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Lily’s mind seemed to jump into a fast-moving river, and the impressions of places whizzed past her. She saw hills and valleys and then mountains and vast plains. Her other eye skipped from speaking stone to speaking stone, each stone tinting the world a slightly different color, until finally her mind settled inside the claimed she’d named Pale One. Lily waded through a tangle of scents so strong and clear they glowed like colors that painted the whole world, and high-contrast images seen through eyes that were not built like her own. The mind she touched pieced information together differently than Lily’s did, but after a few tries, she deciphered this . . .
Inside, follow. Unseen, but here with me, she calls. Bite itch and lick. Need to howl, but stop. Biggers are close. Smell sweet stink of Biggers’ honey.
Lily asked Pale One if she could join her, and then her vision exploded with color and light. After a dizzying moment, Lily realized she was looking at a fern. She concentrated and panned out with Pale One’s achingly sharp eyes to see a glade, deep in the redwood forest. The colors she saw were richer, and she could see the edges of things more distinctly.
Lily felt the earth under Pale One. She felt the old minds of the trees, their roots running deep and holding the ground to their hearts like million-fingered hands. She read the vibration of the land. It was the low, thunderous rumble of a giant lung, the trees breathing for the whole world. Lily stored the vibration in her willstone and released Pale One.
Run to the rising sun, Lily commanded. Go east until you are safely out of Hive territory.
She calls. I run to where the wolves tend their meat, Pale One responded.
She saw Rowan’s face hovering over hers. His worried frown broke with relief. “Where did you go?” he asked softly.
Lily was about to tell him, but she thought of the expression of barely controlled disgust on his face when she told the coven about Pale One and stopped herself. Instead she just smiled and struggled to sit up.
She looked down at the two tattoos she could see, and was relieved to find out that although they were long, they were as thin as ribbons, and the ink Rowan had used was a very pale pink. She ran her finger over the tattoo on her leg and felt it more than she saw it. It looked like lace had been inserted under her skin.
“Is it going to stay raised like that?” she asked.
“Yes,” Rowan replied. “The compound I tattooed under your skin will help you heal faster each time you go to the pyre. It’s permanent, though.”
Lily studied the delicate filigree of the design. “Does Lillian have one?”
“She has two. One running down her back, and another down the inside of her right leg. I gave you three.”
Rowan’s face was impassive, but Lily noticed he didn’t meet her eyes. She wondered when he had given them to Lillian, and if they had been in love at the time.
“They’re quite pretty,” Tristan said appreciatively.
Lily smiled but didn’t say anything. She touched the one behind her ear that ran in a thin line down the side of her neck. It hurt, but the pain was going away quickly, as was the lingering pain from her burns. She felt stronger, and for the first time in her memory, she actually felt cool.
“Thank you,” she said.
Rowan nodded. “It’s my job,” he said, and then frowned uncertainly.
“It is your job, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Lily said. “You’re my head mechanic. If you want to be.”
Tristan helped Lily stand, but she found that as soon as she was upright, she didn’t need help anymore. She went to the speaking stone and stared at its milky white beauty.
“My army,” she whispered, and her mind whipped through the darkness, into the forest, past hordes of swarming Woven, and into another speaking stone that tinted the world blue. There, it swung over rolling hills until, finally, it settled with the thousands of her claimed still under Alaric’s rule.
Many slept, but those who were awake felt the light touch of her mind—not so much that they would be aware of it, but enough so that a brief thought of her would flutter through their minds like wind across a pond.
“He’s gathered them together to march west,” Lily murmured, her mind half here and half there.
“Do you know where they are?” Rowan asked. “I haven’t been able to reach Alaric. He’s too far.”
“Outside of Richmond.” She snapped out of it and gathered her robe around her against the chill. “That’s our first stop.”
Rowan nodded. “But first, you need to rest for one more night.”
Gavin awoke Lily at dawn more anxious than usual, which pushed him well into frantic territory. She heard him pounding on the door and she stirred in Rowan’s arms, not clear on how she’d gotten there. All she remembered after getting the tattoo was having something to eat with her coven, and then she went right to bed.
Rowan took a sleepy breath and threw the covers over Lily’s bare shoulders. “Come,” he called to Gavin, allowing entry.
“The Citadel is surrounded!” Gavin shouted as he tumbled into Lily’s room. “They came out of nowhere—just popped up from underground—the streets are full of them!”
Rowan was out of bed and sprinting up the hidden staircase with Tristan and Caleb close behind before Lily had even sat up. When she, Una, and Breakfast finally made it up there, Lily could see the tops of the Citadel bristling with the skeleton guard that Lillian had left behind to defend the city. Down below, outside the Citadel gates, the streets of Salem swarmed with people. The ragtag multitude packed every inch of street for at least a dozen blocks back, and possibly farther.
