“‘Purple mountain majesties,’” she mumbled, finally understanding the true meaning of that line from “America the Beautiful.”
“They do look a bit purple,” Tristan answered. “And you don’t have to carry us up them, you know.”
Lily turned and saw the painted streaks on his cheeks, identifying him as the other Tristan. He was holding out a bowl of some kind of salty, grain-based concoction that she’d been having for dinner while on the trail. She took the bowl and smiled up at him, struck by the thought that she hadn’t had much time alone with this Tristan. In fact, Lily almost felt as if he’d been avoiding her. He turned to leave her to eat her salty porridge alone, but she put out a hand and stopped him.
“Sit with me,” she said, offering him the patch of dirt to her right. He joined her, but was careful to leave a respectful gap between them. He was keeping his distance, and she couldn’t figure out why. “How have things been for you since … well, you know.” Lily tipped her chin at her Tristan, who was busy brushing down his horse.
“You mean since I met myself?” He gave a shaky laugh, and then furrowed his brow. “It’s the strangest thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s almost like my shadow came to life and started talking to me.”
“But it can’t be all bad. You two are spending a lot of time together,” Lily said. “It seems like you’re always together now.” She watched his face change with every racing thought and found that she was smiling to herself, enjoying how vulnerable his mobile features made him. It was something that both the Tristans shared. They both wore their hearts on their sleeves.
“It feels natural to be around him. Like I finally have someone who totally understands me.” Tristan looked Lily in the eye. “Rowan and Caleb were closer to each other than they were to me because they’re both Outlanders, and they’ve known each other longer. I’ve never had anyone. Until now.”
“My experience of meeting myself has been a little different,” Lily said, grimacing.
“Do you two share memories with each other?”
“All the time,” he said, nodding slowly. “We didn’t decide to start doing it, it just happened that way. It’s easier, I guess. We don’t have to explain anything to each other. We just show it.”
“It must be strange to see his memories and see the world that he and I come from.”
“Yes and no,” he said, studying Lily’s face. “One thing is consistent, though. You’re everywhere in both of our versions of the world.” Lily felt her cheeks heat up and looked down at her porridge. He laughed playfully. “For me, it was more a worship situation. But not for him. He’s always loved you, you know. Even when he messed up.”
“I know,” Lily whispered. “Is that why you’re keeping your distance? Because of him?”
“Because I’m used to keeping my distance from you,” he said, his smile a little sad. “You’ve always been off-limits for me, but this time I don’t resent that. He loves you more.”
The way he said more made Lily think he meant more than anyone—including Rowan. Before she could ask him to clarify, the other Tristan got up and left her to stare at the mountains that were turning midnight blue in the gathering dark.
Two days later they began their ascent. Caleb assured Lily that the trail they were taking wouldn’t require them to be roped up, but he was already making allotments for lost pack animals and supplies. There was no doubt that the terrain was going to get steep and rough.
“And the Woven are different in the mountains,” Dana added as they dismounted and started their ascent. “More raptors. Remember to look up every now and again.”
Lily tilted her head back and scanned the skies. She’d never seen a raptor Woven, and she hoped she never did.
“I wouldn’t try to study raptor behavior yet,” the other Tristan said with raised eyebrows. “I’d just duck for now.”
Since their talk under the tree, Lily and her Tristan had spent every guard duty taking notes on what they observed about the Woven, and they had dissected three of them together, but so far they hadn’t found a pattern in either the Woven’s behavior or their biology. Lily hadn’t given up hope yet that she would find something. She and Tristan had to work much too fast when they dissected, and a lot got missed. Woven organs were so full of toxins that they seemed to dissolve from the inside out as soon as the creatures were dead, and Lily still believed that she would find something if only she got a fresh-enough sample to work with, which was proving difficult. The fourth Woven carcass that was brought to them was so far gone there was no point in putting on gloves to take a look.
“It’s useless. You have to start dissecting it immediately in order to find anything that hasn’t been corroded,” her Tristan said in frustration.
“It’s like they’ve got a self-destruct button,” Lily added, her brow knitted together.
“And what doesn’t dissolve gets eaten by other Woven. One dead Woven brings dozens, like they’re their favorite food or something.”
Lily turned to Tristan, shaking her head. “That doesn’t happen in the natural world.”
Since then, Lily had told her braves not to bother bringing her any Woven that had been dead longer than a few minutes. Secretly she knew that if she really wanted to see what made the Woven tick she’d either have to dissect one still alive or kill one herself, which no one would allow. If she got hurt, they were all vulnerable.
The first day up the mountain her tribe made record time, but by the time twilight was falling, Lily was dead on her feet. Juliet came alongside her as they toiled up a steep hill to the campsite.
“You shouldn’t keep giving them extra energy,” Juliet said. “Save your strength for yourself.”
Lily smiled at her sister and shook her head. “If I lie down without being completely exhausted, I think about him. And then I don’t sleep at all.”
Juliet looked away, her face in shadow. “Isn’t it odd? They hurt us, but now that they’re gone, we beat ourselves up even more. Why do we do that?”
“I don’t know,” Lily admitted. “Maybe we think we deserve it.” They both let the conversation drop. Neither of them were ready to talk deeply about Rowan and Alaric yet, and they each got back to work. Work was good—it kept them both glued together.