Firewalker

by Josephine Angelini

  Lily allowed Rowan to ease her back down.

  That was harsh, Lily.

  Did it work?

  Yeah. He’s leaving.

  His favorite trick.

  Rowan’s breath brushed over her collarbones as he gave a bitter laugh. The feel of him near her was soothing. Lily shut her eyes and climbed back onto her raft, the pain bearing her up and over the dark water. She looked across the raft and saw Lillian sitting opposite her.

  My version of James wasn’t much of a father, either.

  Wasn’t? Is he dead, Lillian?

  No. He lives in Richmond. I pay him well to keep him there and out of politics.

  He’s not a bad person. Just—

  Spineless.

  Yeah. I wish he could have been something more than that.

  We have high standards when it comes to men, Lily. Nothing less than Rowan will do for either of us.

  You still love him.

  Of course.

  Then why did you hurt him so terribly, Lillian? Why did you hang Rowan’s father?

  Do you really want to know? In order for it to make any sense, I have to show you more of my story, and it isn’t pretty. It’s going to hurt you, Lily.

  I want to know—even if I also know you’re only showing me the bits and pieces that will justify what you have done.

  I am showing you the truth as I experienced it so that you can understand why I’ve done what I have. You can’t blame me for wanting to show my life to you in a way that I think will have the greatest impact. You’re still the one who has to decide whether or not you agree with me.

  All right, Lillian. Let me see the truth as you wish to show it to me.

  You must promise me one thing first. That you hide everything I show you. Not to protect me—but to protect Rowan.

  I’d never let anything or anyone hurt Rowan. Not even you or me. But you know that, don’t you, Lillian?

  Yes.

  Then show me.

  Promise you won’t show Rowan what I show you.

  That’s a lot to ask. I’m not sure I can hide anything from him. I’m not sure I want to.

  You’ve never hidden anything from him?

  Once. When I went to the pyre to fight you, he asked me if I was doing it for him.

  And you didn’t tell him.

  I couldn’t let him know I was doing it for him or the guilt would have killed him.

  That’s all I ask of you now—and for exactly the same reason. Think about it and tell me when you’re ready.

  * * *

  Juliet heard the knock at the door and left Rowan to fiddle with the computer for a moment on his own. She answered the door, already knowing who was standing on the other side of it and dreading the conversation that was to follow.

  “Hi, Tristan,” she said heavily.

  “How long were you going to wait to tell me she was back, Juliet?” he asked.

  “Look, Tristan—” Juliet began, but he cut her off.

  “I have to find out from Agent Simms that she’s been back a week? A week?” he stressed. Juliet had to look away. Poor Tristan had been through a lot since Lily disappeared—more than anyone, probably. “Where is she?” he asked.

  Tristan was about to push his way into the house when Rowan appeared at Juliet’s shoulder.

  “Now’s not a good time, Tristan,” Rowan said.

  “Who the hell are you?” Tristan asked, bewildered and offended that Rowan had used his name so casually. Like he knew him.

  “My name is Rowan Fall. I’m here to help Lily manage her condition,” he replied calmly.

  “Really?” Tristan said. His tone was loaded with sarcasm and more than just a bit of loathing for Rowan.

  Juliet could sympathize with Tristan. After James told the FBI that Lily was back, they’d had to come up with a cover story for where Lily had been and why no one could see her. The alibi was still a work in progress, but the one thing they stuck to was that Lily had been getting radical treatment for her allergies and wasn’t fit to see anyone yet—not even Tristan or the FBI agent who had taken an alarmingly deep interest in Lily’s case.

  “Yes. Really,” Rowan said, standing his ground. “She’ll get in touch with you when she’s ready.”

  Out of nowhere, Tristan took a swing at Rowan. Juliet half gasped, half screamed, but before either she or Tristan could process it, Rowan had blocked the punch and moved Tristan back and out of the doorway.

  “That’s not going to do anybody any good, Tristan,” Rowan said. He wasn’t even surprised. Again, Juliet wondered who this guy was and what his life had been like in this other world. He obviously knew how to handle himself in a fight.

  Tristan stared at Rowan in disbelief, and then shook him off. “I have a right to see her,” he snarled.

  “Yeah, I know you do,” Rowan replied, running a hand through his hair. “And when she’s ready to talk to you, she’ll get in touch.”

  Tristan backed away, still not sure of what to make of Rowan. His confusion and jealousy were apparent, and Juliet couldn’t blame him. Rowan wasn’t just good-looking, he was downright devastating, and he appeared to be keeping Lily all to himself. While Tristan had never shown real interest in Lily before, something had changed in him. Juliet supposed that there was nothing like losing a girl to show a guy how much he cares.

  “Tell her to call me, Jules,” Tristan said before getting in his car and driving off.

  Rowan came back inside and shut the door. “That was messy,” he said with a sigh. “Guess I should have expected it, though.”

  “You know him, don’t you?” Juliet asked.

  “Oh yeah,” Rowan said, rolling his eyes. “He’s one of my closest friends—more like a brother, really. He always takes everything too far.”

  “Yeah,” Juliet said, half laughing. “Moderation was never his thing.”

  “No,” Rowan agreed. He stood for a moment, watching Juliet.

  She knew he was trying to decide if she believed him now or not, but he didn’t ask. Good thing, too. Because Juliet didn’t know what she believed anymore.

  He went back to the kitchen and sat down in front of the computer, gesturing for Juliet to sit next to him. “Now tell me more about this Internets,” he said. “Can you really get any information you want from it, simply by asking?”

  “Pretty much,” Juliet said, shaking herself and sitting next to him. He was a quick learner, but he knew nothing about computers yet and Juliet was tired of ordering rare herbs and random minerals for him online. Rowan was frighteningly intelligent, though, and something told Juliet that in a few days he’d be teaching her things about computers she’d never even dreamed.

  “Sounds like magic,” he replied, looking back at the screen.

  CHAPTER

  2

  Rowan sat at the desk in Lily’s room, reading something on her computer. He was wearing the same dark wool sweater he’d worn before and a pair of warm sweatpants. His black hair was pushed up all around his head in a dozen directions, only making him more beautiful. Lily couldn’t decide if she wanted to stare at him a bit longer, or if she was so hungry for the sound of his voice that she wanted to burst the quiet bubble of concentration that surrounded him.

  She thought about reaching out to him in mindspeak, but stopped herself. He couldn’t know that she was in contact with Lillian, and she knew she wasn’t strong enough yet to keep all thought of Lillian out of her head while she and Rowan were in rapport.

  It wasn’t the first time Lily had avoided mindspeak with Rowan in order to hide what she was thinking, but it was the first time she felt guilty about it. The thought stuck with her, stale and lingering like a rotten mouthful.

  “What are you doing?” Lily asked in a voice that crackled with disuse.

  Rowan turned in his chair to face Lily. “This is amazing,” he said excitedly. “It’s like your people were trying to make up for everything you lacked without willstones and magic.” He laughed boyishly. “You don’t need
to remember things—your computer does it for you. And if you don’t know something, all you have to do is look it up on the Internets. Genius.”

  “Internet. Not nets,” Lily corrected gently. “Come here. It’s too weird to see you in front of a computer.”

  “It’s Juliet’s fault,” he said, grinning. “She taught me how to use it. Now I’m hooked.” Rowan came over, sat on the edge of her bed, and immediately began checking her injuries. He lifted up the edge of one of her bandages. “This is much better,” he mumbled, pleased with what he saw.

  “How long have we been back?”

  “Nine days.”

  “How is Juliet? How have you been getting along with her and my mom while I’ve been out?”

  “It’s odd,” he said slowly. “Neither of them knows me, but I’ve known them most of my life. At least Samantha doesn’t look at me like a complete stranger. She’s used to seeing me in other worlds, I guess.”

  Rowan’s face fell. Lily knew what he was thinking. The version of Samantha in his world had died not too long ago.

  “It’s disorienting,” Lily said, recalling how strange it had been for her to meet the other Juliet, and the other Tristan. “Has Tristan come by? Does he know I’m back?” she asked as soon as the thought of him entered her mind.

  “He came by once,” Rowan said, frowning. “Drink this.” He placed a straw between her lips and Lily sipped at the bittersweet brew.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  Rowan let out a frustrated sigh. “Well—you’d been gone for three months. Everyone here thought you’d been kidnapped, and when you finally did come back you were like this,” he said, gesturing to Lily’s extensive burns. “We’re telling everyone that you were at a private clinic to get radical treatment for your allergies. That’s how we’re explaining away the burns. We’re calling them swelling and redness from subcutaneous exposure therapy.”

  Lily nodded. “They tried that on me as a kid. I looked like a leaky tomato. But how are you explaining the fact that my mom didn’t know where I was?”

  “She did, though,” Rowan said, stretching out next to her on the bed. Lily tried to snuggle against him but Rowan stopped her. “Be really careful when you move. No friction,” he cautioned. “While you were gone, Samantha told everyone that she could see you, but she couldn’t get to you. Everyone’s chalking it up to your mother’s condition. They believe that she sent you to get treatment, but got confused and panicked when you were gone.”

  Lily grimaced. “And everyone’s buying that?”

  “Almost everyone. Juliet is backing her up to all the neighbors and the police.” Rowan shook his head. “Strange word. Police,” he mused. “Anyway, the police and another group, the FBI, were involved from the beginning. It was big news that you disappeared the way you did.”

  “Yeah, I can imagine. A teenaged girl with life-threatening allergies disappears into thin air with none of her medication. Right after having a seizure at a party,” Lily said, grimacing as she tried to picture it.

  “There’s one FBI agent who’s been particularly tenacious. Special Agent Simms. She’s the reason we had to tell everyone you were back. She was giving your father and Tristan a really hard time and we had to let her know you were alive so she’d leave them alone.”

  “Tristan?”

  “Yeah,” Rowan replied in a clipped voice. “He came by after the FBI told him you were back.”

  “And?”

  “I wouldn’t let him see you,” Rowan said carefully. “He has a mechanic’s talent in this world, too. I can feel the potential in him, and I knew if he laid eyes on you, he’d know we were lying. He was really upset when I told him that he’d have to wait.”

  “What happened?” Lily asked again, already imagining the worst. She suddenly yawned so hard her jaw cracked.

  “Don’t worry.” Rowan smiled down at her, a cocky glint in his dark eyes. “I kept him from doing anything stupid. You should call him.”

  Lily yawned again and put her head down in Rowan’s lap. He smelled like dryer sheets and wood smoke.

  “You’re going to have to meet with that FBI agent, too,” Rowan added. “She’s been putting a lot of pressure on your mother to see you.”

  “Okay.” Lily didn’t want to think about Tristan or Special Agent Simms. She wrapped an arm around Rowan’s hips and let her eyes drift closed.

  “Can you hear Tristan or Caleb in my world?” Rowan asked after a long silent spell. Lily stiffened.

  “I don’t know,” she replied.

  “Try,” he urged. “I want to know if they’re okay.”

  Lily concentrated and reached out to her other two mechanics in mindspeak, but heard only faint whispers that she couldn’t decipher. She tried calling to the particular patterns of their willstones and felt something stronger there. Lily could distinctly make out the unique energies that were Tristan and Caleb much more clearly than she could make out their mindspeak. She was still connected to their willstones and she could tell that they could sense her energy in them. It was comforting.

  Lily widened her awareness to the thousands she had claimed before the battle. She could feel them. Her army. They were scattered, but their willstones were waiting for her return. They hungered for her strength. Lily shrank away from the enormity of that sensation and nuzzled herself deeper into Rowan’s lap.

  “They’re both alive and healthy,” Lily said gratefully. “They can hear me calling them, but it’s a long way. I can almost hear them, though.”

  “Don’t push. Try again when you’re healthier.”

  “I can’t believe how tired I am,” Lily said apologetically.

  “Growing a new layer of skin takes a lot of energy. It’s best if you move as little as possible,” he said, stroking her hair.

  Through hazy eyes, Lily glanced at the mug of brew she’d just drunk, resting on her bedside table. “You drugged me, didn’t you?” she asked wryly.

  She heard a rumble deep in Rowan’s chest as he laughed, but she couldn’t stay awake long enough to yell at him.

  * * *

  By that night, Lily realized that she didn’t need to float into the Mist anymore. She wasn’t in pain, but she had questions for Lillian, and as usual, when Lily wanted Lillian even in the slightest way, Lillian knew. They met each other on the raft.

  Lillian?

  Yes, Lily?

  Why can I hear you so clearly, but I can barely hear Tristan and Caleb?

  We are the same, Lily. Our bond is much deeper than any other. That’s why I know you are the only one who can ever understand why I outlawed science and why I enforce that law so brutally.

  You said once that it all started with Rowan.

  Actually, it started with Mom, but I could never blame anything on her. You understand, because your version of Samantha is just like mine was.

  What happened?

  I still need that promise, Lily.

  I can’t. I can’t keep anything from him.

  Do you love him?

  What a small question. I’d die for him.

  But would you kill for him?

  I already have. I sent my army into battle for him.

  Then tell yourself that you’re doing this in order to understand me well enough that you don’t make the same mistakes I did.

  Very noble, but that isn’t really my reason, and I can’t claim that it is. I need to know because I need to know. You aren’t my friend or my sister—you are me, aren’t you, Lillian?

  Finally—you accept it, Lily. Yes, we are the same person in different circumstances.

  That’s why I need to know why I would hunt people down and hang them. Why I would murder Rowan’s father. Why, Lillian? Why would I do that?

  Promise me that Rowan will never know.

  Okay, Lillian. I promise.

  This is the moment everything changed for me …

  … Rowan gathers my curls up in his hands and twists them up behind my head. We’re in my study, but both
of us would rather be in bed. It’s late and I’m tired, but there’s still so much to do. My technical college is facing a challenge I hadn’t anticipated. I was ready to fight the Council and my Coven for as long as it took until they accepted that my school would not only admit both citizens and Outlanders, but it would also offer full scholarships to those who couldn’t afford it. What I wasn’t expecting was that there would be such low Outlander enrollment.

  “There’s your neck,” Rowan says, and runs his fingers down my nape. “I thought I’d lost it under that mane forever.”

  “I’m trying to work,” I plead through a breathy laugh, already turning to jelly. I look up at him. “Why wouldn’t every intelligent Outlander want to go to college for free?” I ask pathetically.

  “Because the loss of a healthy, intelligent young person is a big blow to any tribe,” Rowan says quietly, still running his fingers over my throat. “Everyone would try to talk that person out of it.”

  “But it means a better life,” I say, still looking up at him with pleading eyes.

  “For that person,” Rowan replies. “But not for the rest of the tribe.”

  I sigh and drop my head, letting him run his fingers through my hair. He knows my argument—that an educated Outlander could return to his or her tribe and make it better. But he didn’t go back to his tribe, and has no intention to. Why would anyone with a chance at a better life ever go back to fighting the Woven and living in poverty?

  “Lady?” asks a tentative voice by the door. Rowan turns and we both look across my rooms. It’s Gavin, a new page and a possible future mechanic of mine—if he can survive Rowan’s exhausting training, that is.

  “What is it?” I ask, noticing Gavin’s drawn expression.

  “It’s your mother, Lady Samantha,” Gavin says. “She’s on the wall.”

  I’m standing before he can say any more. “What is she doing up there?” I ask calmly, trying not to scare Gavin.

  “She’s … balancing,” the boy says timidly. “Right on the edge, like it’s a game.”

  I’m running now. I feel chilled and ungrounded, as if all the weight had been stolen out of my body.

  As we exit my keep, Rowan is in my thoughts, telling me he’s with me and that we’ll fix it together. He likes to fix things—needs to, actually—but I fear my mother’s fractured mind is in too many pieces for anyone to mend.