. This time, Senna felt the Witches gathering power from their songs—directing that power to right the wrongs Espen had committed. It was similar to the songs Senna had sung many times, but now she had the strength to see it was done.
Four Sisters—Earth, Water, Plants and Sunlight,
Our order and control upon thee's been scant.
But now with authority and power irrefutable,
We command thee to return to order most suitable.
Seasons stay in place,
Winds blow in pace.
Weather hold to thy climes,
Plants keep thy times.
Chaos and disorder cease,
All settle and return to peace.
The song continued, growing stronger. As before, Senna sang its release. As her last note settled, she felt the song travel across the Earth through her newfound connection—a connection that also told her the Witches could never undo all the damage Espen had inflicted. Many, many of the creeping, crawling things had died, or would in the coming months. And more would fail before the song could take full effect. A crushing sadness shrouded her. Never again would those animals and plants be found upon the land.
Only two songs and already Senna felt exhausted. Still, more work remained. Smaller matters that needed attention. The singing wore on long into the day and Senna sensed a wholeness beginning to return to the Earth. Their work here was done—at least until spring, when their powers would reach their apex and they could finish the work they'd started in Tarten.
She waited for the circle to break. Her Keepers were tired; she could feel their exhaustion through their connection. Everyone was wet and hungry. But they didn't release their grips. Not understanding, Senna's gaze rested on her mother. Finally, Tiena, Desni's middle-aged daughter, broke the silence with her heavily accented voice, "Tell us of the Creators."
Ah, that was it. Tipping her head to the side, Senna concentrated on the heat from the sun warming her neck. "There were four of them—Earth, Water, Plants and Sunlight. Each was a living, breathing emblem of their respective domains. Earth appeared as a woman of ebony, Water had the slanted blue eyes and russet skin of the north, Sunlight was as fair and blonde as the rays of the sun and Plants was covered in freckles. From their long sinuous dresses, to the shade of their hair, to the tint of their eyes, the colors varied by the moment."
All the Witches were silent. Senna's mind was so full of the memory, she couldn't have spoken anyway.
"How much pain could they have stopped?" Sacra's words held a bitter edge.
"Don't, Sacra," Coyel said. "This life is not one to be without heartache."
"No," Prenny agreed. "That is for the next."
Coyel turned back toward the city of Zaen. Worry lines creased her face. "For now, we have finished our songs, but we still face Tarten. If only they'll let us pass unmolested."
In response, Prenny snorted.
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