Sea Witch Rising by Sarah Henning

Author:Sarah Henning
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-08-05T23:00:00+00:00

21

Runa

MORNING DRIFTS INTO NIGHT AS I LEARN EVERYTHING this small coven of rebels knows about the Havnestad U-boat program. Which turns out to be quite a lot—they know dates, places, the program’s organizational structure.

What they don’t know is much magic. Even Katrine, despite her reputation and her clear knowledge. Worse, there aren’t many of us. There isn’t a network of covens working together on this plot. Our army is solely composed of these three witches plus two more—Phillip, the other boy from the balcony, and Agnata, Sofie’s handmaiden. And neither of them made it to the safe house when things went south last night. Neither numbers nor magic are in our corner.

It’s one thing to learn in daily lessons about the ways nonmagical humans, especially those in power, went about extinguishing the witch community—Hypatia in Greece, over a millennium ago; Salem, across the Atlantic; the Pendle and Chelmsford witches in the British Isles; and here, King Christian IV, the self-styled witch-hunter king, and all the women he tossed in a fire—but to see how it has left those who remain is quite something.

I’d thought that maybe Will’s singular ability to fashion daisies was simply because of a lack of practice, but how can he be expected to learn when even his teacher’s skills are rudimentary and self-taught through the faded pages of ancient texts? Katrine can sense magic, and spell a door, but her magic only has practical applications.

Like her cousin, Sofie has a finger on the thread of magic, but she can’t properly use it. Even now, I can barely recognize a whiff of her magical scent, it’s so weak. It’s not surprising, then, that she hasn’t successfully completed a spell—not even Will’s daisy-making one. Still, she can sense magic like the others—she smelled it on me and Alia, though she did not discern it was from the sea—so there is some small hope we can make a real witch out of her yet.

It’s decided that we’ll take a quick break, wash up, eat something, and then I will work with these witches to see if I can teach them something of my magic.

Which is another small problem. My magic is tied to the sea, even more out of reach than their own magic. If I am to be useful to these witches, and to myself in this body, I need to learn to tap into the magic of the land.

I come up on Katrine as she’s clearing bowls and spoons from the soup she made, something hearty of clams she pulled from the shore the day before. “Katrine, may I speak with you alone?”

She tosses a glance over my shoulder to Sofie and Will, who are adding new kindling to the small fireplace built into the house—something we’re only able to use at night to avoid detection. Drying her hands on her apron, Katrine nods and leads me into the small room at the back of the house.

Earlier, I learned that this is her sleeping quarters. It’s not

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