Firewalker (40 page)

Laughter bubbled up through Juliet's tears. “Yeah, you are. Only my real sister would drag me all the way out here.”

Lily dropped her head and let her shoulder shake with laughter. At least they could still share a laugh, even if Lily couldn't cry.

“Where the heck are we, anyway?” Juliet said, looking around with a puzzled frown.

“Missouri, almost to Kansas,” Lily answered, even though that meant nothing to this Juliet.

“It's flat.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean
really
flat.” Juliet shaded her eyes and peered into the tricky twilight. “What's going on down there?”

Lily followed her sister's pointing finger and saw a cluster of buffalo suddenly turn against the tide of their fellows. From between the parting buffalo came a pale, loping figure trotting across the plain.

“That's the pale Woven,” Lily said, grabbing her sister's hand and stiffening. She hadn't seen the pale coyote in weeks, and Lily had thought she'd stopped following them.

“What's
that
?” Juliet asked in a shaking whisper.

The pale coyote stopped and came to rest, and a hulking shape that Lily had never seen before came out from between the now-scattering buffalo. It was twice the size of the already large coyote Woven. Its snout was elongated and its ears pointed like a wolf's, but the dark Woven's long forearms ended in what Lily could see were clawed, but still human-like hands. The wolf Woven had a stooped back and slightly shorter hind legs, like a hyena's, and it ran toward the pale coyote on all fours with a strange, rocking canter. The first word that popped into Lily's mind was
werewolf
.

“I think that's a member of the Pack,” Lily whispered in response.

The wolf Woven came to face the coyote Woven and sat back on its hind legs, looking for all the world like they were engaged in a conversation. They didn't sniff each other or circle around, like two normal canines would, but rather they sat very still, neither of them so much as twitching. After what seemed like forever to Lily, but was probably only a minute or two, the pale coyote stood up and went back the way it came. The wolf watched the coyote leave and then trotted casually through the herd of buffalo like it owned them.

Lily looked over at her sister. Juliet's mouth was parted and her eyes unblinking. “What did we just see?” Juliet asked fearfully.

“We need to tell the rest of the tribe,” Lily said.

“Were they
mindspeaking
?” Juliet said incredulously.

“I don't know,” Lily said, clenching her jaw in anger. “But we're definitely in Pack territory now, and they definitely have more human in them than anyone's been willing to admit.”

Lily stormed back to camp, calling in mindspeak for her inner circle to gather around the fire. By the time she got there, she had already relayed what she and Juliet had witnessed.

“I want to know why everyone seemed to leave out the fact that the Pack is half human,” Lily demanded.

“They
aren't human
,” Dana snapped. “It doesn't matter what they look like.”

“Does it matter that a coyote and a wolf just sat down across from each other like they were having a human conversation?” Lily sputtered. “See, that's something that would matter where I come from.”

Caleb and Dana shared a tight-lipped look.

“Just say it out loud, you guys,” Lily said tiredly.

“Our people have always given human attributes to animals,” Caleb said in a rare burst of anger. “We don't think of animals the way you do, Lily. We know they're not dumb. They cooperate, they communicate—they do lots of things that humans do. The thing that separates them from us is that we don't eat our dead. We bury them and we mourn them. They don't love their families like we do, or honor their ancestors, and it's an insult to
us
for you to keep saying that they're human.”

Lily sighed and ran a hand through her hair, feeling like she'd just stepped into a cultural minefield. “And what about mindspeak? What about using willstones? Regular animals don't do that, only Woven do. Come on, you guys. I know this is a big deal to you, but let's stop with the whole ‘they're so different from us' thing, because it isn't helping anymore. The Woven are more like us than they are like animals, whether you like it or not.”

“Even the insect Woven? The ones that eat their own offspring?” Dana asked angrily. “No. I won't believe that. And when you see the Hive, you won't believe it either. The Hive's Warrior Sisters look more human than even the Pack does, but the
things
they do—” Dana suddenly broke off with a shiver.

“You've
seen
the Hive with your own eyes?” Lily asked. As far as she could tell, Dana was the only person apart from Rowan and Alaric who had claimed to have actually encountered the Hive.

“Yes,” Dana replied. “When I was a child, before I had a willstone. The Workers just look like bees, but the Warrior Sisters—they look almost human. All females. All identical twin sisters. I only saw them once, and I don't know if what I remember is real or if it's a nightmare or I'd show you what we're about to face. I'm hoping it's just a nightmare.”

Lily could feel herself losing the sympathy of more and more braves, and she knew that by morning her tribe would be smaller. She saw the two Tristans looking at each other, and then heard her Tristan's voice in her head.

Leave it, Lily. The Hive is off-limits to Outlanders.

I've noticed. These Warrior Sisters have reached mythical proportions in their minds, even though only two or three people claim to have ever even seen them. I don't believe in the bogeyman, Tristan.

But they do. Let it go.

“Why don't we focus on the Pack right now, and fight the Hive when we meet them,” her Tristan said calmly.

“No one
fights
the Hive, Tristan,” Caleb said. “You just run.”

“Well, the Hive isn't here. And we can still prepare for the Pack,” the other Tristan said. “They hunt at night just as well as they do during the day. We need to get ready.”

Lily stood by the fire, hands on her hips, while everyone else split up and prepared for a fight. Howls rode on the wind as the last bit of light heaved itself over the edge of the horizon.

“Lily?” her Tristan said. She turned and noticed that he was still with her. “Do you want me to stay and guard you while we fight, or do you want Breakfast?” he asked.

“You. No, him,” Lily replied, quickly changing her mind. She grinned. “Una would kill me if I sent Breakfast out there to fight something he's never seen before.”

“He tends to lock up when he sees a new Woven,” he agreed sheepishly. “Only for a second, though. He's getting much better.”

“He's had to,” Lily said, frowning at the fire. “Do you think I'm wrong about the Woven?”

Tristan thought for a second before replying. “I think you're asking the Outlanders to change what they believe about the Woven, and more importantly, what they believe about themselves. That's a lot. Some of them will do it, some of them won't.”

“I'm just trying to find a way to stop the Woven from killing the Outlanders. Trying to eradicate the Woven doesn't work. Lillian taught me that,” Lily said, looking down and shaking her head at the irony of it. “But if the Woven and the Outlanders can coexist somehow, Alaric doesn't have to destroy the cities. He told me that the only reason he was thinking of blowing up the cities was because he couldn't fight both them and the Woven. If the Woven stop killing the Outlanders, then Alaric has no reason to attack the cities. The Outlanders wouldn't be trapped.” She spread her arms wide to include the huge tracts of land that now lay in darkness. “They could come out here and they would have all this.” Lily gave him a wan smile. “Piece of cake, right?”

“If it was easy someone else would have already done it,” he said.

“And no one has,” Lily replied, her brow pinching with dread. “Not on any of the thousands of worlds I've seen. Thousands of other Lilys have tried to solve this same problem and none of them have done it.”

“All it takes is one.” Tristan touched Lily's shoulder, and she turned to face him. He stood close to her, and his level gaze was full of faith. “It'll be you,” he whispered and tilted his head, kissing her swiftly before leaving to find Breakfast.

Lily stared after him, stuck in the moment. Of course she knew how he felt about her. He was in love with her. The trouble was, she didn't know how she felt about him anymore. There was a hole in her, and what amazed Lily was how big it had gotten. It had started where her heart used to be, and somewhere along the way the hole had eaten her through and through. And now, when she looked inside herself, she saw nothing. Not a good trade for Tristan—all his love and devotion for her big, giant nothing.

Lily shook her head to clear it and sat down next to the fire, reminding herself that she needed to focus. She reached out to her tribe, connecting their minds to one another as if they were spokes on a giant wheel. There were thirty-one braves out there beyond the sphere of firelight, and they needed her strength.

She felt Breakfast take a seat next to her and together they waited through the long night, listening to the mournful howls of the Pack circling just beyond the edge of vision. But the attack never came, and Lily never gave the order for her braves to find the Pack and kill them.

One by one, Lily could feel her braves deciding to leave her. While they sat crouched in the dark, aching to seek out the Pack and slay them, they lashed out at her and accused her of not doing as she said she would. They'd come west to kill Woven, and Lily was denying them that.

A part of her understood. A larger part of her felt betrayed. Knowing that all but a few braves outside of her inner circle of mechanics were going to leave her made Lily ache for someone—anyone—who could understand her. Someone who knew what it was to lead against the majority rule. There was only one person who truly understood what Lily faced. Herself.

Lillian. They all want to leave me, even though what I'm doing is for their own good. Killing the Woven one by one won't solve the problem.

No. It won't, Lily. The Woven reproduce too quickly.

My braves think I'm betraying them, but I'm trying to save them. I feel abandoned. Is that how you feel?

Yes. I understand what you're going through. I know what it is to do something for the good of the many, only to be hated for it. I even know what it is to hate yourself for doing it. I did what I had to in order to get out of the barn because I knew that I couldn't save their world, but I could still save mine. And I did it for people who despise me now.

What did you do, Lillian? How did you get out of the barn?

It is my most shameful moment. It's when I did the one thing I thought I would never do.

… I cradle the boy in my lap and use what energy I have left to ease his suffering. It's no use. I'm so weak I can barely hold his emaciated body in my arms, let alone calm his severed and screaming nerves.

River took his arm. The boy howls, screaming that his missing limb burns. I know what it is to burn. I wish I could do it for him. I wish I could do it for all of them. I grit my teeth in frustration and count the clothes on all the bodies around me. If I were to get them to give me all their clothes to burn, would that be enough to fuel me?

Fuel me for what? I can't claim these willstone-less people. I can't make an army out of lambs. I drop my face into my hands and scream along with the boy in my lap. They're all going to die, mutilated and starving in the dark. There's nothing I can do to save any of them.

But they can save me.

I must say good-bye to the person I thought I was, and give up the self-serving image of myself as
good
. Good people die with a smile, allowing the world to disintegrate around them, just so they can protect their precious understanding of themselves. But I will not allow myself to die in this barn just so I can have a hero's ending. I will give up myself in order to save my world—to save Rowan's world.

I make my choice.

“Everyone! Listen to me,” I say. “The doctor will be coming back soon, but I have a plan.” A few of the more lucid ones turn their eyes to me. I place the boy on the ground and stand. “I'm a witch and I know a way to get out of here.”

“If you're a witch, then where is your willstone?” asks one of them.

“I swallowed my stone when they took me. We don't have a lot of time left,” I reply.

“I recognize you,” another says. “You're the Salem Witch. They said you died in the blast.”

“There's no time to explain,” I say. “I'm alive because I can do something that no one knows I can do.” I smother the last bit of my humanity. “I can take us all out of here—to another world.”

Some of the lambs move away, but most move closer. They don't believe me, but they
want
to, and that might be enough. “Look at me,” I say, holding out my bare arms so they can see smooth skin. “Look how unblemished I am. That's because I wasn't here when the blast happened. I was on another world, and I can get you all out of here. I can take you back where I came from.”

They shuffle closer, confused. They trust no one, but they also have nothing to lose. I feel the boy touch my ankle and I look down at him. Before River took his arm I told him I couldn't help him—I couldn't even save myself. He looks up at me now, wondering which was the lie. I know I will think of that look on his face for as long as I live. And I must live. I must go back to my world or the same thing that happened here will happen there. I look back up at the lambs and smile brightly, selling my big lie.