Witch's Pyre (Worldwalker 3)

They’re trying to separate us, Caleb said.

Lily looked and saw Juliet being pulled out of Caleb’s protective grip. Lily started to panic. Out of all of them, Juliet was the most vulnerable. The Hive could sense that, and she knew they were going to exploit it. But Juliet was not the type to shut her mouth and go quietly.

“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.