Read Witch Rising Page 3


  She gave a smile that didn’t show her teeth. “Not today.” Not any day.

  He grinned. “Care to make a wager?”

  “Not with you!” she growled. Salfe had a way of winning his wagers, even when he lost them.

  “You sure?” Something in his voice made her look up from tying down the sails. He carelessly flipped a coin that flashed silver like fish scales.

  She eyed the coin hungrily. It would take her months to earn that much, but Salfe’s father, Bian, always seemed to have extra. “In return?”

  He shrugged. “You accompany me to my sister’s wedding tonight.”

  Lilette hesitated. She had to go anyway—attendance was obligatory—but if she showed up with Salfe, the villagers would believe there was more between them than friendship.

  “Salfe—he’s not for you,” Fa said softly.

  Heat built in Lilette’s cheeks. “I know.”

  His gaze met hers. “But he doesn’t.”

  She bit her bottom lip.

  As Salfe rolled the coin across his knuckles she made her decision. In the end it wouldn’t matter, because she wouldn’t lose. “Fine.”

  Salfe flashed a triumphant grin as he flicked the coin in the air, caught it, and slipped it into his coin pouch. Lilette turned to see Fa watching her with a clouded expression and her confidence wavered. “We will win it?” she asked.

  He turned away from her gaze. “It’s a fine day for fishing.”

  Lilette frowned. Fa hadn’t really answered her. He’d been distant for the past few days. But his knobby fingers were already tying down one corner of the sail.

  Not one for pestering, she let it go. With the ease of experience, she grasped the other side of the sail and tied it down. She took her position at the bow, a long pole in hand to push the boat away from any rocks. Fa took hold of the rudder and directed the vessel out to sea.

  Shortly after they cleared the reef, the sun flared over the horizon like molten gold, reminding Lilette of the coins resting at the bottom of her basket of rice. As she’d done every day for months, she searched for any signs of a ship. She had enough to buy her way back now. Though it had been over a year since any ships had come to their small island, they would come, and she would be ready.

  She glanced back to find Fa watching her. The infinite sadness in his eyes drove hers downward. He had a way of knowing things, but sometimes he let her pretend she was keeping things from him.

  “This is a good day for goodbyes.” His voice was soft.

  Her head came up. “Are they coming?” She searched the horizon again in vain. She’d looked forward to leaving for so long now, but her heart was torn. Her memories of her sister were faded and chipped with time, but Fa was still here. Despite everything she’d done to keep her distance, he’d found his way inside her heart.

  “You won’t be happy. We both know that,” he said, as if guessing her thoughts. “Your time here is coming to an end.”

  “Fa . . .”

  He tied up the rudder and gathered his net. “I learned long ago that you cannot keep those you love. You must set them free. You will learn this also.”

  Lilette searched for fish in the dark turquoise water but saw none. Still, she’d come to trust Fa’s instincts. He was a fisherman in ways she never would be. She moved to tie down the sail.

  Fa uncoiled the net slowly and carefully. He twisted, spinning it out into a web that landed perfectly flat. It sank quickly, capturing any fish inside it as the weighted ends sank. As he and Lilette drew it in, the school of mackerel slapped helplessly against one another. They hauled it over the side and dumped wriggling fish into baskets, tossing any unwanteds back into the water.

  It wasn’t a bad catch, but the baskets were by no means full. If she was going to beat Salfe and his younger brother, the containers would have to be overflowing.

  Excitement flared in her chest as her thoughts turned back to the ship. “I will miss you.”

  Fa’s eyes studied her. “When the time comes, remember.”

  “Remember what?”

  “Your promise.”

  Lilette leaned over the boat to rinse fish scales off her hands. “Which one?”

  But he only smiled his sad smile. He’d once told her he would not burden her with endings, but teach her to celebrate beginnings. So she would focus on her new life. A ship was coming. She could finally go home, to the city where songs and magic were one and the same. Where her sister was waiting for her.

  They positioned the boat for another cast, in waters a little deeper than normal. Lilette and Fa drew in the bottom line to close the net, but it was caught. They tugged and pulled at different angles until he scratched his white head. They both knew they couldn’t afford to lose this net—it would take months to make a new one.

  Fa nodded toward their anchor, which was just a rope tied around a heavy rock. “Toss it over.”

  She lugged it up and over the side and turned back to see him giving it one last try, the cords of his muscles taut beneath his wrinkled skin. Finally, he pulled off his tunic, revealing white chest hair and sunspots. He bit down on the flat side of his blade, took a deep breath, and dove. Crossing to the other side of the boat, Lilette watched the blue swallow all traces of him. She moved to the back of the boat, and her eyes followed the net until it disappeared from sight. Several moments went by, and a pit of unease grew inside her. She looked up, searching for any other fishers. Salfe and his brother weren’t that far off—close enough to hear her if she shouted.

  She looked back to see Fa’s pale form shimmering as he resurfaced. The knot inside her eased as he took a gasping breath. “Caught on an overhang of coral. I’ll see if I can free it. Give the line some slack. When you feel my tug, pull it back in.”

  After taking a deep breath, he submerged again, kicking water all over Lilette. She wiped her face and searched the horizon once more for the ship he said would be coming, before glancing back at the disappearing rope. What she saw stopped her cold. Bright red blood stained the surface of the sea.

  “Salfe!” she screamed. She grabbed her knife and shoved it between her teeth, then gasped in a breath and dove. She barely felt the shock of cold water as she swam down. Following the spreading column of blood, she saw an enormous boulder rising out of the sea floor. Their net was snagged on the coral.

  She kicked hard until Fa’s blurry form came into view. He floated lifelessly in the water. It was hard to see with all the blood, but she could tell that most of it came from his arm, and that he’d become entangled in the net. As she came closer, she realized something was thrashing in the water. Something had a hold of his arm. Taking her knife from her teeth, she reached toward him. Something long and slippery brushed across her hand. Whatever it was, it still had a hold of Fa.

  Her searching hands found Fa’s shoulder and moved down to his arm. She touched the slickness again, feeling the bumps and ridges as the creature thrashed. It was an eel. A big one. And it had a death grip on Fa’s arm. Lilette stabbed down hard on what she hoped was its brains and twisted, corkscrewing the knife. The creature’s movements went from crazed to jerky and uncoordinated, and she knew it was dying.

  Lilette felt a burning in her lungs, a primal need that was fast growing out of her control. But she didn’t have time to resurface—not if she was going to save Fa’s life. Knowing it wouldn’t be long before sharks appeared, she ignored Fa’s wound as she grabbed hold of his wrist, planted both feet on the sharp coral, and pulled. But the net was wrapped tight around his arm.

  With her knife, she sawed at the strands of rope. They were thick as her smallest finger, but there were several of them and the water had made them pliable and hard to cut. Though she worked frantically, she knew she was losing this battle. But she couldn’t bear to leave Fa.

  Something grabbed her. She whipped around, her knife out. Salfe jerked back, his cheeks bulging with air, and his brother not far behind. He pointed up even as he and Quo braced themselves against the coral a
s she had done and pulled.

  Knowing she didn’t have a choice, Lilette obeyed, kicking with the last of her dwindling strength. She could see the light cutting through the water, see the waves slapping against two boats. And she knew she wasn’t going to make it. Even as panic took over, a strong arm wrapped around her waist and towed her up.

  They broke the surface and all she could do was breathe, greedily gulping air until her mind could once again overpower her instincts. Salfe shoved her toward his boat, where his brother was already trying to lift Fa’s limp body over the side. Salfe pulled himself up and turned to help haul Fa in after him. The dead eel was still attached to his arm—it was easily the biggest one Lilette had ever seen. Salfe reached down and pulled her over the gunwales.

  “Is he breathing?” She leaned over Fa, noticing how bloated and gray his skin looked.

  Salfe rested his head on Fa’s chest. “No, but his heart beats.”

  Panic and despair flared in Lilette’s heart. Grasping both of his shoulders, she shook him. “Breathe, Fa! Breathe!” His head flopped limply. She pounded on his back, but nothing happened. “We have to get him to shore, to the physicker.”

  Salfe’s hands rested on her shoulders. “Li, we’re too far away.”

  “No!” She shoved him so hard he fell back against the gunwales. “Tie the sails!”

  He watched her warily. “The wind’s wrong. It will take us more than an hour to tack back to shore.”

  She searched the distant shore, gripping her head in her damp hands. There was a song for this. She’d locked it away long ago, but she had to free it. Had to find it.

  Suddenly, she knew the words she must sing. Fa’s warning rang in her head, but Lilette ignored it. Her mouth formed the words in the language that would call the wind. It had been years since she’d sung, but her voice still rang out pure and clear as the morning after rain.

  Oh wind, hear my plea,

  From the southeast, blow for me.

  Salfe and his brother gaped at her as she sang it again. The wind shifted, turning from blowing from the shore to blowing behind them. On Lilette’s third round, the wind blew strongly at their backs. By the fourth, the entire boat strained against the pull.

  They reached the shore within minutes. Screaming for the physicker, Lilette leapt from the boat as it slammed into the sand. He came running out of his hut, his eyes quickly taking in Salfe and his brother hauling Fa onto the sand.

  The physicker pressed his ear against Fa’s chest. Slowly, he looked up at her. “His heart isn’t beating. There’s nothing I can do.”

  “Then what good are you!” she screamed as she shoved him.

  The physicker rose to his feet and backed away. She’d offended him, and she didn’t care. Fa had died alone while she was singing. Something inside Lilette broke, tearing her apart from the inside out. She found herself on her knees, gripping fistfuls of sand.

  Salfe said something to his brother before he knelt beside her and rested his hand on her back.

  Fa had said today was a good day for goodbyes. He hadn’t meant a ship. He’d known he would die. So why did he go out onto the ocean? Why did he dive into the water?

  Salfe was saying something, the same thing over and over again. “Li, look at him.”

  Through her haze of tears, Lilette studied Fa’s face. He looked young—almost boyish.

  “He’s with his wife and children now. Do not grieve for him.”

  Is that why he hadn’t shied away from death? Why he’d left her all alone.

  A voice in her head reminded her that she had always planned to leave him—today, even, but she shoved it aside. She had never planned to leave him forever!

  She pressed her face into the sand, felt it sticking to the tracks of her tears. Felt it inside the cuts on her feet from the coral. And then she remembered that wasn’t all Fa had said. He’d made her remember her promise never to sing. He had warned her that bad things would happen if she broke that promise. He hadn’t been willing to let her stay unless she’d agreed.

  She scoured her mind for any traces of the songs or the golden language that had flowed from her tongue. To her relief, she found nothing.

  Lilette fisted Salfe’s tunic in her hands. “You mustn’t ever tell anyone you heard me sing. Promise me.”

  He wet his lips. “You are one of them—one of the Witches?”

  She shook him. “Promise me, Salfe!”

  “All right, I promise!”

  But Salfe hadn’t been alone on his boat. Quo had been with him. She was on her feet, stumbling toward the village. Pan was running toward her, shouting her name. Her brother, Quo, was right behind.

  Lilette gripped Pan for support, but her gaze was focused on Quo. “You can’t tell anyone. Promise me, swear it on the Sun Dragon, both of you.”

  She divided her attention between the two men, their hair stiff with salt and their eyes wild. “I swear on the Sun Dragon,” Salfe finally said, with a pointed look at his brother. Mumbling, Quo swore too.

  Lilette felt her fists unclenching, felt the sand trickle free.

  “Swear what?” Pan looked between them. “Does this have anything to do with Fa?”

  Lilette swallowed. “No. He’s dead. He knew it was coming.” Her voice caught, and she had to swallow before she could go on. “And he went anyway, knowing he would leave me with this grief.”

  She was suddenly angry, so angry her whole body shook. In the midst of all that anger was a sense of dread. Something awful was coming, and it was her fault.

  Chapter 4

  Lilette stood over the plot of freshly turned earth. Her face was dry, for she had no more tears to shed. Not for the man who had known his death was coming and had gone willingly toward it, leaving her alone and bereft in a crowd of pitying gazes and fading whispers.

  One by one, the villagers came before her, giving a silent bow and leaving a small gift at her feet before disappearing into the cluster of huts just visible through the jungle.

  Pan stood on one side of Lilette, Salfe on the other. He hadn’t spoken to her since she’d made him promise to stay silent. It was probably better that way. She didn’t want to think about the secret woven like shadows between them.

  Bian, the last to go, made his bow, but instead of striding past her like the others, he remained, his gaze asking her to look at him. Angry that he wouldn’t simply let her be, she raised her eyes to his. He gave her a pitying smile, and she resisted the urge to say something one simply did not say to the village Lord.

  “Li, with no male relative to look after you, you have become my responsibility. I’ll see that the best decisions are made.”

  Lilette tried to make her face humble. It was difficult, for it was not an expression she wore often. “Thank you, but I’ll manage on my own.”

  The corner of Bian’s mouth crooked up, as if her defiance amused him.

  “I’ll look after her, Father,” Salfe declared.

  Bian raised a brow. “You don’t even have your own boat. How can you care for her?”

  Lilette didn’t miss the way Salfe’s fists tightened, the way his nostrils flared. She knew him well enough to know the signs of his anger, and right now he was furious.

  “I have my own boat,” Lilette said through gritted teeth.

  Bian gave her another smile, this one indulgent, and moved past her, his feet shushing through the sand and making nearly the same noise as the surf beyond the village.

  Lilette’s intuition told her he would try for her now that Fa was no longer in the way. But tradition dictated that a full moon pass before she could marry. By then she’d be long gone.

  Salfe stood before her. But instead of leaving his gift at her feet, he pressed it into her hand and hurried after his father. Lilette glanced down at a decorative comb carved in the shape of a phoenix. She’d never owned anything so fine. Her fist tightened around it until she could feel the imprint of its teeth on her palm.

  Now it was just Lilette and Pan standi
ng side by side. Every time Lilette closed her eyes, she saw the blood, felt the feeble thump of Fa’s heart against her ear. “Your father thinks he owns me.”

  Pan looked up, tears streaming down her face. “He owns everything.”

  Lilette sniffed. “He never owned Fa.”

  Pan glanced back at her father’s retreating figure. “No. Never Fa.”

  Lilette closed her eyes, remembering the last words her adopted father had ever said to her. I learned long ago that you cannot keep those you love. You must set them free. You will learn this also.

  Was this what he’d meant? That she had to set him free? Another flash of raw anger rolled over her.

  “It’s near midday,” Pan said. “My mother will have prepared a meal for you. Would you like to eat with us, or shall I bring it to you at your home?”

  For the first time, Lilette realized she now lived alone. She would never again wake to Fa’s soft steps, his gentle hand on her shoulder. There were a thousand little things she would never experience again.

  Her body suddenly felt so heavy. “At my home.” She turned and left the grave without saying goodbye.

  Knowing she wasn’t ready to face their empty hut, Lilette went straight into the jungle, heading for her favorite spot—a pool of clear water fed by a waterfall. When she came out again, her wet hair still clung to her forehead and the sun had set. One of Salfe’s little brothers jumped up at the sight of her and took off running.

  Ignoring him, she trudged through the sand toward the hut she’d shared with Fa. At the base, she paused and couldn’t seem to make herself go inside. She wasn’t sure how long she stood, staring at up it, her eyes unfocused, when Bian came. He was flanked by two other village elders. Knowing this wouldn’t be good, Lilette crossed her arms and faced them.

  Bian tilted his head toward her. “I have called for bids from any prospective husbands. Seven men have offered for you.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. She should have at least a month before he began bothering her. “I have no need of a husband. I will continue fishing, as I always have.” And when a ship finally came, she’d be on it before they could stop her.