Firewalker (Worldwalker 2)

“You’ll learn,” Rowan said confidently, and started back to the cliff. “Let’s get our gear and head out,” he called over his shoulder.

“Horses bite, don’t they?” Breakfast whispered to Tristan.

“Constantly,” Tristan replied, just to mess with him. He clapped Breakfast on the shoulder and then followed Rowan.

“You’re such a comfort to me in these uncertain times,” Breakfast called testily after Tristan.

They had their gear packed and the fire extinguished in minutes. Rowan led them south and pushed the pace all day. No one argued or complained. In the first few hours they passed what Rowan identified as Woven tracks several times, and no one wanted to linger even a moment to rest if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. By dusk, they were all slumping with exhaustion. They came to a small copse of trees that offered a little protection from the wind.

“Alright. This is as good a spot as any,” Rowan said, sliding the straps of his pack off his shoulders and dropping it to the snow.

“I thought you said we weren’t going to walk to Richmond,” Una joked.

“We’re not,” Rowan replied seriously. “We’re going to Providence.”

“Why?” Tristan asked.

“An underground train system links the Thirteen Cities,” Rowan replied. “We’ll ride it south while Caleb and the other Tristan come north. We’re going to have to sneak on, though.”

“Why can’t we just take the train to Richmond?” Breakfast asked.

“You really hate horses, huh?” Tristan teased.

“Because I don’t know if we’ll be able to get a train at all,” Rowan said, ignoring Tristan’s banter. “But the train tunnels will give us shelter, which is better than this.” He gestured angrily to the darkening woods. His tone made it obvious that he wasn’t in the mood for playfulness. “And because my tribe will be camped outside Richmond. I don’t know how far outside, so we’ll need those horses to get to them.”

Breakfast nodded, chastised. Una tapped him on the leg. “Let’s get some firewood,” she said quietly.

“No,” Rowan said sharply. “No fires. And no one goes more then twenty paces away from camp, and even then, you don’t go alone. Understood?”

Everyone stared silently at Rowan. He was usually so patient. None of them were used to seeing him stressed. Lily had only seen him this way once before—when they were hiding in the woods after Gideon’s raid, and Rowan had run out of salt.

Go easier on them, Rowan.

I can’t, Lily. We couldn’t be camping in a worse spot if we tried, but we’ve got no good choices anymore.

How bad is it?

You let me worry about that. You need to rest.

“It’s just for tonight,” he said. Rowan took a deep breath and calmed himself. “We traveled about eighteen miles today. If we’re lucky, we can push even harder tomorrow and be in Providence shortly after dark tomorrow night. Then we can all relax a little.” His lips hinted at a smile. “But not much.”

Rowan fed Lily a few more olives, anxiously checking her pulse after every mouthful, before nodding with a semi-satisfied look. “If anyone needs energy, take it from Lily,” he said, screwing the lid of the half-eaten jar of olives back on with a furrowed brow.

They lay down on top of the snow and arranged themselves in a circular heap around Lily. Each of them grasped one of her wrists or a bare ankle in order to stream her heat directly into their bodies. Tristan insisted on being the first to keep watch. After much coaxing, Rowan finally positioned himself next to Lily. Lily was asleep in seconds, and only awoke because she felt intense fear.

Her eyes popped open and her muscles tensed before she knew what was going on. In the dark she was just able to make out the shapes of Tristan and Rowan crouching defensively between the sleeping group and the dark forest. A bit of darkness broke off from the rest, and moved toward her protectors. Lily heard a rasping, inhuman moan coming from the menacing shape, and knew it had to be a Woven. She kept her head down and stayed perfectly still as she watched.

“Me,” Rowan called commandingly to the Woven. Despite his authoritative tone, Lily noticed that he kept his voice down, barely speaking above a whisper. “Look at me,” he said again. The creature seemed to obey. “Tristan, work your way around and get to its tail.”

Tristan moved out of the way, and Lily got a better view of it in the moonlight. It was one of the insectoid Woven that Lily had seen before, but like all Woven it seemed to have its own distinct physiognomy. Lily had yet to see two insect Woven that looked the same. This one’s head was shaped like a beetle’s with giant pincers for a mouth, but after the swarm of thin centipede legs that propped up its front section ended, a snake’s tail coiled out behind it. It must have been over four feet tall and fifteen feet long.

“Pin it, while I go in,” Rowan said calmly to Tristan.

Tristan threw himself down on the Woven’s long tail. The Woven hissed and turned to attack Tristan, but Rowan was on it before those long pincers could snip Tristan in two. Rowan thrust his dagger up into the underside of the beetle-like head. No sound came out of it, but the little legs in front wiggled and flailed, at first quickly, and then slowly until they stopped. The creature slumped over onto its side as Rowan yanked his dagger out.

Tristan stood, panting, and looking down at the dead Woven. “Do we just leave it, or try to drag it away?”

“More will come if we leave it, but I think it’s too heavy to drag anywhere,” Rowan said quietly, crouching down and grabbing a handful of snow. “We should wake everyone and move the group instead.” He looked up at Tristan and smiled while he cleaned his hands and his dagger with the snow. “You handled that quietly. That was smart.”