They’d appeared inside the courtyard of the Citadel—the geographical parallel to Lily’s backyard in her version of Salem. The few guards who had been left behind to defend Walltop had believed she was Lillian, and they’d ushered the group inside without a word of protest. They’d looked in amazement at Samantha, back from the grave, but these were Walltop soldiers. They did not question their Witch. Everyone had been relieved to see Lord Fall back at the Citadel, especially with the Witch as injured as she was. Lily saw herself from Tristan’s perspective—a patchwork of black soot and red blood in Rowan’s arms.
She heard the words Lord Fall echoing in Tristan’s mind and she felt the struggle between envy and respect that had always plagued him sparking afresh. The elite Walltop soldiers honored Rowan and felt safer with him in command, while Tristan was merely an afterthought to them. Tristan looked at Rowan’s slack body, at the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, and something other than rivalry began to creep in on him.
Do you still love him? Tristan looked up at Lily as he asked this.
I’ll never love anyone else, she replied. But every time I almost let myself run back to him, I remember.
Remember what?
In order for you to understand, I’d have to let you feel something that might be too much for you.
Give it a try.
Lily nodded and allowed this Tristan to feel what it was like when she’d Gifted her Tristan right before he died fighting the Hive. She let him feel the measure of power she was able to give him. And then she allowed him to feel what it was like when she Gifted Rowan.
Tristan inhaled sharply, eyes closed, his face turning away from the enormity of it. Lily backed off when she saw sweat beading on his upper lip. She let him catch his breath before continuing.
That’s just a memory of what Rowan can do. If he had been my head mechanic when we faced the Hive—
You think your Tristan would still be here. You blame Rowan. That isn’t fair, Lily. Not even Rowan can defeat the Hive alone.
Lily grasped at a way to turn something that had just been a jumble of feelings for so long into one coherent thought.
It’s not just about Tristan, or about me. He abandoned all of us. When Rowan stayed with Alaric and let us fend for ourselves during the crossing, so many died because he wasn’t there to save them. I can’t forgive him for that.
But he changed his mind and followed us, Tristan argued.
He was following us when he should have been leading us. No matter what he felt about me, he never should have abandoned the coven.
She’s right, Rowan said, joining them in mindspeak.
Lily saw him lying with his arm up over his head, a sad smile on his face. She had to look away. Tristan opened his mouth to say something, but Rowan cut him off.
“No, Tristan, don’t. Don’t make excuses for me.” He looked at Lily, thoughts running swiftly behind his eyes. “Just let it go.”
The moment teetered, and when the rest of the coven stirred and woke, it landed on the side of silence.
“Is she still crispy?” Breakfast croaked, his voice rusty with sleep.
Lily looked down at the pink skin on her arms. “Nope,” she answered, poking her tender skin to test it. “I think I’m good.”
“You’re awake,” Una said, surprised.
Lily waved to her, attempting a weak smile. “I feel about as good as you look,” she said.
“Funny,” Una said, dragging a few fingers through the knots in her hair.
Rowan got out of bed, his demeanor turning stormy. “Don’t move around too much,” he cautioned. “It was easier to put you back together with my tools at hand, but you’re not completely healed yet.”
He pulled open a drawer and took out a white shirt, snapping it once to loosen the creases. Bare chested and completely at ease in this space, Rowan opened the door and let his voice boom down the high and wide corridor. “Gavin!” he called.
While Rowan pulled on his shirt, still stored after all this time in Lillian’s personal chest of drawers, Lily could hear the fumbling steps of someone scurrying to come to the door.
“Yes, Lord Fall?” inquired a blond boy who appeared before him anxiously. Lily remembered a younger version of him from Tristan’s recollection of the Stacks.
“Go down to the kitchens and order breakfast for everyone here. Then come back and clean up,” he said briskly, but kindly. “When you’re done with that, I want you to find some suitable traveling clothes for the Ladies Juliet and Samantha, and for the rest of the Witch’s guests.”
“Yes, Lord Fall,” Gavin said before turning and running back the way he came.
Rowan left the door open while he took up his wristwatch from the top of Lillian’s vanity table, snapped it on, and then gathered a few strangely shaped coins that he slid into his pocket.
“Where are you going?” Tristan asked.
“To get Caleb and bring him back to the coven, where he belongs,” Rowan replied over his shoulder. He stopped at the door for a moment to glance meaningfully at Lily. “I can’t let him make the same mistake I did, can I?”
As Rowan swept out of the room, Una and Breakfast exchanged a look.
“So that’s Lord Fall,” Breakfast said, his eyebrows raised.
“He’s very . . . lordly,” Una added. “It’s kinda hot.” She patted Breakfast’s arm consolingly. “No offense.”
“No, I’m with you,” Breakfast said in agreement. “I almost saluted him.”
Lily could feel Tristan watching her, but her eyes stayed fixed on the previously charged space that faded into listlessness now that Rowan had left it.
Toshi met Mala for lunch at the same seaside restaurant where he’d taken Lily. He was distracted, and annoyed that Mala was running ten minutes late.
He and Ivan had been desperately trying to come up with something to kill off the Hive. The problem was, Ivan had made them too well. They were disease resistant, able to bear high volumes of toxic chemicals, and they were immune to all of the lethal forms of fungus that can sometimes plague insects. They were running out of time, and Mala was wasting his.
She rushed into the restaurant in a self-important flurry, wearing a burgundy-and-gold sari that brought out the golden highlights in her dark skin, and a tissue-thin veil bordered by gold medallions that tinkled pleasingly when she moved her head.
The veil, Toshi thought, was a bit much. But Mala had never been one to exercise restraint.
“Grace tells me you have no idea where the Proctor witch went,” Mala said, diving right in before they’d even gotten their drinks.
Toshi forced a smile through pursed lips. “Lily never mentioned she planned on leaving,” he replied. “It was very sudden.”
“And the Hive just let her go?” She pulled a face. “That’s odd. But who knows why the Hive does anything?”
Toshi accepted his champagne from the server and took a sip to stall for a moment. Up until now, he couldn’t be sure how much Mala knew about Grace and the Hive, but it seemed she, like the rest of Bower City, had no idea Grace controlled them.
“Grace didn’t discuss Lily with you?” he asked in return.
Mala flicked her head and her veil chimed. “I honestly don’t care what happened to her.” She scanned the horizon, her expression a placid mask over bitterness.
“Just as long as she doesn’t come back?” Toshi guessed.
Mala shook her head and leaned forward, placing her forearms against the edge of the table.
“I’m past that,” she said. “It’s clear to me now that I’m not Grace’s first choice. And if I’m not her first, I’m just waiting around until the next Lily Proctor comes along.”
Toshi wondered how blind Mala had to be to miss the fact that there were no other witches like Lily Proctor. Not that Grace intended to cede power to anyone. Mala’s role as lieutenant governor was created to keep up the illusion of freedom. He watched a Worker land on the white tablecloth.
“What
do you intend to do?” he asked.
Mala looked down at her hands. “I’m done waiting.”
“You intend to leave Bower City?”
“I didn’t say that.” She leaned back again, adopting airs of confidence and relaxation he doubted she truly felt. “You’re never going to be Ivan’s second, you know. Grace told me months ago that she’d never let your confirmation go through.”
Toshi didn’t appreciate being baited. He narrowed his eyes at her. “What do you want, Mala?”
She gave him the first genuine smile he’d ever gotten from her. “We’ve never been friends,” she said candidly. “Which is strange, because we have so much in common. For a while I thought it was because you and Grace were involved a long time ago, and there’s always been an attraction between us.” She waved away her own musings without bothering to check if Toshi agreed with her. “The point is that both of us have been strung along by Grace for decades,” she continued. “But we’re not the only people in this city who’ve noticed that she’s been in power for too long. There’s a lot of people who—”
Toshi straightened with a jolt. “Stop talking.”
He stood up, threw some money on the table, and took her by the arm. She was so shocked that she didn’t even protest while he led her out of the restaurant.
He didn’t say a word as he pulled her onto a trolley, and when she tried to take her arm out of his grasp, he squeezed tighter. She grew still.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked under her breath. “To Grace?”
Workers began to gather on the railing of the trolley. They rubbed their tubular mouthparts with their forearms, tasting Mala’s fear and deliberating the threat level.
Toshi put his arm around her and nuzzled past her veil until his lips touched her neck. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered.
She smiled and relaxed. “It took you long enough,” she said, and wound her arms over his shoulders.
“Listen very carefully. You’re being watched. Every move you make, maybe every word you say—I can’t be sure.”
Mala’s chiming laughter matched the merry jingling of her veil. “Grace doesn’t have spies in the city. Believe me, I would know who—”
“Not who,” Toshi said, giving her a little shake to quiet her.
He pulled back with the lazy look of a lover and turned one of her medallions over in his long fingers. Subtly, slowly, he gestured to the Workers that were disbanding now that Mala’s fear had dissipated.
It took a moment to sink in, but as Toshi watched, Mala’s face transformed from disbelief, to fearful calculation, to outrage. Her breath quickened and her eyes darted around as she scrolled through a lifetime of private moments that were now violated, until finally, resentment smoldered inside her.
Toshi pulled her close and let his lips dip close to her ear, covering their conversation with her veil.
“We need allies,” he whispered. “People who aren’t afraid to fight.”
“I’ll take you to them.”
Lily put her feet down and tested her legs. When they didn’t show any sign of buckling, she stood and took a few steps. By the time she made it to the hope chest at the end of Lillian’s bed she needed to rest, and sat down heavily.
“If Rowan catches you out of bed, he’s going to freak out,” Juliet said.
Lily panted and concentrated on making the room stop spinning. “I don’t care what Rowan does,” she said petulantly. Juliet gave her a doubtful look. “Just don’t, okay?” Lily continued, “I’m not being stubborn. I have to get better fast because I have to get us to Lillian.”
“It’s not like she’s going to make it to Bower City anytime soon,” Una said over the top of the book she was reading. “What’s the rush?”
Lily didn’t have the energy to explain it to them, so she replayed a memory of what Lillian had shared with her just a few moments ago . . .
. . . My drake lets out a trumpeting bellow. I bank and return the way we came. I’m soaring high above the fourth battalion along the outer rim of the advancing line of my army. I have to keep shifting which battalion is on the outside to spread the risk among them equally, lest I sow dissent.
The Woven devoured fifty men last night alone. They’re attacking us on every front. It’s more than just coincidence. Grace Bendingtree is sending them against us, trying to pick off as many as she can. And it’s working. At this rate, my army will be dead before we get there . . .
“That’s why I’m rushing,” Lily said.
Juliet nodded and stood up. She came over to Lily and helped haul her to her feet. “Let’s get you closer to this food,” she said, steering Lily toward the tea table. “There’s a disgustingly salty vegetable broth that I’m sure you’ll love.”
Lily made it to a chair and flopped into it. She tore at a heel of bread and dipped the crust in her broth to soften it. “Where’s Breakfast?” she asked.
“He’s out running an errand,” Una answered. “He said he’d be back in a few hours—which should be right around now.”
“A few hours? What’s he doing?” Lily asked. Una shrugged but didn’t offer any more information. Lily turned to Juliet. “Where are Tristan and Mom?”
“Tristan went to check on his apartment, and Mom is going through boxes of her stuff. Or the other . . . her’s stuff,” Juliet answered, stumbling over the tricky grammar. “I’ve been told there are several rooms that belonged to the other me just a few doors down, but I don’t actually know this place like Mom does.”
“Or like Rowan does,” Una added, watching Lily.
Lily’s chewing slowed and she forced down the now-heavy mouthful. “It was hard to see him like that this morning,” she admitted. “He was never that comfortable in my bedroom.” She picked at the spongy center of her bread, pinching some off and rolling it into a dough marble between her fingers. “He’s going to see her again soon,” she said after a long pause.
“Don’t start thinking crazy thoughts,” Una warned.
“But they have history,” Lily said.
“Yeah—the bad kind. She killed his father, remember?”
Lily smiled weakly and dropped her head. “Our history isn’t so great, either.” Gavin appeared in the doorway, wringing his hands. “What is it, Gavin?” Lily asked, brushing the crumbs from her fingers and sitting up straight.
“One of your guests has returned to the Citadel with a stranger, My Lady, and Lord Fall isn’t here, and he told me not to let anyone disturb you, and I didn’t know if this would be considered a disturbance or not—”
“It’s okay,” Lily said, interrupting the anxious tirade. “Let him in.”
Gavin blinked his wide blue eyes. “Okay. But if he ends up disturbing you, you’ll tell Lord Fall that I was against it, won’t you?”
Lily suppressed a laugh. “I’ll tell him.” Gavin breathed in relief and rushed off.
“What did Rowan do to that poor kid?” Una asked, shaking her head.
“It’s not just Gavin. Everyone here is afraid of him,” Juliet said.
“It’s not fear,” Lily said, wishing she felt less for Rowan than she did. “It’s respect.”
Breakfast entered the room with a pale and grubby young man who had the lanky arms and legs of a recent growth spurt. Lily stared blankly at him until he smiled at her, and she recognized him as the boy from the Providence subway tunnels.
“Riley?” she said disbelievingly.
“Hello, Lady Witch,” he said, breaking into a brazen grin. “Sorry to see you’re laid up again.”
“Occupational hazard,” Lily mumbled and turned to Breakfast. “What the heck is going on?”
Breakfast and Riley sat down at the tea table and started digging into the cold cuts of meat and wedges of cheese that Lily had no intention of eating.
“I first got the idea when we were talking about how hard it was going to be to get Lillian and Alaric to work together,” Breakfast said as he spread mustard on a piece of black bread. �
�I thought then we were still going to need more fighters than that. It’s an all-hands-on-deck situation, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“And, let’s face it, if anyone needs land and a new place to live besides the Outlanders, it’s Riley’s people.”
“We’d be willing to fight for it,” Riley said with fire in his eyes. “My dad—all the men on the ranches—they aren’t afraid to fight the Woven. They live out there with them anyways, and at least if we were to go west, we might actually have a shot at having our own homes for a change.”
Lily held up a hand and addressed Breakfast. “How much did you tell him?”
Riley and Breakfast shared a look. “Everyone knows that Bower City is out there already,” Breakfast said.
“You can’t move an army west without someone finding out why,” Riley said. “Especially not someone with my connections.”
Lily suppressed a smile at the young man’s bluster. “Yes, but how much did you tell him about me and Lillian?” Lily asked.
“Oh, he told me there are two of you,” Riley said around a mouthful of cheese and fig jam.
“And that doesn’t strike you as strange?” Juliet asked.
Riley shrugged, his mouth still full. “Witches are weird,” he said, like that explained everything.
But he was young. Lily didn’t think that explanation would suit the hardened men on the ranches or the women Lily had met in the tunnels. Thinking of them, she sat back and shook her head, engaging Breakfast in mindspeak.
You should have asked me before you did this, she said.
I knew you’d say no if I did, he replied. You have something against the tunnel people and the men on the ranches.
Surprised, Lily weighed his assessment and found it to be true. She hadn’t liked Mary, the leader of the tunnel people in Providence, and the memories Lillian had shared with her about the men on the ranches still haunted her. Lily switched out of mindspeak to keep the nightmarish memories of those vicious men from seeping out of her thoughts and into Breakfast’s.
“It doesn’t matter what I think of them,” Lily said dismissively. “I can’t use them because they aren’t my claimed. They wouldn’t stand a chance against the Hive.”
Witch's Pyre Page 21
