Lily woke up—really woke up for the first time since coming to this world.
She spent a long time staring at the tent over her, piecing together what Lillian had said when she was dying on the edge of the Charles River. She wanted to believe that Lillian had found a way to lie in mindspeak, but no matter how Lily turned the story over in her mind, it all added up to the same thing.
Lily was as stiff and sore as if she’d been kicked down a flight of steps. And for once, she was actually chilly. She staggered up off her sleeping bag on unsteady feet and managed to make her way to the basin in the corner. She sat down on the only piece of real furniture in the tent and peered into the mirror at her gaunt face. The angry red of the fever was gone. She looked pale. And sad.
The guys had left their shaving stuff scattered around the basin and Lily had to shuffle through their razors and soaps until she found a toothbrush. After washing her face and brushing her teeth she felt better. She still looked like death warmed over, but at least she was refreshed. Lily ran her hand through her hair and noticed that she was growing some pretty impressive red roots. They looked almost pink in contrast with the bleached white tips, and Lily thought it looked sort of cool. She wondered in an offhand way if Juliet would like it, and suddenly missed her sister desperately. Juliet, it appeared, was the only person in this world who wasn’t trying to use her.
Juliet?
There you are!
Are you okay?
Not really, Lily. I’ve gotten myself into a bit of trouble with Lillian.
What happened?
She’s going to hang three people on New Year’s Day. I tried to save them. I’m just glad you’re alive.
Lily felt Juliet leave her mind. An emptiness took her sister’s place. Knowing she couldn’t put this off any longer, Lily stood up and rifled through the different piles of boys’ clothes stacked around the tent until she found a dress. She slid it over the slip she was wearing and struggled to do up the laces herself. It was a gorgeous dress—beautifully tailored and embroidered with gold thread. She wondered who it had belonged to and where it came from. She wasn’t naive enough to think that Alaric’s tribe had bought it for her in a store, she just hoped no one had been killed for it. She dug in the clothes pile some more and found a cape that looked like it would fit a girl. She threw it over her shoulders and went out into the snow barefoot.
She could feel where her mechanics were. Lily made her way through the camp, turning heads wherever she went. Everyone who looked at her immediately glanced down at the three stones lying on her bared breastbone and hurried to get out of her way.
The camp was much larger than she’d thought. Lily had to walk a fair distance to make her way out of what she assumed was its center, where her tent was hitched, to find Rowan and the others, all the while heading toward the looming walls of Salem. As she felt her way through the grounds, Lily passed row after row of booths, tents, stalls, and stables. There were thousands, possibly even tens of thousands, of people camped here—and most of them were heavily armed.
There was urgency in the air. Lily looked up at the walls beyond the camp, and saw flashes of light. The great wall surrounding Salem bristled with soldiers. A chill ran down her spine. Lily had zero battle experience, but even she knew that the two sides were facing off with each other. A war was brewing.
Lily hadn’t seen much of the city while she was there, but she did know that it was modern, rich, and filled with resources. It also had a witch who could fuel her claimed with superhuman strength. As she passed through the camp, it seemed centuries behind. The carts and clothes were handmade. The children worked alongside the adults at the forges and the bakeries rather than attending school. Lily thought of the two sides of Rowan she’d seen—the Rowan who fit so perfectly in his sleek city apartment, and the Rowan who knew how to make do in a simple survival cabin in the woods. She remembered how happy he was when he was serving a huge meal to his friends at his stylish table, and how one jar of jam had been so important to him that he’d have rather starved than take it from another Outlander.
This camp was filled with Rowan’s people. They were a people who had never had any resources apart from the kind they found inside themselves, and as noble as that was, Lily knew they didn’t stand a chance if it came down to a fight. The Citadel was too strong.
Lily arrived at a huge armored cart surrounded by fierce-looking Outlander warriors. They had streaks of red and black paint on their faces, eagle feathers in their hair, and their dark wearhyde clothes were so similar they could have been uniforms. When she tried to pass, they stepped in front of her. They barely glanced at her or her stones. These were not the kind of men or women who were impressed by willstones and witches.
“I need to speak to Alaric,” Lily said loudly.
Half a second later Rowan appeared at the door. He looked her up and down with a funny expression. Her heart pinched at the sight of him, and then hardened. Why was it that every time she gave her heart to a guy, he almost instantly broke it?
Lily! You’re awake.
And I plan on staying that way. I’ve been asleep for too long.
Lily could feel confusion swirling around inside of Rowan as he picked up on her anger.
Is something wrong?
Lily didn’t respond. Rowan’s confusion turned to frustration.
I’m glad you’re awake, but don’t go through the camp alone again. Call to me first and I’ll come to you.
Why?
The Woven like to pick off loners and strays.
Lily’s stride hitched and her skin crawled.
But this camp is huge. They can still get inside?
Outside the walls of the cities, no one is safe.