couldn’t see below the harem wall, but that was about to change. Fixing in her mind one of the songs Jolin had taught her, Lilette sang softly for the tree to grow. Soon the sweat of fear ran down her body.
The tree grew a little higher, opening Lilette’s view to what lay just beyond the harem wall. About a dozen witches were arm in arm inside the barrier. She scanned their faces for Jolin but didn’t see her.
As if they were one mind, the witches stopped chanting and Sash took over. She chanted with the strength of them all, but with one voice, calling for the waves to swamp the ships. The elements writhed in pain, the rhythms screeching against one another. Even as Sash was gently lowered, wind gusted with enough force to level a city.
“Another song. This one directed toward the northeast,” a voice ordered. The emperor stood atop the walkway, looking like an older version of Han. Lilette shuddered.
“They’re already retreating! Let them go!” Sash demanded, now nearly at eye level with the emperor.
“I must ensure they can’t come against us again,” he said.
“I won’t do it!” Sash cried as she sank below him.
Lilette couldn’t understand why Sash and her witches didn’t just blast the emperor with lightning—level the whole city with a violent storm.
The emperor turned his full attention to Sash. “Your witches brought our enemy to my city, and then you pretend innocence! I will do what I must to protect my people.”
Lilette’s breathing came hard. This was wrong, horribly wrong. Why wasn’t her sister fighting back? Then the emperor made a gesture.
Sash whipped around. Lilette followed her gaze to the other side of the barrier. Obscured by the strange lights, dozens of men and women knelt in rows, their hands tied behind their backs. An elite stood above each of them.
Lilette’s hand flew to her mouth to silence her gasp of horror. Half of the witches had been forced to sing, while the other half and all their guardians were held at sword point.
She had a sudden flash of memory—guardians holding a shield wall, fighting and dying to maintain the passage. Griz had held her to his chest and run. Lilette had never forgotten those guardians. Her father had been one. Their duty was to protect the witches, guarding their backs as their songs began to take effect.
Fury rose in Lilette. Something sacred and good and right had been violated—twisted into something evil.
Sash gasped. “You’re asking us to murder thousands of men!”
“Don’t pretend this isn’t something the witches haven’t done for centuries,” the emperor replied.
She glared at him, pain naked on her face.
“I won’t let Vorlay slaughter my people,” he went on. “You witches think you can meddle in the affairs of men but never suffer the repercussions. Well, you came here as spies. That makes you prisoners of war!”
“I keep telling you, we’re not spies! And those songs couldn’t have come from Grove City. It’s not our way!”
“You told me yourself—the listeners hunt down anyone who sings outside of your city. If someone is singing, you know about it.”
Sash was crying now, and Lilette scrambled for a solution—some way she could help. But what could she do beside getting herself caught?
“We must have missed something,” Sash said as her feet touched down on the ground in the center of the circle. “I don’t know how, but I promise, I will find out.”
The emperor motioned again. In unison, the elite drew their swords from their baldrics and held them poised over the witches’ heads. A whimper of fear and horror clawed its way up Lilette’s throat. She pressed both her hands to her mouth to keep quiet.
The emperor paused before saying, “Make your choice, Sash. Either you capsize those ships, or we kill your witches and guardians.”
Lilette’s sister tipped her head to the side as if listening to something. Without any direction from her, the witches began singing as one.
The tree grew a little higher, opening Lilette’s view to what lay just beyond the harem wall. About a dozen witches were arm in arm inside the barrier. She scanned their faces for Jolin but didn’t see her.
As if they were one mind, the witches stopped chanting and Sash took over. She chanted with the strength of them all, but with one voice, calling for the waves to swamp the ships. The elements writhed in pain, the rhythms screeching against one another. Even as Sash was gently lowered, wind gusted with enough force to level a city.
“Another song. This one directed toward the northeast,” a voice ordered. The emperor stood atop the walkway, looking like an older version of Han. Lilette shuddered.
“They’re already retreating! Let them go!” Sash demanded, now nearly at eye level with the emperor.
“I must ensure they can’t come against us again,” he said.
“I won’t do it!” Sash cried as she sank below him.
Lilette couldn’t understand why Sash and her witches didn’t just blast the emperor with lightning—level the whole city with a violent storm.
The emperor turned his full attention to Sash. “Your witches brought our enemy to my city, and then you pretend innocence! I will do what I must to protect my people.”
Lilette’s breathing came hard. This was wrong, horribly wrong. Why wasn’t her sister fighting back? Then the emperor made a gesture.
Sash whipped around. Lilette followed her gaze to the other side of the barrier. Obscured by the strange lights, dozens of men and women knelt in rows, their hands tied behind their backs. An elite stood above each of them.
Lilette’s hand flew to her mouth to silence her gasp of horror. Half of the witches had been forced to sing, while the other half and all their guardians were held at sword point.
She had a sudden flash of memory—guardians holding a shield wall, fighting and dying to maintain the passage. Griz had held her to his chest and run. Lilette had never forgotten those guardians. Her father had been one. Their duty was to protect the witches, guarding their backs as their songs began to take effect.
Fury rose in Lilette. Something sacred and good and right had been violated—twisted into something evil.
Sash gasped. “You’re asking us to murder thousands of men!”
“Don’t pretend this isn’t something the witches haven’t done for centuries,” the emperor replied.
She glared at him, pain naked on her face.
“I won’t let Vorlay slaughter my people,” he went on. “You witches think you can meddle in the affairs of men but never suffer the repercussions. Well, you came here as spies. That makes you prisoners of war!”
“I keep telling you, we’re not spies! And those songs couldn’t have come from Grove City. It’s not our way!”
“You told me yourself—the listeners hunt down anyone who sings outside of your city. If someone is singing, you know about it.”
Sash was crying now, and Lilette scrambled for a solution—some way she could help. But what could she do beside getting herself caught?
“We must have missed something,” Sash said as her feet touched down on the ground in the center of the circle. “I don’t know how, but I promise, I will find out.”
The emperor motioned again. In unison, the elite drew their swords from their baldrics and held them poised over the witches’ heads. A whimper of fear and horror clawed its way up Lilette’s throat. She pressed both her hands to her mouth to keep quiet.
The emperor paused before saying, “Make your choice, Sash. Either you capsize those ships, or we kill your witches and guardians.”
Lilette’s sister tipped her head to the side as if listening to something. Without any direction from her, the witches began singing as one.
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