It was a few words of Iroquois and a few of Sioux. I didn’t know what tribe he was from, so I tried a couple.
So cool. I knew you weren’t exactly white, but I didn’t think you were part Native American.
Rowan looked at her strangely. What the hell is a Native American?
It’s what we call … Forget it. Lily felt like an idiot.
The man brought them away from the main walkway and behind a row of larger, more ornate carriages that were nearly the size of houses. They turned a corner and entered a small, hidden alley. The man stopped, looked around anxiously, and then bent to lift a portion of the wooden walkway. Beneath the false boards was a tunnel and a rickety ladder leading down into the dark. Rowan briefly clasped the man’s hand in thanks and began descending the ladder. Lily followed, never once looking up at the man, although she felt him trying to search her averted face.
As soon as the wooden slats were placed back over the hole, Rowan’s willstone flared to life. It shed enough light so Lily could see the rungs beneath her hands but little else. Upon reflection, she decided that the fact that she couldn’t see just how deep the drop went was a good thing. After a few seconds of descending, Lily got vertigo and stopped. She kept imagining a rung on the ladder breaking under her foot and then plummeting into the unseen depths below.
“It’s okay, Lily,” Rowan whispered. “These tunnels are only a few years old. The ladder is really strong.”
Lily took a deep breath. “I hate the dark, Rowan. I’ve always hated the dark.”
“I know. You’re a witch.” His voice was low and comforting, even though she didn’t really understand what he was talking about. Lily felt his hand wrap around one of her ankles and him giving her a small stream of soothing heat and energy. “I won’t let you fall.”
Lily steeled herself and continued her descent. They went down one ladder, turned and went down another, and then started down a long tunnel. Beams buttressed the ceiling, but they offered Lily little comfort. They were down so deep, and the tunnel was so narrow that it seemed at any moment the walls could come caving in. The smell of earth and clay reminded Lily of her mother at her potter’s wheel. Worry suddenly jangled through Lily like a sour note.
I’m okay, Mom, she thought fervently. Please don’t do anything stupid.
After twenty minutes of walking through the tunnel, they reached another ladder and began to climb. Rowan went first. Lily could hear voices and the sound of footsteps above them. He turned and told Lily to stop when she was only halfway up the ladder.
“Stay here until I come get you,” he whispered. Rowan reached the top, knocked at the hatch in code, and it swung open. He climbed out and quickly closed the hatch behind him.
In the dark, without even the faint blue glow from Rowan’s willstone, Lily felt disoriented and vaguely dizzy. She held close to the ladder while she listened to Rowan talking to a few men and a woman above her. Lily inched up the ladder until she could make out what they were saying, her arms shaking with the effort to hold on.
“I haven’t heard any word from Caleb or the sachem,” the woman was saying. “But Tristan’s in town. I saw him at a bonfire last night.”
“Is it true?” a man asked. “You captured Lillian?”
“No,” Rowan said. “But I do have someone with me. And I need to keep it quiet.”
“You’ve never hid anyone from us before,” the woman said sharply. “Don’t tell me she’s with you.” A pregnant pause followed. “Did you give yourself to a new witch?” she persisted, her voice shrill with jealousy.
“I need food, a selection of blank willstones, and your discretion,” Rowan replied, clipping his words. “Now,” he added quietly. Footsteps shuffled off in different directions.
A few minutes later, the footsteps returned. One of the men asked what the willstones were to be used for. Rowan didn’t answer and instead requested that everyone leave the room. After another pause, Lily heard reluctant footsteps moving out of the space above her. The hatch opened and Rowan’s head appeared. She sighed with relief and made her way up to him, her hands cramping from holding on to the rungs so tightly.
He pulled Lily up out of the hatch and kept her hand. Moving her quickly through the small safehouse and out into the bustling streets of the city, Rowan reminded her again to keep her eyes down and to stay behind him. She kept her head down as they moved through a place with brightly colored lights. An acid-purple flash caught her eye, and Lily had to look up to see what it was.
“What are those?” Lily gasped.
The streets were lined with rows of glowing trees on either side of the road. The trunks of the trees only gave off a little bit of light, but the leaves were bright enough to cast shadows. Oak trees canopied into purple brilliance overhead. Willow trees cascaded glinting pink branches. Lily glanced down a side street and saw hues of green and blue, while this street was predominantly pink and purple, almost as if the streets were color-coded.
“What are what?” Rowan growled. “Didn’t I just tell you to keep your eyes down?”
“The trees, Rowan. The trees are freaking glowing.”
“Yeah,” he said, amused by Lily’s obvious shock. “They share properties with deep-sea creatures that naturally create their own light. Witches married the aspects of the sea creatures that made them glow with the seeds of the trees to provide free light at night in the cities. They look normal during the day, though. They only glow in the dark.”
“Bioluminescent trees instead of streetlamps,” Lily mumbled, awed not just by the beauty, but also by the cleverness behind their creation.
“Oh, the richer neighborhoods still use streetlamps—just to prove they can afford it. Now will you please look down?” Rowan asked, smiling.
Lily obeyed. In the eerie, almost neon light, she couldn’t see much more than the dirty concrete beneath her feet and the swing of pedestrians’ arms and legs as they walked. But even with her eyes downcast, she noticed people stepping out of Rowan’s way and then stopping to take a second look as he and Lily passed.
“Everyone’s staring,” she hissed.