Firewalker (Worldwalker 2)

“I didn’t want any more of them to hear a struggle and come help their buddy,” Tristan said shakily.

r /> “You have good instincts.”

Tristan smiled back, touched by the compliment. “I’m really trying to hate you, you know,” he admitted candidly.

“Yeah, I know,” Rowan replied, clenching his wet, frozen hands to warm them.

“I had her all to myself for years and I thought she’d stay mine no matter what I did.” Tristan laughed bitterly. “I told myself that I needed to get all the other girls out of my system first because I wasn’t ready for forever yet.”

“Maybe you weren’t,” Rowan said kindly. “Most people aren’t ready for forever when they’re eighteen.”

“But you were.”

Rowan smiled to himself. “Ready or not, it was forever for me from the first time I saw her. I was seven, Tristan. Not everyone’s built like that.”

“But you’re talking about the other one,” Tristan said, confused. “The other Lillian.”

“No,” Rowan replied enigmatically. “It was always Lily.” Lily heard Rowan stand and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. “We should get them up and get moving,” he said.

They woke the rest of the group quickly and quietly. Una was annoyed when she saw the dead Woven. “Why didn’t you wake me?” she said, angry to have been left out. “I need the practice.”

“Next one’s yours,” Rowan promised with an indulgent smile. “Now hurry. The scent of its blood has been on the breeze for a few minutes already.”

They grabbed their gear and moved away from the dead Woven. Rowan’s gaze kept lifting up to the treetops. He didn’t like to travel when it was still dark out.

“It’s nearly dawn,” Breakfast said. “Maybe we should just push on rather than trying to find another campsite?”

Una nodded in agreement. Tristan and Rowan shared tired looks. Between keeping watch and fighting the Woven, neither of them had gotten more than a few minutes’ rest, but they agreed to keep going. The group headed south, treading as quietly as they could through the snow.

By eleven in the morning they were all queasy with fatigue. Rowan dug up some frozen dandelion roots for them to chew on. The bitter taste was not pleasant but it helped to keep them awake and moving. He called a halt to their slowing march just after noon and told them to gather wood for a fire. In half an hour he had some kind of tea bubbling away inside his cauldron. Breakfast sniffed his portion.

“Not that I don’t trust you, but what’s in the brew, Mr. Wizard?” he asked.

“Birch and red clover. Improves circulation. It’ll give us all a little more body heat and energy,” Rowan answered.

They drank their rather unpleasant tea and rested for a few minutes, but they could all feel that Rowan was anxious to depart and push on before they were fully rested.

“How much farther?” Tristan asked.

“About seven or eight miles,” Rowan guessed. “It’s harder to gauge pace in the dark, so I’m not completely sure how fast we were going early this morning. I’m still hoping we can get to Providence by nightfall.”

He glanced around at the woods, his hair-trigger senses distrustful of everything. They doused the fire and moved out without any more delay. The thought of having to spend one more night in the open was motivation enough to haul them all to their aching feet.

The sun set, and they still hadn’t reached the walls of Providence. It wasn’t until after eight that they left the woods and came to a large, open field.

“Providence is there,” Rowan said, pointing across the huge field to a few lights flickering in the distance. “It’s about half a mile away. Come on,” Rowan said, turning back to the woods.

Tristan’s hand shot out to catch Rowan by the arm. “I thought we were going in. You said we needed shelter,” Tristan said, his fatigue wearing his patience thin.

“We’re looking for some sign of the underground train that leads into and out of the city,” he said. Rowan began pacing around the border of the woods and the field, looking down at the ground.

Breakfast copied him, wandering in the opposite direction from Rowan. “Should we be looking for, like, subway grates or something?”

“Yes.” Rowan looked up and pointed to a configuration of lights. “That’s the southern gate. A tunnel runs due south out of Providence, so it’s got to be somewhere around here. Look for vents melting the snow, or anything metal or man-made. But keep an eye out for Woven while you look. They tend to be even more concentrated around the cities.”

That struck Lily as strange. “Why?” she asked. “Most animals stay away from populated areas. They avoid people, in fact.”

Rowan looked up at her and shrugged. “Woven aren’t animals, Lily. Not natural ones, anyway. They come toward people. And the more people, the more Woven.”