Witch's Pyre (Worldwalker #3)(60)

Carrick narrowed his eyes at her. “Tell me why I should.”

Simms gestured at the helmsman, and he cocked his pistol. “You aren’t going to be arrested or put on trial. There’ll be no jail cells or opportunities for you to vanish into thin air like the rest of them did. You’ll just die right here, right now,” she promised. “Or you can explain.”

Carrick smiled at her appreciatively. “This universe doesn’t suit you. But I know one that does,” he told her, and then began.





CHAPTER


9


Lily fell out of the sky.

“Catch her!” Rowan shouted.

Caleb was closest and managed to get under Lily before she hit the ground. He made a basket out of his thick arms and Lily landed with much less of a smack than she would have without him. He went to stand her on her own two feet, but picked her back up as soon as he saw how wobbly she was.

“Tired?” Caleb guessed.

Lily nodded, and the world swayed uneasily. But at least it was her world.

“Where are we?” Caleb asked.

“My backyard,” Lily answered. She dropped her head on his shoulder and let out a long sigh. “It worked.”

“Lily?” Juliet called.

Lily picked her head up and saw her sister’s anxious face poking out of an upstairs window.

“Juliet,” Rowan said, cutting her off before she could ask questions. “We need to come inside.”

“Yes, of course. Holy crap.” There was a thump as Juliet bumped into something in her haste, and the window closed. Lily could hear her sister scrambling down the steps as she raced to meet them. The coven trudged to the side door. Now that Lily wasn’t fueling them, the minor injuries they’d incurred and general fatigue from the fight were catching up with them.

“Get in, get in,” Juliet said urgently, holding open the door and waving them through. “Are you okay? What happened? How did you get here so fast?” Juliet asked in a rush.

Lily burst into tears and wrapped her arms around her sister’s neck. Juliet startled and then went with it.

“I’m guessing there’s a story here,” she said, smoothing Lily’s hair.

They went into the kitchen and sat down. Una and Breakfast took it in turns to explain what had happened. Lily tried to calm herself down, but the tears kept silently leaking from her eyes no matter how many times she brushed them away. A half dozen times she reached out for her sister’s hand and squeezed it to reassure herself.

Juliet handled the news of her death by deciding not to try to wrap her head around it just yet, and in turn brought the coven up to speed on what had been going on in this world since they had left.

“They’re calling it ‘The Black Magic Murders.’ It’s a media circus,” she said bitterly. Juliet remembered something and addressed Tristan. “No matter what you hear about your parents, don’t go home. They’ll turn you over.”

Tristan’s face went blank with confusion, and then pinched with an awkward apology. “Wrong Tristan,” he said.

“Where is he?” Juliet asked, looking at Lily. She pulled in a small gasp. “No. Not him, too?”

Lily nodded numbly. “He’s dead,” she said, just to make it real.

Juliet sat back in her chair as if she’d been slapped. She covered her mouth with a hand, her eyes far away. “I can’t—oh my God,” she mumbled. “I don’t believe it.”

“He’s dead,” Lily repeated, and for the first time she accepted it.

She put her head down on the table. It was the same table where she had sat down with Tristan a thousand times to eat, to play, to talk, and to argue. The memories swam up out of the wood—Tristan dealing cards, puffing on a bubble gum cigar. The two of them switching chairs to put together an impossible puzzle with a picture of a pile of red candy hearts on the front. Tristan eating a hot dog with grape jelly. Doing homework together. Doing nothing together. Lily let herself cry until she felt a hand on her back.

“It’s okay, Lillian,” Samantha said.

Lily raised her head and turned to bury it in her mother’s stomach. “It’s my fault,” she sobbed. “I’m the reason he’s dead. I’m the reason they’re all dead.”

“Oh no, sweetie,” her mother said. She tilted Lily’s head back and wiped away her tears. “You had no control over what happened to Tristan or your father.” She tittered anxiously, and Lily saw the mad light of a million other universes burn in her eyes. “That’s scarier, which is why most people choose to feel guilty rather than helpless when someone they love dies. But the truth is you had no control.”

Samantha smiled at Lily like what she had just said made it all better—and Lily had stopped crying, but it wasn’t because she was comforted. Far from it, actually.

Samantha pulled away and turned to Rowan. “You should tell her all of it,” she said. “What happened when she was unconscious in your tent? Tell her.”

“Tell me what?” Lily asked. Samantha wandered away, humming a few notes to herself. Lily turned to Rowan. “Tell me what?” she demanded.

Rowan’s face was blank. “I don’t know,” he mumbled.

“She’s worse,” Juliet interjected. She was watching Samantha tackle the stairs with a worried frown. “The cameras, the police, the pressure to keep the story straight when she can’t even remember which world she’s in more often than not. It’s too much.”