Witch Song (Witch Song #1)

Chapter 2

1.    OF SILVER AND SHADOW

The stairs creaked. A moment later, the kitchen door groaned and slapped against the frame. Having been unable to sleep, Brusenna padded to her window.

Sacra trailed through the waist-high corn as if wading through water, her palms skimming the tops of the plants. Witch song drifted in the air as the moonlight cast everything in silver and shadow. Brusenna watched until her mother disappeared into the dense forest. Before she could change her mind, she snatched her wrap from its hook and flung it around her narrow shoulders.

Telling her dog to stay, Brusenna scanned for her mother before bursting free of the house. Darting from one shadow to the next, she halted at the sound of her mother's song. Pure, beautiful, enchanting. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the words only a Witchborn could understand—words sung by a Witch in the Creator's language, the language of authority, with the correct melding of melody and rhythm.

Following the sound, Brusenna paused at the edge of the forest and peered into the dappled darkness. The wind played with her cotton shift, pressing it against her body before billowing it out then twisting it around her. She shivered as the wind's fingers painted her skin silver with moonlight.

Gritting her teeth, she gathered the hem of her shift in her fist and plunged into the ever-deepening shadows. She'd lost count of how many scratches she'd accumulated and how often she'd stumbled, when the path before her suddenly cleared. Startled, she found herself in the shadows that edged a perfectly formed circle. One she hadn't known existed. Scrambling, she ducked behind an enormous tree and peered inward with awe.

Her mother stood, arms outspread and her Witch song commanding and sure.

Wind, lift me high,

That my words reach to'rds the sky.

All around Sacra, the trees swirled as if caught inside a slow whirlwind. Her face upturned, she repeated the song one last, heart-stopping time.

A current of air snatched her off the ground, twisting her hair as it caught her next words.

Oh, Wind, to Haven carry my song,

For the ears of the Keepers must hear it 'fore long.

Of the Keepers, how many remain?

Upon how many has the Dark Witch laid her claim?

With a roar, a gust swirled the song into a tight cocoon and hurtled it away. Sacra's song faded, even as the wind lowered her to the ground. She continued staring into the night sky, as if waiting for a response.

Her entire life, Brusenna had witnessed her mother singing. But never like this, with so much power. Shivering, Brusenna sat down and hugged her wrap around her legs. She considered confronting her mother, but anger stopped her. There were secrets here. Secrets Brusenna had been ignorant of her entire life. Secrets she was determined to find the answers to. Time passed. She'd grown so accustomed to the quiet that she started at the sound of another song—one that wasn't from her mother, but distant, as if little more than an eerie echo.

Eight Witches remain.

The rest are in chains.

Sacra bowed her head. "Coyel spoke true," she whispered.

Brusenna stretched out her stiff, cold legs and rubbed her numb hip. She waited a long time to see if anything more would happen. But her mother showed no signs of leaving. No signs of anything.

Afraid she'd already stayed too long, Brusenna eased to her feet and backed up a step. Something cracked beneath her weight. She froze. Her mother's gaze snapped to the tree Brusenna hid behind. Holding her breath, she stood perfectly still, her blood pounding in her ears. For what seemed an eternity, her mother stared in her direction before she turned her gaze back to the night sky.