Witch's Pyre (Worldwalker #3)(107)

Because mechanics argue too much with witches?

Lily shook her head. “Because you have minds of your own and you can leave us,” she whispered.

She felt Rowan wanting to say that he would never leave her, but of course, he already had. His face fell when he realized that the complete honesty of mindspeak wouldn’t allow him to make that vow.

“It’s okay,” she said, “I don’t need you to say that. If I don’t treat you right, you should leave me. All of you. Caleb, Una, Breakfast. Even Juliet.”

Rowan dropped his gaze in thought. For a moment it looked like he was going to say something.

“What?” Lily asked. “I know there’s something you’ve been wanting to tell me.” But he shook his head, unwilling to answer.

“The queen should be close,” he said. “This nest is fresh. Let’s give her a reason to come back and defend it.” Rowan took Lily’s hand and brought her to the top of the mound. “That should get her attention.”

Rowan had Lily stand tall at the very top while he lay flat against the mound and covered himself with some of the mulch. It wasn’t long before Lily heard something coming through the trees, hissing.

The queen was enormous—fifteen feet tall, and twice as long. She had eight spidery legs attached to a bony body. Her head was triangular like an alligator’s, but it was her mouth that terrified Lily. As she stalked forward, she hissed another sinister warning and the pincers on either side of her mouth opened to display rows of needle-like teeth as long as Lily’s forearm.

Lily looked at the queen and deliberately kicked the nest.

The queen darted forward, her eight legs a blur as she mounted her nest. Lily fought the urge to run and planted her feet. When the queen was just inches from tearing Lily in half, Rowan sprang up from the mulch, jumped astride her back, and wrenched her head back, exposing the queen’s neck. Lily lunged forward, her gorge rising in revulsion, as she placed her hands on the queen’s pebbly skin and searched for the willstone.

As Lily claimed the queen, she saw as if through neon facets. The world had grown another color around the edges as if a new wavelength of light were now visible. Moving shapes left tracks across her eyes and chemicals lit up the air like dancing motes of information. Fear was not fear—it was extra energy to spur on action. Hate was not hate—it was nails on a chalkboard that needed to be silenced. There was no self. No conscience. No memory. There was only on or off, stop or go, attack or stay.

Lily separated herself from the exchange and looked at Rowan as he climbed down off the now-docile Woven’s back. She recalled him telling her a story about a little girl from his tribe who had tried to make a pet of one of the insect Woven. A shudder went down her back at the thought of a little girl cuddling up to something like the queen.

“You were right,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. “These Woven are nothing like us.”

Rowan nodded, also remembering the little girl who had been eaten by her pet. “Do you control the whole nest now?”

Lily searched inside and felt the web of creatures now bound to her by chemicals and scents. There were thousands spawned by this one queen. “Yes,” she said dully. It was not a pleasant feeling to share mindspace with these unfeeling creatures. “Unfortunately.”

He took her hand. “Where’s the next nest?” he asked gently.

Lily reached out to one of her raptors. “About twenty miles from here,” she replied, her gaze far away and eagle sharp.

Lily heard Lillian calling out for her and allowed contact.

Breakfast just told us that Red Leaf is teaching Grace how to spirit walk, Lillian said in mindspeak. Red Leaf told him that Grace is learning fast. Our time is up. We need to attack.

Wait, Lillian. Please. We’re dead if we go with as few fighters as we have now.

We can’t wait. If Grace learns how to teleport the Hive, the Thirteen Cities will be destroyed in a matter of hours. It’s now or never.

Don’t use that bomb, Lily pleaded. Give me more time.

Lily felt Lillian cut her out.

“What is it?” Rowan asked. Lily shared the exchange with him and he broke into a run, pulling her along behind him.

Lily heard what sounded like the flapping of a huge sheet and the drake’s talons raked the ground in front of them as it landed. Rowan pulled up short, surprised.

“I told you they were intelligent,” Lily said. Rowan didn’t argue as they jumped on Spike’s neck and flew to the next nest.

The hour when Toshi was supposed to have met his contact had long since come and gone, and still, he was stuck tending to Grace. Now he had no way of knowing how the tests for the sting antidote had turned out. He hoped Ivan was having better luck with the pesticide.

Toshi rolled the cluster of extra serum vials in his pocket between his fingers, unable to tell if they could protect him and Red Leaf during an escape attempt or if it was suicide to try. He played a little game with himself. If more of the vials were facing up than down he would risk it. He pulled them out of his pocket and looked.

Half up, half down. He’d have to make his own luck.

“Are you ill?” Grace asked.

“Tired,” he replied immediately. Respond fast and be as honest as possible.

“You’ve been working too hard,” Grace said, almost as if she cared about him.