Brusenna is the last.
All the other witches have been captured, their songs stolen and twisted from harmony and growth into chaos and death. She alone must stand against an evil much older and darker than anything she could ever imagine-an evil eve...
Stretch leaped over a fallen tree and hit the ground at a dead run. Foaming sweat ran down his shoulders and dripped from his belly. Judging by his breathing, his lungs were burning. By the time they finally left the trail and hit the sand, the animal's legs trembled like they might collapse at any moment. Joshen knew if he did, the horse would likely never get up again.
His heart wrenched with every stride he pushed from the horse. He would die running if Joshen asked him to, because the animal loved him. But Joshen felt Senna's danger. He had to hurry. Even if he had to run Stretch to death to save her.
Joshen rounded a patch of trees and his whole body sighed in relief. Parknel's ship was anchored not far from shore; fresh patches of new wood stood out against the black paint of the old. Barren stumps lined the shore, where swirling sawdust mixed with loose sand. It appeared all the fruit-bearing trees had been lightened of their load; Joshen suspected the reason the ship was still here was so the sailors could gather more food for the return journey.
He pulled Stretch to a stop. The horse trembled and shook beneath him. Joshen cupped his hands over his mouth, "Parknel! Captain Parknel!" He waved his hands over his head. But at this distance, the sailors appeared to be little more than bugs crawling atop a toy ship. It was a long way to swim. "Parknel!"
To his relief, a boat was finally lowered into the water. As it grew closer, he saw Parknel's grim face standing at the front of the boat. He cupped his hands over his mouth, "Senna?"
Joshen shook his head emphatically. "Captured!"
"The other Witches?" Parknel shouted back.
"Captured!" he said as he dismounted.
Parknel jumped from the boat and waded toward Joshen. "So she freed 'em?"
"Yes sir, but the Tarten soldiers caught them. We have to go back to Carpel and get her out of there."
Parknel rubbed his red beard. "How?"
Joshen looked away. He simply didn't know the answer.
Parknel surveyed Stretch. "You've abused your animal."
The horse's ears hung limply and his head dropped as if it were too heavy to lift. Joshen stroked his neck. "It couldn't be helped."
Parknel grunted. "Well, I suppose we'd better find some fodder before we make for Carpel."
Before they could step into the water, the wind picked up, gushing past him, even though only moments before the day had been as calm as morning. It blew straight toward him, flattening the trees in a line—a line that came straight from Carpel. Witch song drifted down. Joshen thought he heard the inflection of Senna's voice and some of the tension seeped from his muscles.
Joshen, to Carpel thee must come,
For our destruction cannot be undone.
The wind faded and picked up again.
Captain Parknel, from Tarten we must flee.
In Carpel, we have need of thee.
"They didn't know we'd be together," Joshen murmured.
"If I take our ship to Carpel, we'll be captured." Parknel set his jaw. "You'd better let that horse go, son. We haven't enough hay to feed him over the journey and no time to gather any."
Joshen's face lost all color. After all he'd been through with Stretch, could he just abandon him? His mouth set in a grim line, Joshen loosened the cinch, pulled it from the horse's back and set it gently in the sand. His hand trailed along Stretch's neck and then rested on his poll. He hesitated and then tugged the bridle over his ears. Stretch opened his mouth and shook his head as the bit came out and then stood chewing tiredly.
He'll survive, he told himself. Joshen rested his forehead against his horse's neck, knowing he'd probably never see him again. "Goodbye, old friend." Draping the bridle and stirrups over the saddle horn, he hefted its sweat-soaked weight on his shoulder. He sloshed through the water, handed the tack to one of the sailors and looked back. Stretch still stood at the shore, looking at him. Joshen couldn't help but notice the horse looked confused, lost. He didn't understand why his master was abandoning him. Why he was being left in a strange land, alone.
Quickly wiping his cheeks with his sleeve, Joshen pulled himself into the boat and watched as Stretch's features grew increasingly indistinguishable. He stood at the ship's banister until he couldn't see the horse at all. Stretch never moved.
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