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...
Joshen felt the wind picking up behind them, blowing harder than it had since noon. It was pitch dark and every sailor among them was scanning the shore for signs of the bay. "Fire!" the man in the crow's nest cried. Joshen saw the eerie blue flames licking the starry sky. "Is it the city burning?" he asked.
Parknel's eyebrows nearly drew together. "I don't see any lights. No signs of the city at all. Surely, that's the bay."
Joshen studied the rounded mountains, trying to remember if these were the same ones he had seen days ago. But this had to be the inlet; it was the only one they had seen before they had thrown anchor.
"To port!" Parknel cried; the ship groaned as it turned into the bay.
Joshen heard distant popping sounds and saw smaller flashes of golden light. "Musket fire!"
"To arms!" Parknel screamed. "Load the blasted cannons!"
Sailors tore open the door to the Captain's cabin while other men thundered below decks to load the cannons. Joshen grabbed his own musket, ran back to the bow of the ship and loaded it. But he wasn't in range yet. All he could do was watch as a cluster of Witches at the end of the pier struggled to rip up the planks so the soldiers couldn't reach them from the shore. Some were singing desperately to the wind that drove their ship, others were intent on stopping the soldiers in boats. There was a man with them. Three Witches took turns loading his musket and pistols. He fired as rapidly as he could at the advancing soldiers. It seemed all the soldiers of Carpel had converged on them.
Joshen couldn't help but wonder who the man was and why he was helping. The ship wasn't in musket range yet, but it wouldn't be long. "Prepare the gang plank and the stern cannon! Force those soldiers back!" Parknel screamed. "And disable the other vessels so they can't follow us!"
The ship bucked as the cannons fired. Some of the balls slammed into docked ships, while others careened toward boats filled with Tarten soldiers. The musket fire forced the soldiers to shift focus onto the Sea Witch, but it didn't halt their advance. The sailors aboard the Sea Witch had the high ground and a rail to shield them. Steadily, they managed to curtail the Tartens' progression.
Not much farther in, Joshen recognized Senna, Coyel and an unfamiliar Witch loading the man's muskets. Grasping ropes as thick as his arm, Joshen and a handful of men jumped from the ship. He hit the pier with enough force to send painful shudders up his shins. Fast as he could, he tied the rope to the pier. The ship groaned and the hull nose-dived. Water exploded from the stern, throwing sailors and cannons helter-skelter.
His fellow sailors wrestled with the awkward gangplank while the ship bucked like a colt. The moment it touched the pier, Witches ran up. Joshen saw the danger immediately. He opened his mouth to shout a warning when shots began popping, hitting the exposed Witches as easily as chickens on a fence post. More than one crumpled. The sailors rushed to help, but there was little need. The Witches behind the women simply heaved them up without so much as a break in stride.
The very last to come were Senna, Coyel and the man. Joshen was tempted to throw him overboard, but there wasn't time for it. All the while, the cannons never stopped firing as the cannoneers took aim at whatever targets they could find.
"Quick!" He heard Senna say. "Before one of them tacks onto our wind song!" With the Witches singing, the ship turned and jerked forward, rendering all but the stern cannon useless. It continued firing. Breathlessly, Joshen waited to see if the Tartens would follow. Parknel's ship wasn't up to another sea battle.
But no other ships surged forward. He sagged in relief and then went to see if Senna was safe. He found her bent over a Witch who was obviously Tarten. Her hands pressed over the wound in her leg that gushed warm and red between her fingers.
"Tiena, can you feel the ball?" Sacra asked.
The woman's voice was strained and accented, "In my bone!"
"It has to come out!" Prenny said gravely. "We'll never be able to control an infection if it doesn't." She gazed up at Joshen. "You and Brusenna hold her. Sacra, help me."
They gave her the hem of her cloak to bite down on. Joshen and Senna gripped her arms while two others laid themselves over her legs. Tiena screamed as Prenny's fingers disappeared within her flesh. Her face white and strained, she pulled back her crimson fingers. "It's too slippery, I can't grasp it."
Parknel appeared with a pair of pliers. Prenny dug back in and finally came out with a ball. The Witches went about healing the injured and calling upon the wind.
As exhausted as they all were, their work was not yet finished.
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