Witch's Pyre (Worldwalker #3)(70)

Toshi straightened with a jolt. “Stop talking.”

He stood up, threw some money on the table, and took her by the arm. She was so shocked that she didn’t even protest while he led her out of the restaurant.

He didn’t say a word as he pulled her onto a trolley, and when she tried to take her arm out of his grasp, he squeezed tighter. She grew still.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked under her breath. “To Grace?”

Workers began to gather on the railing of the trolley. They rubbed their tubular mouthparts with their forearms, tasting Mala’s fear and deliberating the threat level.

Toshi put his arm around her and nuzzled past her veil until his lips touched her neck. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered.

She smiled and relaxed. “It took you long enough,” she said, and wound her arms over his shoulders.

“Listen very carefully. You’re being watched. Every move you make, maybe every word you say—I can’t be sure.”

Mala’s chiming laughter matched the merry jingling of her veil. “Grace doesn’t have spies in the city. Believe me, I would know who—”

“Not who,” Toshi said, giving her a little shake to quiet her.

He pulled back with the lazy look of a lover and turned one of her medallions over in his long fingers. Subtly, slowly, he gestured to the Workers that were disbanding now that Mala’s fear had dissipated.

It took a moment to sink in, but as Toshi watched, Mala’s face transformed from disbelief, to fearful calculation, to outrage. Her breath quickened and her eyes darted around as she scrolled through a lifetime of private moments that were now violated, until finally, resentment smoldered inside her.

Toshi pulled her close and let his lips dip close to her ear, covering their conversation with her veil.

“We need allies,” he whispered. “People who aren’t afraid to fight.”

“I’ll take you to them.”

Lily put her feet down and tested her legs. When they didn’t show any sign of buckling, she stood and took a few steps. By the time she made it to the hope chest at the end of Lillian’s bed she needed to rest, and sat down heavily.

“If Rowan catches you out of bed, he’s going to freak out,” Juliet said.

Lily panted and concentrated on making the room stop spinning. “I don’t care what Rowan does,” she said petulantly. Juliet gave her a doubtful look. “Just don’t, okay?” Lily continued, “I’m not being stubborn. I have to get better fast because I have to get us to Lillian.”

“It’s not like she’s going to make it to Bower City anytime soon,” Una said over the top of the book she was reading. “What’s the rush?”

Lily didn’t have the energy to explain it to them, so she replayed a memory of what Lillian had shared with her just a few moments ago . . .

. . . My drake lets out a trumpeting bellow. I bank and return the way we came. I’m soaring high above the fourth battalion along the outer rim of the advancing line of my army. I have to keep shifting which battalion is on the outside to spread the risk among them equally, lest I sow dissent.

The Woven devoured fifty men last night alone. They’re attacking us on every front. It’s more than just coincidence. Grace Bendingtree is sending them against us, trying to pick off as many as she can. And it’s working. At this rate, my army will be dead before we get there . . .

“That’s why I’m rushing,” Lily said.

Juliet nodded and stood up. She came over to Lily and helped haul her to her feet. “Let’s get you closer to this food,” she said, steering Lily toward the tea table. “There’s a disgustingly salty vegetable broth that I’m sure you’ll love.”

Lily made it to a chair and flopped into it. She tore at a heel of bread and dipped the crust in her broth to soften it. “Where’s Breakfast?” she asked.

“He’s out running an errand,” Una answered. “He said he’d be back in a few hours—which should be right around now.”

“A few hours? What’s he doing?” Lily asked. Una shrugged but didn’t offer any more information. Lily turned to Juliet. “Where are Tristan and Mom?”

“Tristan went to check on his apartment, and Mom is going through boxes of her stuff. Or the other . . . her’s stuff,” Juliet answered, stumbling over the tricky grammar. “I’ve been told there are several rooms that belonged to the other me just a few doors down, but I don’t actually know this place like Mom does.”

“Or like Rowan does,” Una added, watching Lily.

Lily’s chewing slowed and she forced down the now-heavy mouthful. “It was hard to see him like that this morning,” she admitted. “He was never that comfortable in my bedroom.” She picked at the spongy center of her bread, pinching some off and rolling it into a dough marble between her fingers. “He’s going to see her again soon,” she said after a long pause.

“Don’t start thinking crazy thoughts,” Una warned.

“But they have history,” Lily said.

“Yeah—the bad kind. She killed his father, remember?”

Lily smiled weakly and dropped her head. “Our history isn’t so great, either.” Gavin appeared in the doorway, wringing his hands. “What is it, Gavin?” Lily asked, brushing the crumbs from her fingers and sitting up straight.