* * *
Gideon waited for Juliet outside Lillian’s suite of rooms. Listening at the door was pointless. The Witch had set her wards. When Juliet did finally appear, her face had the pinched look of someone who’d just been in a huge fight.
“You’re back,” Gideon said smoothly.
Juliet shut the door behind her and started down the hallway. “As if you didn’t know that. How long have you been watching me?” she growled at him as she passed. Gideon followed her.
“I’m your sister’s head mechanic,” he said without a trace of remorse. “Anything that happens to you affects the Witch. Especially when you go running off into the Woven Woods to visit a camp full of your sister’s enemies.”
Juliet spun around to face him, her eyes flashing. “Are you accusing me of disloyalty?” she challenged.
Gideon had to admit Juliet could be quite pretty when she was angry. “No,” he said honestly. He knew that even though Juliet disagreed with every policy her sister had enacted over the past year, there was no one more loyal to Lillian than her sister. And if anyone knew whether or not Lillian had been able to do the impossible and make a bridge to a parallel universe, it would be Juliet. “But maybe you’d better tell me why you were out there before others—who don’t know you as I do—start to talk.”
“Let them talk,” Juliet said. She turned and started down the hallway again. “Lillian knows the truth.”
“She knows that there’s another witch out there in the woods—a witch who looks exactly like her?”
Juliet stopped and paused momentarily before turning to look at him. When she did, her face was a blank slate. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said lightly.
What a terrible liar she was. “Sweet Juliet,” Gideon said, with something approaching true affection, “you must have the purest heart in this universe.”
Gideon pivoted away from her distressed face and went to go find his father. They had plans to make. An infinite number of worlds had just opened up before Gideon, and he’d barely had a chance to imagine what those other worlds could offer. Or what he could take from them by force if they didn’t offer it.
But first, he had to find this other Lillian.
* * *
Lily finished washing up as best as she could by a small, muddy stream and joined Rowan back by the fire. Bubbling away in the flames was the small cauldron he’d used to make Lily her ankle-healing brew.
“What’s for breakfast?” she asked dubiously.
“Acorns. I have to boil them first, though. Too many tannins for you.”
“I didn’t know you could eat acorns,” Lily said, sitting cross-legged by his side.
“White oak acorns are the least bitter,” he said, stirring the pot with a small stick.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lily said with a little smirk. She had no idea what a white oak tree looked like, let alone one of their acorns. Rowan caught the look on her face and interpreted it correctly.
“Not a lot of woods in your world, I take it?” he asked.
“We’ve cut most of them down so we could build houses and stuff,” she said, wondering how Rowan could read her so easily. “I don’t know exactly where we are right now, but I’m pretty sure in my world it would be someone’s backyard. Some sleepy little neighborhood in Nowhere, Massachusetts.”
“Without the Woven, I’m assuming people spread out wherever they wanted?” he asked. Lily nodded. “Are there still large cities?”
“Huge ones. There are people everywhere in my world. Overcrowding is a big problem.”
“Amazing,” Rowan whispered to himself. “I’d love to see that.”
Lily stared at his profile. The gentle expression that crossed his face as he imagined her world—a world that was safe enough to fill up with people—softened his usually sharp eyes. “How old are you?” she asked, suddenly not sure.
“Nineteen. Why?”
“You seem so much, I don’t know. Older, I guess. You’re, like, an adult.”
“Well, yes,” he replied with a small laugh. “Legally, I’ve been an adult for three years now.”
“So you come of age here when you’re sixteen?” Lily asked.