Witch's Pyre (Worldwalker 3)

14

Lily saw the milky-jade glimmer of the speaking stone and eased back in the stirrups to let her drake know she wanted it to slow down. It cupped its wings forward, essentially stopping in midair before the sheer cliff on the eastern side of the mountain.

Lily didn’t have all the proper signals learned after her single flight with Leto, but she had noticed that drakes were much more sensitive to commands than any horse she’d ever ridden and as such only required a minimum of direction—the rest, the drake figured out on its own by reading its rider’s body language. Lily touched the side of its neck with her heel and gently indicated by shifting her weight that she wanted it to land. She felt Rowan’s hands on her waist tighten as the drake flew them into the treetops, but to his credit, he didn’t panic when the drake clamped on to a violently swaying tree and scrambled down the trunk in a barrage of cracking timber and whipping branches.

As they dismounted, Lily realized she didn’t know how to make the drake fly back to camp. She tried pointing in the direction they’d come and saying go home to it several times, but either it didn’t understand or it didn’t want to. After a few failed attempts, Lily gave up and allowed the drake to follow her and Rowan through the trees to the speaking stone. It tucked its wings back and waddled alongside her like a very large dog. Rowan eyed it skeptically a few times, uncomfortable with being accompanied by a Woven in the dark, but again he showed a commendable amount of restraint and held his tongue.

“It’ll be a miracle if she’s there already,” Lily mumbled.

“Maybe not,” Rowan replied. “The Woven are capable of incredible things.”

Lily looked at him, surprised. “That almost sounded like respect,” she commented.

“Don’t get carried away,” he said, pursing his lips around a smile. He bent down to build a small fire at Lily’s feet.

She touched the speaking stone and reached out to Pale One. Her mind dove into the fast-moving river of the relay, whipping past thousands of miles of country, and finally rested inside one of the yellow-hued speaking stones on the Ocean of Grass. She called out to her claimed and felt her excitement. Pale One yipped and danced in circles.

Lily pictured the Pack. Where are they?

Close. Tending their meat.

Lily saw the seemingly unending herds of bison. She asked Pale One if she could join her inside her skin again. Pale One allowed it.

Lily felt the packed earth under her paws, and just below the surface she felt the gophers in their underground city. She telescoped out and felt the miles and miles of land pressed flat beneath its twin brother, the sky, and it dawned on her that once, long ago, water had covered this land as the sky now covered it. The pressure of the ancient inland sea had pushed the land down, muffling it. The Ocean of Grass still held on to that watery silence. Its vibration was a dull, sleepy thud.

She gathered the heat of a fire as fuel, called out to Rowan’s willstone, and jumped them to Pale One’s location.

She heard Rowan exhale a tensely held breath as he opened his eyes. “That is still unbelievably strange,” he told her, taking in their surroundings.

Pale One let out a series of whines and yelps as she came toward Lily with her head down. Rowan jerked backward, but Lily held out her hands to Pale One and she was greeted with a flurry of licks and nuzzles. Lily could feel she was hungry. She fed Pale One’s willstone with energy, and while she did, Lily felt Lillian reach out to her.

I did it! Lillian told her in mindspeak. I teleported to Salem and then I was able to bring someone back with me! I’m ready, Lily.

Wait for me, Lily replied. I’m gathering more forces.

From where?

Lily hesitated. She thought of how deeply Lillian hated the Woven. You’ll see. Just trust me. Give me one more day, she asked.

I may not have one more day, Lillian replied testily, and then cut contact.

“Lillian is ready to jump her army now,” Lily told Rowan.

“She knows she needs your army or she can’t win. She’ll wait for us,” Rowan said, but his tone was less than certain.

“She doesn’t intend on winning,” Lily reminded him, keeping her voice lowered. “All she needs is to get close enough to detonate. Or so she thinks.”

Lily looked at Pale One. Take us to the Pack, she asked.

Pale One bounded forward, flooding Lily with images from her journey as she went. Her excitement was quickly curtailed as she caught a scent on the breeze. Pale One stopped right in front of Lily, blocking her way and forcing her to stop as well. She howled into the darkness and the lonely sound was answered from a source close by.

They waited, Pale One tensing into the darkness at something the humans couldn’t see, until Lily felt Rowan stiffen. He unsheathed his long knife, thrust out an arm, and tried to put Lily behind him, but as he spun around in a circle she felt him deflating. They were already surrounded.

It’s a trap, Rowan said in mindspeak.

Then Lily saw them—dozens of pairs of softly reflective eyes staring at her. She didn’t know how far back into the gloom the Pack stretched, but Lily could feel that the darkness all around her was alive.

Not hunting you, Pale One assured Lily. They are afraid. And angry.