Witch's Pyre

by Josephine Angelini

  “They told you they were going to Yosemite?” Simms asked, ignoring his question.

  “Yes. That’s all I know.”

  “Yosemite is a big place. Were they specific about any particular site? Were they meeting someone? Did they have camping gear with them?” Simms’s questions came fast.

  “No. No camping gear,” Miller said, growing more agitated. “They mentioned friends, but I think that was a lie. Agent Simms, are you going after her?”

  There was a long pause. “Yes,” she answered.

  “Take me with you.” It wasn’t a request. Miller sounded desperate. “I can help you. She trusts me.”

  “Special Agent? We have one more for you,” said another voice.

  Carrick heard a young man’s voice protesting as he was brought into the room. “I told you, I don’t know where they’re keeping the bomb,” he said. “All I know is that they said that some guy had nukes.”

  “What’s this?” Simms said harshly.

  “I told them already, like, seven times,” the young man said, his voice growing desperate. “I was outside. It was dark. The whole group was on the patio, talking, and one of them said something about a nuke and bombing the whole eastern seaboard. Then they went back inside. I thought they couldn’t be serious until you guys showed up looking for them, then I thought maybe it’s true. They didn’t sound like they were joking at the time, but it’s crazy. Right?” The young man sounded like he really wanted someone to tell him it was.

  “Have you checked this yet?” Simms said as an aside to one of her subordinates.

  “We’re on it,” the subordinate replied. He raised his voice to a shout as Simms ran from the room. “We haven’t verified it yet!”

  “Call everyone,” Simms ordered in return. “I’m not waiting around for a terrorist attack.”

  “Agent, take me with you,” Miller shouted. “I can help!”

  There was no answer. Simms left the room. Carrick eased himself back into the shadows.

  Shall I follow her, My Lady?

  No. We both know Lily isn’t going to this Yosemite place. She’s going home, Carrick, Lillian replied.

  I’m to go to Salem, then?

  No. Stay with Simms.

  And if she gets too close to Lily, what shall I do?

  What you must.

  CHAPTER

  8

  Lily’s eyes unfocused for a moment, the pavement still scrawling beneath her while the desert and mountains in front of her hung forever far away, like a movie backdrop. Lillian was reaching out to her. After a moment’s hesitation Lily let her make contact.

  Simms is coming, Lillian told her. She got information from the people at the house on the bluff.

  Is she going to Yosemite or Salem?

  She just arrived in Yosemite. She will know soon that you aren’t there. She tracks you with more than the pictures from the Walmart and the witnesses from the party. She tracks you with her yearning. Stay off the main roads.

  I will.

  Are you coming back to my world?

  Yes. Once I get far enough east in this world I’m going to worldjump my coven back to yours, Lily told her. There was no point in trying to hide her plans from Lillian anymore.

  It will do you no good to try and talk me off the path of war, Lillian warned.

  I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m coming back to exterminate the Hive.

  Finally, we agree. My army marches. Gather yours and join me.

  Lily breathed an ironic laugh at the thought of joining forces with Lillian, and then the laugh turned to a chill as she considered another enemy-ally. How do you know about Simms, Lillian?

  Lillian did not answer. Lily’s skin started to crawl.

  Did you worldjump Carrick? Where is he?

  Lily felt the connection end and brought herself back to the present. She glanced up at the rearview mirror and saw Rowan sitting in the back, looking at her.

  “Lillian?” he guessed. Lily nodded, still not completely sure how he always seemed to know who she was mindspeaking with. “Is she still planning to attack Bower City alone?” he asked.

  Lily smirked at him. “She asked me to join her, but she isn’t waiting around for my answer. She isn’t going to like what I have to say about teaming up with Alaric, no matter how much sense it makes.” A thought occurred to her. “There’s only one person she ever listened to, and it certainly isn’t me. Someone we’re going to need to pull this off.” Rowan narrowed his eyes in question. “Forget it,” Lily said. “Just strategizing.”

  Rowan nodded and let his gaze drift out the window, a vague smile on his lips. The rest of the coven was sleeping, but Rowan didn’t seem to want to miss one second of the scenery.

  “Where is she?” he asked after a long silence.

  Lily let her senses drift out to join her other self for a moment. She saw columns of men and women on the move. Loaded wagons, horses, and pack animals hastened with unnatural speed through the heat and haze of a humid forest. Around the army prowled guardians, and above the trees circled greater and lesser drakes to spot wild Woven, flush them out, and kill them before they could threaten human lives. Tame Woven hunting wild Woven. Not even Lillian could avoid using the Woven in some way, no matter how much she hated them.

  Lily thought of Pale One, her claimed, and reached out to her. It was far, but Lily could feel the sensory tangle of her mind, a chaotic swirl of scent and information, and she could feel the keen edge of her devotion. Pale One had managed to slip away in the confusion after she had knocked down Grace. Clever little creature. Compared to her, Lillian’s gigantic drakes were mere pets—impressive attack dogs, not true claimed. Unlike Pale One, the tame Woven created by the eastern Covens didn’t have willstones and couldn’t be claimed by a witch. Lillian saw her Woven as animals and nothing more. Lily knew in her heart that was a mistake.

  “Lily?” Rowan prompted.

  “They haven’t crossed the Appalachians yet,” she answered, shaking herself back to this world. “Lillian’s giving her army strength and speed, but it’s wearing on her.”

  Lily glanced up at the mirror and saw Rowan’s worried expression. “Do you want me to drive?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Lily said gratefully.

  She pulled over and they both got out, taking a moment to stretch their stiff limbs and wipe the cobwebs from their eyes. They’d been driving nonstop in shifts for sixteen hours. There was a chill in the early morning air and Lily heard Rowan suck in a shivering breath while he looked at the desert around them and the mountains beyond.

  Sand dunes rolled on either side of the black stretch of asphalt—a vast golden ocean, its heaving tides held in a moment. Sharp, young mountains spiked the clear sky behind them.

  “I don’t know which place is more lovely,” Rowan said. “The ocean or the desert.”

  Lily nodded her agreement, feeling the dry breeze brush back her hair and trace across her neck. “I think we’re about to enter a national park. The dunes or something.”

  A jeep came up behind them and they got back in the van and shut the doors.

  “Start the engine,” she told him.

  The jeep slowed enough for the driver to peek in their window. A young man wearing a wide-brimmed hat sat behind the wheel.

  “Park ranger,” she told Rowan. “Put your directional on.” She waved at the ranger to indicate that they were fine, and he drove on while they pulled back out onto the road. “Make a U turn. Don’t follow him.”

  Rowan did as she instructed. “Where to?”

  “We’ll have to backtrack a little and go around the park.” Lily pulled out the map and tried to find an alternate route. She saw in the rearview mirror that the ranger had stopped his jeep. “Go faster,” she told Rowan.

  “I think it’s too late,” he said.

  “I know,” she replied with a sinking feeling in her gut.

  She looked at the impassable dunes around them. They had to get off the road, but their van was no ma
tch for that kind of terrain. The rest of the coven felt Rowan’s and Lily’s anxiety and woke. A moment of viewing Rowan’s replay of the events, and they all understood the situation.

  “Don’t speed, Ro,” Breakfast said.

  “They’ve already spotted us,” Una said.

  “I know. But we need to be able to see any turnoffs we could go down,” Breakfast countered. “A dirt road. Something to get us off this open stretch.”

  “We won’t outrun them,” Lily said in agreement.

  They all scanned the side of the road. Caleb kept craning his head to look back.

  “I see them,” he said grimly. “Looks like the ranger’s brought all his friends.”

  Lily turned and looked back to see several dark specks on the road behind them.

  “There!” Tristan said, pointing. “A turnoff.” It was no more than a path through the dunes, but it was their only option.

  Rowan cranked the wheel. Sand kicked up behind them as they turned. Lily looked back at the telltale cloud, and drew in a breath. Her willstone flared as she stole the momentum out of the particles of sand and grit, first stilling the cloud and then dropping it back to the ground, covering their tracks.

  “Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it, Lily,” Rowan said, teeth clenched as he focused on maintaining control. Sand slipped under the wheels and the ungainly van slid as if on snow.

  As Lily quieted the dust, she softened the light hitting the van as well. Without sunlight reflecting off the metal, the tan van blended seamlessly into the tan sand.

  Ten minutes, fifteen, half an hour passed, and still there was no sign that they were being followed. They jolted down the path at an arduously slow rate, the axle creaking and the engine growing hotter as the sun climbed in the sky and turned its glaring gaze on the desert.

  Lily put her hand on the dashboard and took as much heat from the engine as she could, but there was nothing she could do about the axle if it broke. She fed her mechanics’ willstones with the harvested energy, and as the hours passed the coven grew drunk on strength. When the axle finally gave way with a screech, they were actually relieved to get out of the van and have something to do with all that energy. Lily, however, was not at all happy to have to walk.

  She stepped out of the shade of the van and into the sun and felt her fair skin tighten in rebellion. Rowan opened his pack and started stuffing packets of salty chips in it for Lily.

  “Keep converting as much of the sun’s energy as you can,” he told her. “That will help. And I have plenty of burn salve for later.”

  “Great,” Lily mumbled. She took out a long-sleeved hoodie from her pack and put it on, opting to swelter rather than burn.

  Tristan counted the remaining water bottles and glanced at the map. “It’s not bad news, but it isn’t great,” he told Rowan. “We have enough to get us to the next gas station across the dunes, but that would be pushing it.”

  “We’ll push it, then,” Rowan said. He didn’t have to remind them that they couldn’t wait a few hours for the sun to set. They had to keep moving.

  Rowan took one of the water bottles and shook a combination of herbs into it. “Here,” he said, pulling Lily aside and giving her the spiked water. “It will give you a temporary burst of energy.”

  Lily drank it down and felt a jittery lightness quicken her muscles and widen her eyes. The coven set off into the dunes, gliding with unnatural speed over the sand.

  Carrick heard the crackle of speech coming through the black device on Simms’s hip and adjusted his uniform to cover the spot of blood on the collar. So many officers had come and gone while Simms plowed on without sleep that she hadn’t noticed when Carrick “replaced” the former occupant of this particular uniform and made himself a fixture at her side.

  “A group of teenagers that fit the description was just seen heading toward Great Sand Dunes National Park in Colorado,” said the disembodied voice. “They had California plates.”

  The voice went on to recite the number and letter combination that Carrick had seen on the van. It was Lily’s coven. Somehow Simms’s face lit up with recognition, although she hadn’t seen the plate number as Carrick had.

  “That’s them,” she said into the device. “I want them followed, but no one is to approach until I get there.” Simms turned to another officer in plainclothes. “Start the chopper,” she said. Her eyes were dilated and Carrick could smell adrenaline-tinged sweat starting to seep up through her pores, but the other officer balked.

  “We’ve gotten a dozen of these calls,” he argued. “Half the high school graduates in the US are taking road trips to the national parks right now. Why don’t we have the locals pull them over and send us pictures for our informant to identify?”

  “Abbot, it’s them,” Simms said. “I know it. We’re just wasting time.” Her irrational vehemence only weakened her position in the other officer’s eyes.

  The officer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s been a really long couple of days.”

  “It’s them,” Simms promised quietly. “Something’s been wrong with this whole situation right from the start. Strange disappearances. Ritual murders. And now talk of a nuclear weapon. We need to stop them before they do something . . .” Simms trailed off, unable to pinpoint what it was she thought they might do.

  “We don’t know it’s even them,” he began.

  Simms didn’t stay to hear the rest. She stepped around the other officer and went outside to order the chopper for herself.

  “Damn it,” Abbot said, giving in. “Send backup to her location.”

  “How much?” another officer asked.

  “All of it,” Abbot answered, throwing up his hands.

  Carrick followed Simms outside. She was shouting at the helmsman of a small aircraft that had rotary blades on top. The blades seemed to chop the air, and Carrick put two and two together.

  “I am in charge here, not Abbot,” Simms was yelling at the helmsman, “and I don’t think I need to remind you that these are terrorists we’re dealing with, and—” She noticed another figure approaching the aircraft. It was Miller, the informant. “What are you doing here?” she shouted at the desperate young man.

  “I’m coming with you,” he said. “It’s her, we both know it.” Miller shifted from foot to foot. “I have to come with you.”

  Simms looked at Carrick as if noticing him for the first time. “And you?”

  “Chief Abbot ordered me to go with you,” he lied smoothly. Carrick looked at the helmsman. “He said we’d better get moving,” he said with the hint of warning that two underlings would use while dealing with petulant superiors.

  The helmsman threw up his hands and starting hitting buttons. “Everyone in,” he said.

  Carrick jumped up into the back row of the chopper and let Simms take the place in front of him. Not that she noticed him, anyway. Both she and Miller were too intent on being near Lily’s power to care about anything else. Carrick smiled slightly and stared at the back of Simms’s head while the chopper took to the sky.

  People always looked the wrong way when they were looking forward to something, he thought.

  Lily. Simms has found you. She’s in flight and approaching rapidly with many people in uniform following behind. They heard you discussing Alaric’s bombs and they gave you a special name that has swelled the ranks of your opposition.

  What name?

  Terrorist.

  Lily stopped and looked across the street at the gas station that was just a few hundred yards away, the word still whispering ominously in her head.

  “What is it?” Rowan asked.

  “Simms found us. She’s close.”

  The coven looked down the narrow strip of asphalt until it shimmered in the distance. It was a back road, seldom used. The only car they’d seen on it since they’d emerged from the dunes was a big-rig truck that sped by with a roar and a gust of baked air.

  “We need water,” Una said.

  Li
ly swallowed. Tristan watched her with worried eyes. She tried to smile at him, but it hurt her cracked lips. He looked up at the gas station and made a frustrated sound.

  “I’m going in,” he said. Rowan’s hand shot out to stop him, but Tristan shook it off. “We won’t make it to the next one. It’s now or never, Ro,” he said. Rowan gave in.

  Breakfast sighed and followed Tristan. “I guess someone who’s actually seen American money ought to go with him.”

  The rest of the coven stayed on the other side of the road with the dunes behind them. The wind whistled past, snatching moisture from their bodies. The sky was streaked with white clouds that were stretched so thin they only served to turn the blue milky. They had entered the never-ending late afternoon of a summer day—the time of antsy, exasperated waiting for sunset.

  The witching hour, someone else whispered inside Lily’s head.

  “I swear to Christmas that if he’s in there bullshitting with the cashier . . .” Una let her threat run out.

  Breakfast appeared after what felt like an eternal five minutes. He was halfway across the street when Lily saw Tristan’s bright smile as he emerged from the shop. Then she heard the woof-woof-woof of the helicopter.

  “Run!” Caleb hollered.

  Blue and red lights flashed to the left and the right, both lanes suddenly filled with police cars converging on their location. Breakfast bounded the last few steps across the street to grab Una’s outstretched hands. A helicopter lifted up and over the phalanx of police cars to hover above the coven. The air spilled down on top of their heads like water being poured from above.

  Rowan glanced at Lily, a regretful smile on his face. Just over his far shoulder, but separated by distance and bad fortune, was Tristan, stranded on the other side of the road. He knew what she was thinking before she did.

  Not him too. Not both of them.

  “I’ll protect him. Gift me,” Rowan said, his deep voice penetrating through the din.

  Lily called the heat of the desert to her. There was a lifting, like gravity had given up, and for a moment the cars, the police who were running toward them, and even the rocks and dust on the ground, let go of the earth and swam up for the sky. A boom sounded across the barren land and Lily’s witch wind spiraled up in a column as it threw her into the suddenly freezing-cold air. The helicopter gyrated drunkenly to the side in the updraft, and as it listed off, Lily saw the passengers inside as if in tableau.