Rowan Read online

  Lily didn’t answer. She pulled the flap down over the entrance and stood in the dark tent, panting hysterically. When her eyes adjusted, Lily saw what looked liked a rolled-up sleeping bag in the corner. She went to it quickly and laid it out on the ground. Her breath was coming in and out of her in fretful little gulps, and her hands were shaking. Kneeling on her makeshift bed, Lily cupped her hands over her mouth and tried to slow her breathing down.

  She wanted to go home. She wanted her sister to come into the tent and tell her everything was going to be okay. Lily crawled onto her bag, tears spilling down her face. All she could think about was that Juliet must be worried sick about her. Lily had disappeared into thin air, abandoning her without warning. Lily laid her head down and wished with her whole heart that Juliet could hear her.

  Help me, Juliet!

  * * *

  Gideon heard a furtive knock on the door of his personal suite of rooms at the Citadel. It was late, so late it was almost early morning.

  The girl across from him stiffened with fear at the sound. She was an Outlander who’d tapped on his window out of desperation. Or stupidity. Gideon didn’t know which yet. He didn’t think she had the right papers to allow her inside the city walls after dark, and she certainly didn’t have permission to be inside the smaller circle of the Citadel walls. If she was caught by one of the guards, she would end up in prison for sure. She looked at him pleadingly and Gideon smiled. He liked her better when she was scared.

  “Who’s there?” he called out.

  “Carrick,” answered the man on the other side of the door.

  “Give me a moment.”

  Gideon flicked his head toward the window. “Get out,” he said to the girl.

  “My brother?” she whispered, her eyes downcast.

  “That depends on you,” Gideon replied, “and on how nice you are to me.”

  She looked up at him, her mouth tight. She wasn’t an idiot, or pretending to be so virtuous she didn’t understand what Gideon meant, which was good for her. If she’d tried to play the shy violet after climbing in his bedroom window, he’d have hung her alongside her wretched brother just for wasting his time.

  The girl swallowed. “Then you’ll let him go? He’s not a scientist or a rebel. Really.”

  Gideon was surprised she had the nerve to ask him for a promise. He wondered how old she was. Thirteen? Maybe fourteen. Some of those Outland girls had smart mouths and seemed older than they were. After a lifetime of being passed over by the high-and-mighty Salem Witch herself, Gideon did not find female spunk endearing.

  “Ask me again and he’ll hang for sure,” Gideon said, watching a choking hatred rise up in her throat. Good. Now she knew where she stood. He smiled at her. “Get out, drub. For now.”

  She wasn’t crying, which could be a problem. If he hadn’t broken her spirits completely, she could come back demanding something. If she wanted her brother to live, she’d have to learn patience. And manners. Gideon decided it might be fun to teach her both.

  While the girl scurried out the window, Gideon put on a robe and crossed through his suite to the main entrance. He opened the door and led Carrick, his Outlander spy, into the sitting area. He marveled, as he always did, at how drubs seemed to walk without stirring the air. A necessary ability, Gideon assumed, for those stuck down precarious mine shafts all day and surrounded by roving bands of Woven all night. It made them good fighters. That, coupled with the constant near starvation of their poverty-stricken lives, gave them a survivor’s mastery of all the herbs and animals of the forest. Strength and knowledge of herb lore—those were two of the reasons Rowan had been chosen to be Lillian’s head mechanic, rather than Gideon himself.

  An Outlander, a drub no better than that piece of rubbish he’d just kicked out of his room, was head mechanic to the Salem Witch. Or he had been until she sent him away.

  “Set the wards,” Carrick whispered.

  Gideon shook off the all-consuming swell of irritation that always accompanied any thought of Rowan and concentrated so that he could cast a ward spell around the room to be neither heard nor felt by anyone else inside the Citadel. A pulse of silvery blue light throbbed around the room as Gideon’s ward formed a bubble of protection around them.

  “The room is sealed,” Gideon said, moving his hand away from his willstone. “Speak freely.”

  “Minutes ago, I saw Lady Juliet leave the Citadel,” Carrick responded, the words bursting out of him urgently. “She seemed distraught—frantic, even. I sent a team of guards to shadow her, of course.”

  “Why so many? Where was she going?” Gideon replied, already on his way to the clothespress to dress.

  “The forest.” Carrick sounded pleased. “She left the city and went into the Outland.”

  Gideon stopped momentarily. First Lillian was found wandering around the Citadel, half crazed, and now dependable Juliet was behaving like she’d abandoned all sense. What was going on? Gideon needed Juliet alive—at least, for a little while—to get children out of her. “Did she have her bodyguard with her? A weapon?”

  “She stole out the southwest gate with nothing but a cape and a small handbag. I have horses ready,” Carrick said, his wiry shoulders already tilted toward the door.

  “Horses,” Gideon said resignedly.

  Gideon hated riding the damn things, and growing up in the city like a civilized person he’d rarely had reason to. He much preferred his luxury elepod, or even one of the trains that connected the Thirteen Cities underground, but unfortunately electric vehicles were nearly useless in the woods, and the whole idea of above-ground trains had been abandoned when the Woven were accidentally brought into being. Horses it was, then.

  “I have a tracking ward set to the guard captain’s willstone,” Carrick said, his own willstone flaring slightly with the touch of its master’s mind. He raised his eyes and met Gideon’s. “We have to hurry. Juliet is going deep into the Woven Woods.”

  Gideon finished pulling on a pair of pretty but stiff riding boots and turned to Carrick. “Lead the way.”

  * * *

  Lily felt a hand shaking her awake. She would have jumped at the touch, but she smelled a scent that was as familiar to her as her own.

  “Juliet?” Lily called plaintively into the dark.

  “Shh. Yes, it’s me,” Juliet replied. She was half in, half out of the tent. Lily sat up and saw that her sister—or, rather, her sister’s longhaired other self—had lifted up the backside of the tent and scooted only part of the way inside. Her luminous eyes were wide and wild. “What happened? Are you injured?”

  “No. Well, I was, but not anymore,” Lily replied, still struggling to kick-start her exhausted mind.

  “You’re healed?” Juliet asked, her face frozen.

  “Yeah.” Lily tried to tug Juliet into the tent with her, but Juliet resisted.

  “Come on,” Juliet whispered angrily, tugging back at Lily to draw her out. “We need to go! Anyone could walk by.”

  Lily crawled out of the tent wondering if she could trust this woman. She looked like Juliet, but that didn’t mean that she was Juliet. Every instinct in Lily screamed that Juliet would always be on her side, no matter what universe they were in, but Lily didn’t know if she could trust herself anymore. After all, it had been another version of herself that had kidnapped her to begin with.

  “I’m going to get you out of here,” Juliet said, her voice quavering with fear, but her delicate jaw set with determination. “You have no idea how dangerous these woods are, even in the middle of an armed camp like this. You’re not safe out here, Lily.” She clasped Lily’s hand in hers and crouched down, making a beeline for the trees.

  “How did you know where to find me?” Lily asked, ducking down like her sister did.

  “Seriously?” Juliet whispered, glancing back at Lily as though she didn’t believe what she’d been asked. “You were screaming for me to come and get you!”

  “In my head, yeah, but…” Lily stoppe
d talking as soon as she saw that look in Juliet’s eyes. It was the same I can’t believe you scared the crap out of me for no reason look that her sister had given her about a million times before, and it confused Lily even more. “Wait. How did you hear that?”

  “Close blood relations like sisters can mindspeak without willstones,” Juliet answered automatically.

  “But I’m not Lillian,” Lily replied. She didn’t understand willstones yet, but she did know one thing: Her whole life she’d felt as if she and her sister, and her mom sometimes, could read each other’s minds—without glowing magic necklaces. And now she knew that it was true.

  “I guess even if you’re not exactly Lillian, you’re still my little sister. Not that I ever asked for two of you, but there it is.” Juliet nibbled on her lower lip and then nodded her head once, as if she was making a final decision. “I’m not leaving you out here in the Woven Woods. I can’t. You don’t know how important your being here is yet, but please believe me. You’re in terrible danger.”

  “Where are we going?” Lily frowned suddenly. “You’re not taking me back to Lillian, are you?”

  “Not if you don’t want me to.” Juliet’s brow furrowed. “But I have to hide you somehow. If people find out about you and what you could be capable of—Lily, I’m frightened for your life.”

  Lily squeezed Juliet’s hand. “Okay. Let’s get out of here. I’ll follow you.”

  “Stop, Juliet.”

  Lily and Juliet spun around to face the deep voice that came out of the dark. Juliet thrust Lily behind her protectively, even though neither of them could see where the words had come from yet.

  “Rowan,” Juliet scolded, her familiar tone making it obvious that the two of them had known each other a long time. “How could you endanger her like this? She’s not Lillian. She’s lost and she’s frightened.”

  Rowan sighed. Apparently, Juliet was just as good at scolding in this universe as she was in Lily’s.

  Lily tried to pinpoint where he was. She could see bushes and even a bit of the trail, but she couldn’t see him. Rowan seemed to be able to blend into the shadow and starlight.

  “I don’t want to fight with you, Juliet,” he said, disarming Lily with his honest tone. “But I can’t let you take her.”

  “She’s in shock and she’s terrified. You allowed her to get injured,” Juliet continued, as if the Rowan she knew would never allow something like that to happen.

  “And I’ll kill her if I have to,” Rowan answered, finally stepping into view. He had his knife out.

  Lily heard Juliet gasp, like she was fighting back tears. Feeling rather ridiculous, Lily tried to mindspeak again.

  Hey, Jules. Can you hear me? Hello? But she didn’t see or hear any reaction from Juliet.

  “What’s happened to you, Rowan?” Juliet asked, dismayed. “Has Alaric turned you into another one of his painted savages?”

  “Careful, Juliet.” Rowan’s expressive mouth was pinched into a thin line of warning. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know the man.”

  “I know he’s little better than a wild animal.” Juliet pressed on with increasing heat. “Alaric has killed hundreds of guards—in all the Thirteen Cities—and he won’t even entertain the notion of peace. Rowan,” she said pleadingly, “I can understand you wanting to help your people, but how can you align yourself with him?”

  “Because Lillian and the Covens have made peace impossible,” Rowan said. “Only when the Thirteen Cities grant Outlanders basic rights and stop killing the people who can give them a better future will peace ever be an option again.”

  “Lillian says there’s a reason she’s taken this path,” Juliet said in a slightly more subdued tone. “That it’s for all our sakes.”

  “What reason could she have for killing scientists, teachers, and doctors?” Rowan ran a hand through his thick hair. His face was sad and lost. “Come on, Juliet. How can you align yourself with her?”

  Juliet looked down at her hands. She fidgeted with her fingers the same way Lily’s Juliet did when she was anxious. “She’s my sister.”

  The argument was over. Rowan approached Lily and took her hand out of Juliet’s. Lily tried to fight him off, but Juliet stopped her.

  “Don’t struggle, Lily. He really will kill you if he has to.” Juliet turned to Rowan. “And what about me?”

  “You have to leave immediately. I can’t hide you from Lillian’s mind if she seeks you, and I can’t have the camp discovered.”

  “She’s asleep,” Juliet said, shaking her head so that he needn’t worry. “She’s sick, actually, but I don’t know what’s wrong with her because we haven’t shared mindspeak in almost a year now.” Juliet seemed almost relieved to be able to tell this to someone, and despite the fact that Rowan was the enemy, Lily got the distinct sense that Juliet still trusted him. “No one knows I’ve left the Citadel, Rowan. I don’t want to get you all killed.”

  “I know you don’t, Juliet.” Rowan’s face pinched with a painful thought and his voice softened. “You never want anyone to get hurt, but people do. Every day. Go back to Lillian and keep arguing with her. Try to save as many people as you can.” He turned to the bushes and whistled softly. A painted warrior appeared out of the darkness. “Take two men. Escort Lady Juliet through the woods. Protect her with your lives.”

  The guard took Juliet’s arm, pulling her away. She smiled bravely at Lily, which only made Lily more afraid for her.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Lily asked.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Juliet replied.

  Lily watched, her heart climbing up her throat, as her sister’s narrow shoulders disappeared into the clutching branches of the autumn-bare trees.

  “She’ll be okay, right?” Lily asked.

  Rowan didn’t answer. Instead, he took Lily’s wrist firmly in hand. She wondered if he could feel her loathing for him through her skin. He stopped briefly to give instructions to another warrior, ordering her to inform Caleb and to send out scouts to make sure that Juliet had come alone, and then pulled Lily back to the camp. He led Lily back to her tent, opened the flap, and hauled her inside.

  “How did you reach Juliet? You aren’t really her sister,” he said harshly. “Did you touch her willstone?”

  Lily glared at him, refusing to answer.

  “Juliet isn’t a witch, and she has no fighting skills,” he persisted, his tone accusing. “She isn’t fit for the woods. You could have gotten her killed, coming here. She’s still in danger, even with the guards I sent with her. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “I didn’t mean to,” Lily said, frowning with worry.

  “Explain.”

  Rowan’s dark eyes glittered, and Lily was suddenly aware of how much bigger he was than her. She saw the knife in his belt and took a step back, glancing around the tent for anything she could use to defend herself. Rowan’s expression shifted. He backed off and put his hands on his hips.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” he said, as though regretting scaring her. “But I need to know how many people you contacted, or we’re all in danger, including Tristan. I know you don’t care about the rest of us, but you care about him, don’t you?”

  “I don’t want anyone to die—not even you, if you can believe it. I just want to go home,” Lily said, exhausted. “Juliet said that even if I’m from another universe, I’m still her little sister, and sisters don’t need to touch stones, or whatever.”

  “Can you mindspeak with Lillian?” Rowan asked calmly.

  “I think so. I think I heard her in my head before she kidnapped me.” Lily dragged a hand over her face. “But I thought it was my own voice, like I was talking to myself.”

  Rowan nodded, visualizing what it would be like to hear your own voice in your head. “Have you reached out to Lillian in any way since you’ve been at camp?”

  “She brought me here. She tricked me,” Lily said, her anger rising swiftly. “I wouldn’t reac
h out to her if she was the last person on Earth. Any Earth.”

  Rowan gave her a puzzled look, his eyes searching hers. Lily looked back at him, feeling the odd sensation again that there was a complicated language the two of them could speak if only she could recall the first few words. He looked away and swallowed hard.

  “Stay here,” he said over his shoulder, and left the tent.

  She heard him speaking quietly outside by the fire with Tristan and Caleb, telling them everything that had happened and deciding what to do next. They started arguing again. Yawning, Lily sat down on her sleeping bag and struggled to keep her eyes open while she waited to hear what they were going to do about her little jailbreak. Her body ached from the unaccustomed exercise and from the dozens of little bumps and scrapes she’d incurred. Her nose was stuffed up, probably from the leaf mold, and her head was throbbing. She rubbed her puffy eyes, wishing she could fall asleep and wake up from this nightmare. Finally, Rowan returned with another sleeping bag.

  “You’re tired,” he said, like he was reminding her she needed to buy milk at the store. She regarded his sleeping bag meaningfully, arms crossed.

  “I thought this was my tent.”

  “Your single-tent privileges have been revoked,” he said, looking down at his own hands as he unrolled his bag. For a second, it looked like he was smiling to himself, but when he looked up at her, his face was stern. “Lie down.”

  Rowan set his sleeping bag down against the foot of hers, in a T formation. She was just about to argue with him when a giant, jaw-cracking yawn overtook her. The truth was, Lily felt so exhausted that she didn’t really care where he slept. She stretched out on top of her bag as he climbed into the bag at her feet. He reached out for her, pushing his hand under the hem of her jeans and clasping on to her newly healed ankle. She tried to jerk her foot away, but he only held on tighter.

  “In case you try to wander off again,” he told her. His expression made it clear that there was no point protesting—he wasn’t going to let go. Lily settled back hesitantly while Rowan lowered the lamplight and settled down.