Witch Song (Witch Song #1)

Chapter 15

15. SEA WITCH

 Gradually, the scent from Joshen's borrowed blanket overpowered Senna's exhaustion. Opening her eyes, she breathed deep. She thought of the things she'd wanted to say last night. But he'd refused to look at her and his face had remained hard and uncaring. She couldn't help but wonder if her decision over a year ago had cost her only friend.

 With a sigh, Senna took in the room. Nearly every available inch was packed with map scrolls or cases. She threw Joshen's blanket over her cotton shift and went to the window. Sure enough, she could see Pogg, just below the water, watching her forlornly.

It wasn't until leaving Haven that she realized how fond the creature had grown of her. The last of the Witches. As he was the last of the Mettlemots. She pressed her hand against the glass. "Go back," she mouthed. The thought of Haven completely abandoned made her stomach feel hollow.

A knock sounded behind Senna. Without thought, she said, "Enter." When no one said anything, she turned to see Joshen's surprised face.

He blushed and quickly looked away. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Senna looked back over the water, but Pogg was gone. She stepped away from the glass, watching as the moist outline of her hand faded. She tried to see past the impenetrable fog. "Did you need something, Joshen?" If he could be cold, so could she.

"I, uh—I just came to get some of Cap'n's things."

Setting down his blanket, she turned, searching for her pack. "That's not necessary. I don't expect the Captain to give up his cabin for me."

Joshen stuck his hands in his pockets. "No. Cap'n says you stay here. He'll sleep below decks with the rest of us."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "No. I couldn't—"

"Would you rather sleep with a bunch of men?" Joshen interrupted. "You'd have no privacy and neither would they. Come on, Senna, they'd be as uncomfortable with the situation as you would."

He was right. Looking out the window, she rubbed her forehead. Espen unraveling centuries of songs felt like abrasive on her already frayed nerves. "I can feel her influence stronger here. Like the aftertaste of a bad meal. Something about Haven must resist her songs more than most places." When he didn't respond, she felt the need to fill in the silence—an urge she'd never experienced around Joshen before. "I hope I'm as ready as I need to be."

"You will be."

He said it with such simplicity. A fact—not yet fulfilled. He had faith in her and he'd stayed. She suddenly felt ashamed. He deserved so much more than she'd given him. "Do you still wish to be a Guardian?"

"Yes," he breathed.

"And you understand the mark can be turned to a poison, should you betray your trust?"

"My father said as much in one of his letters."

She heard him coming closer. She felt his breath on her bare neck and shivered. "Yet still you wish it?"

"Yes."

She wondered if his firm answer came from of a need to protect her or his own ambition ... and why the answer mattered so much. She shook her head. He'd earned the right, regardless.

Turning around, she found his proximity disarming. Close enough she could feel the heat from his body, smell him ... Even after all this time, he still smelled like horses.

Hurriedly, she reached for her bag and held a glass bottle filled with a pale, waxy substance between them. "A Witch's lips gather power from her songs, amplifying the strength of her potions."