Sea Witch by Hollick Helen

Author:Hollick, Helen [Hollick, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: SilverWood Books
Published: 2011-06-20T22:00:00+00:00

Twenty Eight

His legs buckling, Jesamiah slithered into an untidy heap; Tiola was there, kneeling beside him, not touching, her eyes searching his ashen face, his gaze stubbornly not meeting hers. Tentative, she reached out, touched his cheek. “Are you alright?”

He closed his eyes, took several breaths to steady himself. Not trusting his voice, managed only a nod.

When he looked up at last Tiola’s heart lurched for he was not alright. Terror was bolting through him at full gallop.

She smiled, apologetic. “I did tell you I was a witch.”

“I did not believe you,” he whispered.

“It is perhaps as hard for you to accept I am what I am, as it is for me to accept you are a pirate. I heal. I bring life into the world, you think nothing of killing and torturing and stealing for no reason except the satisfaction of your own greed.”

“You missed out rape.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Do I add it to the list?”

One hand steadying himself against the wall he pushed himself upright. “Alright, aye, I’ve killed. I lie, I cheat, I steal,” He flinched, finally speaking the truth. “And yes, I’ve raped.” He ran his hand through his hair; he was sweating, he could feel it trickling down his back. “I’ve joined with men stripping terrified women naked, abusing them. Aye, I’m part of all that, and you know what?” He backed away from her into the room. “I bloody enjoy it!”

For the last, he was lying again, she could see the false bravado clearly in his anxious expression, in the rigid way he held his body. Lying to appear strong, to convince himself – her – he was not afraid, that he was dangerous. A regular pirate trick; make as much noise as possible when attacking, make them think you are the very Devil come to claim their souls and they will give up without a fight. Anger was mixing with fear, and the two together were as volatile as a barrel of gunpowder left open where sparks were flying. She would have to stop this flooding panic before it erupted.

Best to do it now, make him forget, get it done, although she was reluctant for she had wanted to be able to trust him. Beyond Jenna, no one else knew of her Craft – even Tiola herself was uncertain of what she could or could not do, for her power had not yet reached its maturity. It would come, but not until it was ready to reveal itself. Like a tree in the late days of winter, it had lain dormant until awakened. But as yet the branches bore only buds and a few bright catkins. Soon, very soon, the leaves would burst open and the tree would come to vivid life. So it was with the power of the White Craft of the Old Wise Ones.

Jenna had known Tiola’s grandmother, and what the old lady had been gifted with, so the young woman had now, but Jesamiah was a stranger, Tiola’s telling him what she was, even disguised as teasing jest, had always been a risk.

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