Witch Song (Witch Song #1)

Chapter 14

14. REUNION

 Joshen squinted at the lifeless sails. Rivulets of moisture ran down the sides of his face, stinging his eyes. He wiped them with a damp sleeve. When the fog first rolled in, he'd simply been grateful the storm had left them all alive. But after three days of no wind, he'd come to realize the endless grayness might simply be a slower death.

A voice out of the fog startled him. "Makes me right uneasy." Joshen turned as Lery, the one with the crooked teeth, settled next to him on the rail. "You hear that?"

Joshen walked to his side. "Hear what?"

Lery shook his dark head; scattering water from his braided, beaded hair like a dog shaking after a bath. "Nothing. Not even the splash of waves against the ship."

He was right. The ship was as still as if she were moored. Not a breath of wind stirred the surface of the water.

"I've never seen it so still," Joshen admitted. They might have sailed by compass and found their way out, but not without wind. A look over the edge of the ship revealed glasslike water. Joshen mustered as much confidence in his voice as he could manage. "Cap'n Parknel says he's had bad fogs. And they always break."

Lery spit into the void. "Not like this, we ain't. Came rollin' in like thunderheads. Somethin' pushed that fog in. Mark my words."

Joshen saw the hunted look plain in the other man's dark-skinned face. The same look the other sailors had—hardened sailors who had been about the sea far longer than Joshen. And he'd never known them to show fear that wasn't warranted.

Lery shifted his pipe. What with the fog, the tobacco was too damp to light, so he'd simply been chewing on the stem.

Joshen glared into the blasted fog. He liked the sea alright, but he missed his horses. He missed his family. He leaned into the rail. Could he tell Senna goodbye? Give up and go home when he knew how much she would face alone. Almost, he could hear her sweet voice again.

Today, the song in his mind sounded clearer than ever. As he always did, Joshen strained to understand the foreign words. His head jerked up. He could swear he actually heard a Witch song. He leaned as far as he dared over the rails. "Do you hear that?"

A burst of cold air hit him solidly in the face.

"Get this ship tacked into that wind!" Captain Parknel shouted.

Lery ran toward the pulleys. Still straining to listen, Joshen hesitated, but he couldn't hear anything over the sailors' shouts.

"Joshen!" Lery yelled.

Running to the other men, Joshen tugged at the pulleys.

The fog thinned. Light filtered in. As he worked, he listened for snatches of song. Then, over the shouts on deck and the hiss of the wind in his ears, Joshen heard it again—clear enough he could make out distinct words. He straightened, his eyes wide.

"Joshen! Don't just stand there! Move!"

"Witch song," he whispered, but somehow, every sailor on the ship seemed to hear it. They froze in place, fear obvious in their rigidness.

"It's Espen. Has to be," Lery cursed under his breath.

"To arms!" Parknel whispered fiercely as he ran to his quarters. Quick as a spark, he started handing out muskets.

A weapon was thrust into Joshen's arms. He stared dumbly at it. "No," he said to Captain Parknel. "It might be Senna."

The Captain didn't even pause. "Senna wouldn't bring in this fog, boy. It's Espen. Here to see the last of the sea rider's corpses coating the bottom of the ocean. Now move!"