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Lillian was sitting at the tea table in front of the fireplace. She was looking out the window, her gaunt face frozen. Sometimes, like now, when Juliet looked at her sister, she could see flashes of terror in her eyes, as if she were screaming on the inside.
Juliet had tried to get her sister to talk, to tell her anything about what had happened to her during those three weeks when she’d disappeared a year ago, but Lillian had never said a word. For days, she didn’t speak at all or let anyone touch her. When she finally did start talking again, the only thing Lillian had said was that she had a plan and she needed Juliet to trust her. And Juliet had trusted her, supported her, and defended her when nearly everyone in her inner circle began to speak out against her ever-crueler laws. Juliet had even stayed loyal to her sister when she had started hanging people. To her growing shame.
“Are you going to explain why you let her go, Lillian?” Juliet asked, without much hope for a response.
Lillian shook her head in answer, her blank face hardly registering that she’d heard Juliet at all.
“She’s lost,” Juliet persisted, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. “People saw her, and if anyone figures out what you’ve done, it will change everything. Nothing about our world will stay the same. The possibilities are just…” Juliet broke off and shook her head, overwhelmed. “Gideon’s already poking around, you know.”
“Oh, Juliet,” Lillian said tiredly. “Let him. It’s not like anyone would see her and think the truth. It’s too fantastic for anyone to just assume.”
“And what if they ask her where she came from?”
Lillian laughed. “They’d think they were talking to me and that I’d lost my mind. Like Mom.”
“Even Rowan? He found Lily, you know.” Lillian gave her sister a flat-eyed smile, and Juliet sat back in surprise. “You led her to him, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did,” Lillian said, her voice cracking with fatigue. “She’s from a world that’s so mind-blind that she still thinks my nudging her this way or that is intuition. She has more to learn than I thought.” Lillian frowned and reached for the glass of water in front of her, barely wetting her lips with the smallest of sips. Juliet had noticed months ago that too much of anything seemed to make her vomit these days. Even water.
“Why, Lillian?” Juliet pleaded.
“To train her.” Lillian looked out the window again. “Without Rowan, she’d never be strong enough in time. We need him as much as we need her, or this won’t work.”
Juliet leaned forward, reaching across the table for her sister’s hand. “What won’t work? Please tell me.”
Lillian took Juliet’s hand but didn’t turn her head to look at her.
* * *
Lily nearly screamed bloody murder when something burst through the underbrush, but she found herself strangely comforted when she realized that it was Rowan. She saw Tristan’s tense back relax a bit as he recognized his friend.
“Caleb?” Tristan asked, searching behind Rowan.
“Tracking the Woven’s trail, looking for their nest,” Rowan replied tersely, making his way to Lily’s cage. “We have to move her.”
As Rowan got close enough for her to see him clearly, Lily recoiled. He was covered in blood. Sweat-slicked skin peeked out from under his shredded shirt, and his face was stamped with the grim hollows of violence. His breath gusted out of him as steamy clouds in the frigid night air.
“Where are you taking me?” Lily asked, backing against the far side of her cage. Rowan ignored her and touched the lock on the door. His large silver willstone glowed, and the lock sprang open. He reached in for Lily, grabbing her arm and pulling her out forcibly.
“Easy, Ro,” Tristan protested. “You’re hurting her.”
“Then you take her.” Rowan shoved Lily in Tristan’s direction. “But if she bolts for the woods, her death is on you.”
“Fine. It’s on me,” Tristan replied. He took his shirt from Lily and pulled it back on angrily.
“No, it’s not, Tristan. I’m responsible for me.” Something snapped in Lily. She whirled on Rowan, her anger finally overpowering her fear. “Why the hell would I run into the woods when it’s crawling with monsters? I’m not a frigging moron. And I don’t appreciate being ignored, Rowan whatever-your-last-name-is. Where are you taking me?”
“Like I’d tell you that,” Rowan said, offended, as if she’d asked him for his bank-account number. He turned to Tristan with a sardonic smile. “She’s all yours.”
Lily sputtered impotently at Rowan as he busied himself, collecting useful tools and supplies from the camp. She wanted to scream that she wasn’t his to give away, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was a prisoner—Rowan’s prisoner, apparently—and therefore without much say in the matter. And if she were to be completely honest with herself she wasn’t even sure she wanted to be freed—at least not yet. She had no idea how to get back home and even less of an idea how to protect herself in this strange and dangerous world.
They marched through the near pitch dark of the forest for what seemed like hours. The only light Rowan permitted were the stars whirring overhead, and that feeble illumination seemed to be all he and Tristan needed to move silently through the forest.
Not so for Lily. She could barely see her own hand in front of her face and crashed blindly through the dark. Every time she stumbled over the uneven gro
und, she could hear Rowan chuff with displeasure. As the night wore on Lily could sense Rowan growing more and more impatient with her, like he thought she was intentionally trying to break every twig and fall down every gopher hole in the damn state. More than once Lily laid herself out flat, landing hard on the heels of her hands in the brittle, frost-covered leaves on the forest floor. After a few hours of this, she was cut and bruised in a dozen places, and by the time she twisted her right ankle so badly it made her cry out loudly, she was already on the verge of tears.
“Quiet, or you’ll get us all killed. You’re not fooling anyone,” Rowan growled as he tugged her roughly up off the ground. “And I won’t tend to that ankle for you so you’d better drop the act.”
