Witch's Pyre (Worldwalker #3)(16)

“Oh? Was there a problem?” Grace directed her question at Toshi.

“Just culture shock,” Toshi assured her.

“Yes,” Grace said. “I suppose it would be hard to take in, wouldn’t it?” Caleb made a disgusted sound. “Speak your mind,” Grace urged. “You didn’t like it?”

“Oh, the ships, the trade, that’s all great,” Caleb said, a knife-edge gleam in his eyes. “For you.”

“Go on,” Grace said, knowing there was more.

“You’re wearing a sachem’s headdress, but you’ve left your people to die.”

“Bower City is where my people are,” Grace replied gently. Caleb shook his head, rejecting her answer.

“You could send out scouts right now and tell the Outlanders that there are no Woven in the west,” he persisted. “They don’t need your charity if you’re worried about refugees, and they wouldn’t have to come here to the city. They could build one of their own. There’s plenty of room.”

“Okay, say I do send out scouts,” Grace said hypothetically. “For those who manage to get past the Pride and the Pack, what happens to the ones the Hive doesn’t accept?”

“Thousands would die,” Mala answered, on cue.

“Thousands are dying,” Caleb shot back.

Mala opened her mouth to say something, but Grace raised a hand to silence her. “Caleb, do you know what the Hive wants? What guides its choices? Or why it kills some and accepts others?” she asked. Grace leaned in, holding his eyes. “What if the Hive decides it’s done accepting people altogether and it kills everyone who tries to make the crossing? I’m sure you’ve heard the stories of whole tribes being wiped out.”

Caleb looked away.

“So we can’t tell anyone,” Tristan said. He raised an eyebrow. “And I’m sure if we promise not to say anything, you’ll let us leave and go back home.”

“Go north, go south—there isn’t anything out there, but you’re welcome to look,” Grace said. “I’m afraid the Hive will stop you if you try to go east, though.”

“Why? What do they care which way we go?” Lily asked, her frustration evident. Again, she found herself encountering a strange “rule” that the Woven followed for no apparent reason. No one hazarded an answer.

“I’m sorry to be the one tell you this, but the Hive won’t let you go east,” Grace said. “You’re welcome to stay here, at least.”

White-gloved porters filled all the water glasses. Lily stared at the one waiting in front of the empty chair, sitting there like an unanswered question.

“What’s the rest of the world like?” Juliet asked, breaking the long silence. “Are there witches and mechanics in other countries?”

“Not like here,” Grace said. “There are people with talent all over the world, but they lack the means to harness it.”

“Harness?” Juliet repeated vaguely, and then understanding dawned on her. “Willstones. You’ve kept the secret.”

“We have,” Grace said.

“In our history books back east it says that before the Woven Outbreak—which threw everything into chaos—the process for growing willstones was the most carefully guarded secret that the covens had,” Juliet said, as if to edify the westerners about eastern ways, but really it was to catch Una, Breakfast, and Lily up on the history of this world before they misspoke. “Even still, growing willstones is the last thing that only the most advanced mechanics learn in their training.”

“We do things differently here,” Ivan said delicately.

“Only the Bower Witch and two mechanics are trusted with the formula at any given time,” Mala continued for him.

“When either the Head Mechanic or his second dies, another is supposed to be chosen immediately so that the formula isn’t lost,” Toshi said, finishing the explanation. He looked at Ivan, and many chapters of their story together passed silently between them.

“So, only three people grow willstones for everyone in Bower City?” Una asked.

“The mechanics handle the growing, and they only do that for people who have talent,” Mala corrected. “We don’t give willstones to just anyone, like you do in the east.”

“I’m guessing you also don’t give willstones to people in other countries,” Lily said.

“Not unless they’re selected for immigration and come to live in Bower City,” Grace replied.

“But crucibles and mechanics in other countries can’t get willstones from the east because it’s closed,” Breakfast said, confused.

“Which means Bower City has a monopoly on magic itself and all the medicines, products, and power that you can create with it,” Juliet said, leaning back in her chair. She shot Grace one of her disappointed looks that Lily knew too well, pursing her lips and gently shaking her head.

“All over the world,” Tristan muttered, impressed. “They have to come to you. No wonder your docks are so busy.”

Grace tipped her head in assent. She could see that the easterners disapproved. “Greece kept the secret for Greek fire so well the knowledge of its making went extinct with their culture. China managed to keep the secret of making silk from the rest of the world for hundreds of years,” she said unapologetically. “Bower City keeps the secret of willstones.”