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She shared the important parts of what she’d experienced that day with her coven, but stopped short of showing them when Toshi embraced her in the alley. He’d only done it to conceal the fact that they were whispering to each other—if concealment is possible with a Worker at your throat—but still, she felt strange about it. She didn’t want Rowan to see it. She ended the memory right after Toshi guessed that Lily possessed more than one willstone.
Toshi is willing to let me claim him, but it’s too dangerous for him, she explained. He’s been set up to get caught trying to join my coven, or at least that’s what Ivan thinks.
Rowan recounted Ivan’s visit in mindspeak, but chose not to replay the memory. Lily didn’t know why he avoided it, but she noticed that since he’d been back he hadn’t shared any memories with her.
I’m going to inspect what Ivan gave to Lily, Rowan said. He stood up and went into his room. I don’t think there are any Workers in my bed, so I’ll pretend to be taking a nap and look at it under the covers. The rest of you should go about your own business as if we’re not sharing mindspeak.
Lily took her tea out onto the veranda to watch the sun set. Juliet joined her, while Caleb, Tristan, Breakfast, and Una went into the men’s sitting room to play at being relaxed by lounging in the leather chairs and pretending to read. Lily could feel the tension in them mounting as they sat too still and neglected to turn the pages of their books. She had to remind them all to breathe. It was a few minutes before Rowan contacted the coven again.
It’s a map, he said. The coven could feel how perplexed he was. He shared what he was looking at with the rest of them. I think it’s a way out of the city.
In double vision, Lily saw both the sanguine stain of the sunset over the rim of her teacup and the micro-thin sheet pulled tight between Rowan’s fingers. It took her a moment to realize that she was seeing a cross section of the city that focused mainly on what was belowground. There was one building aboveground that was used as a landmark, and what seemed to be a series of dug-out spaces below. Breakfast was the first to recognize the structure that was the point of entry aboveground.
That’s Hearing Hall, he said. It ruined my joke.
The caverns beneath it look like the Stacks in Salem, Juliet said. Where they grow the bio-assets.
Lily felt a spark of recognition from Rowan. You’re right, Juliet, he said. These tall, narrow rooms are the perfect size and shape for skinlooms and this main cavern is perfect for womb combs. But it’s huge. Much larger than what we had at Salem.
Um . . . what’s a skinloom and what’s a womb comb? Because they both sound utterly nauseating, Una interjected.
Skinlooms are huge frames to grow sheets of wearhyde, Tristan replied. Womb combs are vats that house ice lattices, which we use to grow both cultured meat and tame Woven.
I’m having a hard time picturing it, Breakfast said.
I’ll show you, Tristan said, and shared a memory of the Salem Stacks.
. . . I watch my feet go down steps carved right into the bedrock. So many steps. They don’t just go down, they also go out. It’s strange to think that by the time you actually reach the main cavern, you’re out of the city and what’s above you is the Woven Woods. I wonder what they’re doing up there.
Rowan has already been down here for hours. No idea how he handles the smell. Blood, blood, and more blood. No amount of cleaning can get the scent of it out of the rock. Maybe it’s because he’s an Outlander. He’s been covered in blood since the day he was born.
I reach the bottom of the steps and pass the rooms that house the skinlooms. I see a new apprentice mechanic—Gavin is his name, I think—pull out one of the tall, thin frames of the looms from the wall. It glides silently on its casters as Gavin stirs his brush in a bucket of culture, preparing to paint it on the frame. In two days it will be ready for harvest—a perfect sheet of wearhyde. They are what gave the Stacks their name, but I always thought that name was wrong. The skinlooms aren’t stacked on top of one another; they stand upright, like books on a shelf. I don’t know what you’d call that, though.
I enter the main room—a cathedral that soars up and up, the walls and ceiling lit by sconces that glow with magelight. The sconces seem to float like little bubbles of light against the rough-hewn rock. Below the ancient stone and eerie magelight are the stainless steel vats that hold ice lattices. The womb combs. Some of them are enormous, and they’re the reason the cavern is so high. My teacher told me they were made to grow the greater drakes—huge and terrifying as the mythical dragon. They only grow greater drakes in New York now, and even then only rarely. It’s been a long time since the Age of Strife when the Thirteen Cities warred with one another. Mechanics used to ride those things into battle. That must have been a sight to see. I’ve always wanted to fly.
I peer around a few of the smaller womb combs up front and spot Rowan three rows down. I go to him. He’s pulled out one of the lattices so he can inspect the crop of tame Woven embryos that are growing inside the hexagonal cells. It looks like a sheet of honeycomb that he’s holding up to the light. A dark speck of life is nestled in the center of each cell. I have no idea how he can do that barehanded. It’s like he doesn’t even mind the freezing cold of it. Inside the cell, cupped right around the embryo, heat is maintained by the crucibles who tend them. The rest is kept several degrees below zero. Less infection that way, but torture to touch, or at least I think so. Rowan sees me and gives me that lazy smile of his.
“Good morning,” he says.
“Afternoon,” I correct, and then catch myself when I see his smile turn into a grin. “I know I was supposed to be here at nine,” I begin, already explaining myself. Why do I always feel like I have to explain myself to him?
“Don’t worry about it. Come and help,” he says. He’s understanding and forgiving as usual. I don’t know what’s more annoying. That he’s genuinely better at everything or that he’s so damn accepting of the fact that everyone else is so flawed . . .
Sorry, Tristan said, abruptly ending the memory. I didn’t mean to
go on like that. Sorry, Ro.
It’s okay, Rowan replied.
Lily could feel their friendship repairing. The frayed edges of where their personalities met up were weaving themselves back together as if neither of them could remember why they were fighting.
The sun had set and the lights from the city below were winking on, terrestrial echoes of the stars above. Such a pretty prison, she thought. Lily put down her teacup and went inside.
The cavern in the map definitely looks like the Stacks, only much larger, Lily said, trying to get back on subject. But why would Ivan give this to us? Rowan—you said you thought it was a map out of the city.
Yes. Rowan directed their attention to the far end of the cavern. There was a steady rise in the gradient and a small opening at the end. That could be a tunnel to the surface.
Maybe, Caleb said. But that brings up another question. Why would Ivan want to help us get out of Bower City?
