Witch's Pyre

by Josephine Angelini

  “You’re not saving Toshi, you’re saving yourself,” Juliet said bitterly to Grace as she struggled against the Sister’s grip. “Your law against claiming is to keep another witch from gathering together a coven powerful enough to challenge you.”

  “There is no coven powerful enough to challenge me,” Grace said, her eyes blazing. “My coven is the Woven. I own this continent.”

  Lily felt a collective moment of understanding dawn on her coven. Finally, all the pieces fit together.

  “You use the speaking stones to communicate with them—no. To control them,” Lily said, trying to keep Grace talking and draw it out as long as she could. “That’s why the Woven don’t go underground. Going underground would cut them off from your orders to keep every other witch behind her walls. Your orders to kill, kill, kill.”

  Grace caught a whiff of Lily’s mockery and sneered. “Well, they are simple things,” she replied. “Best to give them simple orders.”

  “Simple minds are probably easier to claim, too. You don’t even have to touch their willstones, do you?”

  “The lower species have a less defined sense of self. The Hive doesn’t even see themselves as individuals, and neither do the wild Woven. They don’t have will, not the way we know it. They wouldn’t be much good to me if they did.”

  Lily forced herself to sound admiring. “Creating Woven so they grow willstones inside their bodies was sheer genius. But I bet remote claiming through the speaking stones has some flaws. Some of the higher Woven have will, and you couldn’t fully claim them, not without their consent, and not without touching their willstones. They’ve resisted and broken free from you, haven’t they?”

  Grace smiled slowly. “There have been a few breeds that were useful at the start and then harder to control after a few generations.”

  “The Pack. The Pride. The Coyotes—I bet the Coyotes were the first to break free. The Pack and the Pride would have stronger instincts to follow because they already follow an alpha,” Lily said. “That’s why you eventually switched back to insects with the Hive. They don’t even have a concept for disobedience, do they?”

  “Enough about my coven,” Grace said, growing impatient. She snapped her fingers at a tight cluster of Warrior Sisters, and they parted to reveal another passenger among them. “Let’s discuss yours.”

  Carrick stepped forward. His shoulders were hunched and his head was cocked like a crow’s. Lily went stock-still. Just seeing Carrick was enough to steal the heat from her blood.

  “He’s not mine,” Lily rasped, her disgust at the thought evident.

  “I know,” Grace replied. “Which brings us to the reason I’ve kept you alive this long. Why I had my Hive retrieve you instead of kill you to begin with.” Grace folded her hands neatly. “Explain to me how there can be one Lillian Proctor here in front of me, and another in Salem. I tried to play nice, but Toshi couldn’t seem to charm the information out of you. Carrick wouldn’t tell me, and I suspect his witch—the other Lillian—wouldn’t mind killing him if he tried. I think I’ve played nice long enough. Explain how there can be two of you, and I’ll let this one live.”

  Grace tilted her head and two of the Warrior Sisters hauled Juliet away from the group and pushed her down on her knees in front of Lily.

  “No—she’s not mine, either. She’s not my claimed,” Lily stammered. The panic she felt grew wings and flapped around in her chest like a broken bird. “You don’t need to hurt her. Please.”

  Grace waved Lily’s pleading away, her frustration mounting. “I know she’s not yours. You’ve had your true mechanics carrying her about, so I can see that you are unable to fuel her. But you still love her like a sister, don’t you?”

  Lily nodded numbly, her eyes locked with Juliet’s.

  Juliet gave Lily a sad smile, her breath fluttering on the edge of a sob. She looked younger, like when they were little kids. Her skin was so pale her wide eyes look bruised. Lily had seen that stricken, terrified look on her sister’s face many times, but always when it was Lily who was close to death, and not herself. Lily would give anything for that to be the case right now. A thousand times over she’d rather be the one to be in danger. Not Juliet. Lily scrounged through her head for something—anything. She looked at Rowan, but he shook his head at her, his eyes as desperate as hers. He had nothing left. The rest of her coven had nothing left. There was only one person Lily could ask for help, and Lily couldn’t believe it had taken this long to think of her.

  Lillian. They have Juliet.

  She felt Lillian’s drowsy mind rousing itself from sleep. Lily felt Lillian’s pain wash over her like lava, before Lillian shielded her from it.

  “I’m waiting,” Grace said through clenched teeth.

  “Okay. Yes. There are two of us. Two Lillians,” Lily said, ready to tell her everything to buy time. “More than two. There are an infinite number of mes, of yous—of everyone—in other universes.”

  “You sound like a shaman,” Grace said, laughing. Then her brow furrowed, half believing.

  Lily, I’m lighting a fire. Hold on, Lillian said in mindspeak. Carrick will assist you.

  Carrick started to ease himself away from the Warrior Sisters around him. Lily felt Rowan stiffen as if he were listening to someone else’s mindspeak.

  Carrick has flint and steel, Rowan told Lily. We need to make a distraction so he has enough time to scrape off a spark.

  “Yes, a shaman. A shaman taught me,” Lily blurted out. She cast around for something to cause a distraction.

  “A shaman taught you what? How to farsee? Spirit walk? How can either of those things explain the fact that there are two Lillians?” Grace asked. “I’ve been alive for a very long time, but I’ve never seen this before.”

  A flash of white slid around the back of a redwood. Lily was desperate enough to try something that was still just an inkling, rather than an idea. She reached out to the confluence of scents, and the sharp but strange sensations she’d experienced many months ago when she found a willstone buried under the pale coyote’s skin. It was the thing that had put the idea of going west into her head in the first place—a connection that she hadn’t imagined possible. It had taken her this long to understand.

  Pale One. Help me.

  “I really hate waiting,” Grace said sadly.

  Lily knew that there was a universe where everything worked out perfectly. Somewhere in the worldfoam a version of her had realized that the pale coyote was one of her claimed earlier. Somewhere in the worldfoam a version of Lillian had been awake, with a fire already going, and she’d been able to intervene sooner. But this was neither of those worlds. And Lily ran out of time. The sisters shared a last desperate look.

  “It’s okay,” Juliet whispered, her huge eyes full of forgiveness that Lily would never believe she’d deserved.

  Grace didn’t even flinch when the Warrior Sister broke Juliet’s neck with one sharp tug. Lily watched the light go out of her sister’s brown eyes. From life to death in a moment, and it was as if the body that fell to the ground wasn’t even her sister. Couldn’t be her sister. No. Her sister was a joyful spirit, full of warmth and hope, not a blank rag doll lying small and broken on a bed of dry redwood needles.

  “Juliet?” Lily whispered. She’d get up. She wasn’t dead. “Juliet!” she shouted, as if to wake her.

  “Toshi. Get her largest willstone,” Grace said. “Leave her the other two so she’s conscious enough to feel what I’m going to do to her.”

  Lily didn’t know if it was her scream or Lillian’s scream or if both of them were screaming at the same time, but the sound was inside her and outside her and everywhere in a moment. Everything seemed to slow down. Everything went red with rage.

  The pale coyote leapt over Lily’s head and attacked Grace. The Hive turned as one to their fallen witch, and as they did, Carrick brought his hands together and cast a spark at Lily’s feet. The resinous needles that lay around her erupted into flame and Lily stood up,
planting her feet in the fire and drawing the heat into her willstone. A Warrior Sister backhanded Carrick. He fell to the ground and lay still.

  Lily’s witch wind boomed. The redwoods creaked in the sudden gust. Grace looked up at Lily with fear in her eyes.

  Gift me, Rowan begged. I’ll tear her apart.

  No. The Hive is too strong. I can’t lose you, too.

  “This isn’t over,” Lily promised Grace. She drew as much heat into her as she could, summoned her covens’ willstones, and catapulted them all across the worldfoam and back to her universe.

  CHAPTER

  7

  Lily was not asleep. She was not unconscious or dreaming. This was happening. It was real, and it was not going to disappear no matter how much she wanted it to.

  Juliet was dead. Maybe not her Juliet, not the version she’d been raised with, but still her sister. Lily was not going to let it go or move past it or forgive like sweet Juliet had done. She was going to go back to Bower City, but this time, she was going with an army. Hatred filled her mouth, wet and sour. She was going to go back and, when she did, she was going to kill every last one of them.

  Lily looked up from the forest floor. She was standing with her coven around her. Dawn was starting to filter through the redwoods that reached above her like thick arms holding heaven over the earth. She felt shrunk down in comparison—an ant in a giant’s farm. In another universe, a dying version of her was weeping. Lily wasn’t. She could feel Lillian’s sobs, and she had to let those tears be enough. One of them to cry, one of them to stay grounded, and maybe together they could survive this. She called out to her other self.

  Lillian. You need to calm down.

  My sister is dead. I can’t calm down.

  We have work to do. Gather your army.

  I started gathering my army when you first contacted me. We’re already on the move.

  Is that why you were always so occupied?

  Yes. Grace has to die, Lily.

  There was a time Lily would have quibbled about the morality of something like that, but now everything had changed. Tristan was dead. Juliet was dead. Lily looked at Una, Caleb, the other Tristan, Breakfast, and Rowan and knew that if she wanted to keep them alive she was going to have to get comfortable with crossing lines, just as Lillian had.

  Yes. She does, Lily agreed.

  Finally, you’ve joined me, Lillian replied, and for a moment, Lily shared Lillian’s view on the world.

  She saw the army that Lillian had assembled. Men, women, and a menagerie of tame Woven were already on the move, and they were moving fast. Lillian climbed on the back of a greater drake and vaulted into the air. Lily could see its iridescent wings churning the wind and its talons raking the sky. She was like a warmonger witch from a bygone era, and she was going not to fight, but to completely eradicate her enemy. Lillian didn’t say it, but Lily got the sense that she considered all of the people of Bower City the enemy. Lily was suddenly afraid for Toshi, his sister, his aging father, and his sick mother. Lily thought of the two children who’d stared at her with their mouths open.

  Lillian, I’m going to exterminate the Hive, but the people of Bower City have no knowledge of Grace’s control over them and over all the wild Woven. They’re innocent.

  Lily waited, but Lillian had blocked her out.

  “Lily? Are you okay?” Rowan asked.

  She startled and looked down at herself, but saw no burns. She was unscathed by the fire. Rowan saw what Lily was doing and shook his head.

  “I’m not talking about your body,” he said.

  Lily looked at him. The only Rowan. He had no copy. If he died, that was it. She’d never seen him as fragile before, and the thought that anyone could go from life to death with one sharp tug made her desperate. It could happen to him.

  Did you do that on purpose? she asked Lillian. Make it so I only had one of him? But she didn’t get an answer. She didn’t need one. There had only ever been one Rowan for both of them.

  “Lillian is marching her army to Bower City,” Lily told him. “She’s emptied Walltop, the city guard, and claimed tens of thousands more from the other Thirteen Cities. She means to take the west.”

  Rowan nodded like he’d expected as much. “Alaric will see her army on the move. If he finds out about Bower City he’ll want to take it for himself.”

  “He probably already knows,” Caleb said. “You can’t keep a secret like that once you’ve mustered an army. Lillian’s not marching west to fight nothing.”

  “What about the other Covens?” Tristan asked. “Richmond, Exeter, New York . . . they’ll all want a piece of what the west has got.”

  “The other Covens will wait and see what happens to Lillian,” Rowan said. “If she kills herself and her army trying to get there, they’ll set their sights on Salem. Nina, who’s Lillian’s second right now, won’t be able to hold as Salem Witch. She isn’t a firewalker.”

  “I remember Nina,” Lily said, her eyes narrowing. Nina had straddled Rowan in the nightclub where Elias had died. Lily had wanted to punch her then, and as she recalled Nina throwing a leg over Rowan’s lap and rubbing her hands all over his chest, she still wanted to punch her now.

  Rowan turned to Lily, unaware of her flare of jealousy. “Does Lillian know that Grace controls the Woven?”

  “She knows everything that we know,” Lily said. “She’s going west to end the Woven, once and for all.”

  And she means to kill Grace, no matter how many have to die in the process, she added in mindspeak for only Rowan to hear.

  Rowan nodded. I don’t blame her. Juliet was all she had left.

  Lily winced at Juliet’s name, and quickly stuffed down her anguish. Later, she told herself. I’ll cry later.

  “Even with all her claimed, Lillian can’t stand against the Hive,” Rowan said aloud.

  Caleb nodded in agreement. “The Hive is a million strong,” he said soberly.

  “Would she tell the other Covens about Grace and the Woven? Maybe get them to help?” Breakfast asked.

  “I don’t know,” Lily said. “I don’t know if they’d be willing to take the risk like Lillian would. They’re pretty safe where they are.”

  “Yeah,” Caleb chuffed. “Witches have no reason to want to get rid of the Woven. They do just fine ruling their cities behind their walls.”

  “Can Alaric help Lillian?” Una asked. Caleb, Tristan, and Rowan stared at her disbelievingly. “No, seriously, guys. Lillian has her personal crusade against the Woven—fine—but the people who really need to get rid of the Woven are the Outlanders. If Alaric knew that Grace made them, and still controls them, why wouldn’t he want to fight her?” Una’s voice flared with indignation. “She’s an Outlander who’s been killing Outlanders for almost two centuries. Alaric should want to kick the ever-loving piss out of her when he finds out.”

  “It’s not Alaric’s decision,” Lily said coldly. “It’s mine. That’s my army he’s pretending to lead. They’re my claimed.” Everyone went silent. Lily scrubbed her hands over her face and sat down on the ground. “And they’re on the other side of the continent.”

  “And in another world,” Breakfast reminded her.

  “Oh, the worldjumping bit is easy for Lily now,” Una said. “Look at her.”

  Lily was so spent her muscles were twitching, but she wasn’t on the verge of death. “I wouldn’t say easy,” Lily grumbled.

  “Why can’t you worldjump us back east?” Tristan asked.

  “Because it’s . . . well, it’s not the same thing,” she said, trying to picture how she would do something like that. “That’s teleporting, not worldjumping.”

  “You’d think it’d be easier,” Breakfast said. “I mean, a universe is farther away than Salem, right?”

  Lily looked up at him, so tired she couldn’t see straight. “No, actually it isn’t. Every universe is only a vibration away.”

  Breakfast shrugged. “Maybe Salem is, too.”

  Lily squinted
at Breakfast, trying to order her thoughts enough to explain why he was wrong. If she’d taught him to spirit walk, like she’d intended to months ago, he’d know the difference. Or maybe he wouldn’t. The shaman had only taught her to spirit walk into other universes, because his reason for teaching her was to restore the balance. He’d only taught her enough to get her back to her world, but now that she thought about it, there had to be a way to spirit walk and stay in one universe. She’d just never learned how.

  Those first few times she’d spirit walked, before she really knew what she was doing, she remembered rising up and looking around. Her spirit was still in the same world that her body was in, but everything had looked gray. What had the shaman called that gray spirit world she’d walked in? The overworld? Lily couldn’t be sure he’d ever said that, but she felt like that was its name. It was like the Mist. It dawned on Lily that maybe they were the same thing. She rubbed her forehead, confused.

  “He said that I had to be close to death to spirit walk—starved, dehydrated—and every time I met Lillian in the Mist we were both near death or in pain. I think the Mist, or overworld, or whatever you want to call it, could be a path. A bridge across this world, not just into another one,” Lily mumbled.

  “Who’s he?” Rowan asked cautiously.

  “The shaman,” Lily replied, distracted. An idea was building in her and she wanted to follow her train of thought. “If I could spirit walk to Salem and find the vibration, maybe I could worldjump us there physically. But do places have vibrations, or is it just universes?”

  “The shaman?” Tristan asked carefully.

  “Yeah. You see, the shaman had his own agenda,” she continued, thinking out loud. “He wanted me out of his world, not able to jump to any part of it I wanted. Maybe it was the same with Lillian. He never taught her about the overworld or how to travel across it, so she made up her own name for it. The Mist.”