Witch Born by Amber Argyle Page B

alike, she cut straight through the foliage to another path. Some called after her, wondering if she was all right, if she needed help.
    She ignored them until she reached her tree house. She glanced inside. There were a dozen Witches lying on blankets in the parlor. It was well known that Sacra was a former Head of Plants—not because she excelled at potions or plants, but because of her propensity for healing.
    Taking a steadying breath, Senna stepped inside. The Witches waiting for treatment didn’t look serious. Most were just banged up. A few were bleeding.
    She knelt next to her mother. “Mother, I need to speak with you.”
    Sacra glanced up, her eyes bleary. “Hand me the garku, will you?”
    Feeling guilty, Senna studied the injured. She didn’t think the foreign Witches would risk attacking Haven again so soon. Whatever was going on with the desert countries could wait, at least a little while. She set about helping her mother with the Healing.
    Before they’d finished, the Guardians had brought in another dozen Witches, and the day was tentatively approaching twilight.
    Senna washed up and changed her dress before going back downstairs to speak with her mother. Another Witch had come in—this one with a twisted ankle.
    Senna handed over the ointment without thought. “I need to speak with you in private.”
    Sacra’s hands slowed. “Now’s not the time, Brusenna.” Her mother applied a salve for swelling.
    Senna fished out the strips of cotton from her mother’s satchel. “I know they turned Harshen into a desert, just like Tarten.”
    The strips of cotton stilled in her mother’s hands. “How do you know that?”
    The Witch with the twisted ankle watched them with wide eyes.
    Senna folded her arms across her chest. “I know of six for sure. Are there any more?”
    “I’ll be right back,” her mother said to the Witch. She grabbed Senna’s arm and hauled her outside, beyond earshot. “Tarten is the first in a long time.”
    “How many?” Senna whispered.
    Sacra gestured back to her tree house. “She’s hurt, Senna. I think that’s a bit more important than your silly questions!”
    Senna clenched her jaw. “This is important, too.”
    Her mother turned to go back. Senna watched her walk away and knew she’d never give up the answers. Some impulse made her blurt, “What of Lilette and Calden?”
    Sacra froze mid-stride. She whirled back and grabbed Senna’s arm, her chest heaving. “Where did you hear those names?” she said in a harsh whisper.
    Her fingernails dug into Senna’s skin. She jerked free. “I want the truth, Mother.”
    Sacra slowly opened her clenched hands. They were shaking. “Where did you hear those names?”
    “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
    Her mother squeezed her eyes shut. “Before I ever became the Head of Plants, I was sworn to never reveal the secrets of the Discipline Heads. I can’t tell you.”
    Senna folded her hands across her chest. “Can’t or won’t?”
    Her mother met her glare with one of her own. “Knowledge is a powerful thing. For once learned, certain things cannot be unlearned, no matter how much you might wish it.”
    Senna stiffened. “You kept me in the dark before and it nearly cost me my life.”
    Her mother sucked air through her teeth. “Lilette…Lilette and Calden were centuries ago, when all of Haven bustled with Witches. Before we were reduced to this” —she gestured toward the abandoned quarter— “pitiful existence.”
    Senna waited for her mother to go on, but she didn’t. “So you would have me remain ignorant?”
    Sacra shook her head. “Not ignorant—innocent.”
    Senna threw her arms out. “Innocence won’t save me from what’s coming for me—what’s coming for all of Haven.”
    “But it might save you from yourself,” her mother whispered. “You would have knowledge, Daughter, but what if the knowledge destroys you?”
    A cold knot of fear wormed its way into Senna’s stomach. Was