Firewalker (26 page)

“Everyone take a side and start digging,” Rowan said excitedly.

They worked feverishly and had the frozen sod up in half an hour. A large metal plate, flaky with rust, was embedded in the ground.

“Light a fire,” Rowan ordered. “Lily? We'll need your strength to lift this,” he said. She nodded quickly, giving her assent.

They got a fire going and Lily fed her mechanics enough energy to pull the huge metal plate up from its bed. Beneath the plate was an iron grate that was welded over the top of a duct. Rowan bent back some of the bars of the grate, leaving enough space for them to climb through. He put his head down the hole, his willstone brightly shining with magelight.

“There's no ladder,” he said, frowning. He brushed some dirt from his hands. “This duct has been out of use for a while. It may not even meet up with the main line.”

“I don't think we have much of a choice but to follow it,” Tristan said. He stuck his head down next to Rowan's and let his magelight add more brightness. “At least there are plenty of handholds,” he said.

Rowan nodded in agreement. “Una, you go first, then Breakfast, me and Lily, then Tristan. Tristan, close up the hole behind us, and I'll carry Lily,” he said. “Everyone take as much energy as you can from Lily now.”

Lily stood close to the fire and rose up into the air on her witch wind. She fed their willstones until Rowan told her the fire was nearly out. She let go of the power loop, dropping out of the air and into his outstretched arms. He gathered her close, stamped out the last of the embers, and swung down the hole after Breakfast.

Rowan. I hate being underground. It's like being back in the oubliette.

No it isn't, because I'm here. You're safe, Lily. No one's going to hurt you while I'm around.

Rowan held her shaking body tightly to his as Tristan heaved the large metal plate back over the hole, blotting out the moon and the stars.

 

CHAPTER

10

Lily turned her face into Rowan's chest and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. The smell of earth and rust wrapped around her and sank so deeply into her skin she could taste it on the back of her tongue.

She tried to focus on the sway of Rowan's body as he climbed down. She listened to the beat of his heart. Steady and strong. The enchanting hue of his magelight lit the other side of her eyelids reassuringly. She tried to imagine his magelight as a candle burning in front of her, although she could feel no heat and could gather no power from it. Magelight could not fuel her. Lily touched her willstones with the tips of her fingers, feeling their soft, solid shapes. She told herself that no one was going to take them away from her this time, or ever again.

“What's wrong with Lily?” Tristan asked anxiously. He could feel her fear. They all could.

“Witches don't like to be underground,” Rowan answered. “They're cut off from the light of the sun and moon. It drains them.”

“Witches can get energy from the moon?” Breakfast asked, surprised.

“Of course,” Rowan replied. Lily could hear the smile in his voice. “Didn't you ever hear of witches dancing naked in the light of the full moon? Why else do you think they'd do that?”

“'Cause it's wicked fun?” Una offered.

“Well, okay. So there are two reasons,” Rowan admitted.

“Hey, Lily. Just imagine you're buck naked and shakin' it on a cloudy night,” Breakfast said cheerfully.

“I'll try, Breakfast,” Lily said, her voice only wavering a little. “Are we there yet?”

“Almost,” Una answered. “I can see the bottom.”

“What's down there?” Tristan asked.

“A concrete thingamajig,” Una said uncertainly. “It could be a platform.”

Lily could feel it getting warmer as they descended. The smell of earth was replaced by the smell of steam and grease, peppered with bursts of ozone and recycled air. Not too far off, Lily could hear the unmistakable double-tap thud of a train moving down the tracks and the muffled squeal of metal on metal. She felt Rowan finally let go of some of the tension he'd been carrying for days. He was still on guard, but no longer on edge like a hunted animal. As Rowan relaxed, so did Lily.

“Una and Breakfast—go down and scout around. Don't go far, though,” Rowan warned. “And try to avoid being seen. Your clothes are mostly cotton, which is a very expensive material here.”

“No way,” Una said disbelievingly.

“Cotton needs a lot of land to grow. And with the Woven, land is a precious thing. So keep your heads down, okay? There are some desperate people down in the train tunnels, and I don't want you to get robbed.”

Lily calmed herself enough to peel her face away from Rowan's chest and watched as Una and Breakfast reached the bottom and went off in separate directions. It was only a few minutes before she heard Una's voice in her head, although barely. The concrete walls of the subway didn't block her connection to her claimed as profoundly as granite did, but the soil here contained enough quartz to interfere.

It looks like a deserted platform. It's safe to come down.

“Una says it's safe,” Lily repeated.

Rowan, Lily, and Tristan descended the rest of the way and came to what appeared to be a service tunnel. They climbed through a knocked-out hole in the wall and found themselves next to Breakfast and Una on what looked like a deserted subway stop. The walls were tiled with an intricate pattern in a style akin to art deco. The name of the stop, rendered in black-and-white inlay, was
RANCH FOUR
.

“I saw something like this once,” Una said. “There was a show about the New York City subway system, and they had pictures of stops on the line that never opened or that had closed years ago. It was so cool. It was like looking back in time.”

“Ranch Four?” Tristan said. “What's that?”

“They have animal ranches outside the cities in this world. They raise luxury meats for rich people on them,” Lily said distastefully.

“Before this ranch was even built it was overrun by Woven. That was decades ago, though,” Rowan said in a faraway voice. He looked at Lily, his brow furrowed. “How did you know about the ranches?”

Lily thought fast. “Tristan told me about them. The other Tristan,” she answered, looking away. It wasn't totally a lie, either. “He said the ranches were work camps for criminals and poor people.”

“The Covens round up homeless citizens a few times a year to give them jobs,” he said, adding heavy sarcasm to the second half of his sentence. “The ranches are one of the places they send them.”

“Sounds like slave labor,” Breakfast said.

“The Covens can't take away a person's citizenship and banish them to the Outlands unless they've committed a serious crime, and the cities are only so big. Housing is expensive in walled cities that only have so much space. The poor have nowhere to go. A lot of them come to the underground train tunnels to hide from the guards.” Rowan ran his hand across a bit of graffiti that had been painted near the hole they'd climbed through to get from the service tunnel into the station. “This station belongs to a gang.”

“Where are they?” Tristan said. He looked around. There were no sleeping bags or piles of personal items—no sign that anyone lived down here. Tristan's face suddenly froze. “Woven?” he whispered.

Rowan shook his head, perplexed and looking around like Tristan. “No. Woven don't come into the train tunnels.”

“Why?” Lily blurted out.

“I don't know, Lily. They just don't.”

“Okay, that's ridiculous,” she said, exasperated. “Hasn't anyone in this world thought that maybe it was a tad
weird
that Woven don't go down in the tunnels? What? Are they superstitious or something?”

Rowan shrugged. “The Woven do what they do, and I don't know anyone who's ever stopped to ask them why they do it. We're usually too busy trying to kill them.”

Lily leaned back, struck by a thought. “That's the problem,” she said musingly. She waved a hand in the air dismissively. “Forget it,” she said, and changed the subject before Rowan could pick up on what she was thinking and get agitated. “So where'd the gang go?”

“Well, it looks like they move through here a lot,” Breakfast said, looking down. “Look—there's no dust on the ground, but there is on that bench over there.”

“You're right, Breakfast. Good eye,” Rowan said. “The trail leads down the tracks.”

“Do we stay or try to find them?” Una asked. “I could really use some food.”

Rowan bit his lower lip and frowned in thought, looking at Tristan. “What do you say?”

Tristan glanced at Lily, worried. His eyes darted down to the three willstones that hung around her neck. “If they see her, will they know who she is?”

“I can hide two of my stones and use a glamour,” Lily said, already removing her largest and smallest willstones and tucking them into her bra.

“Something less pretty than your normal face,” Rowan suggested. “You want to blend in.”

“Got it.” Lily altered her face until it bordered on plain. “You should change your face, too,” she told Rowan.

“Why?” Una asked. “Would he be recognized, too?”

Lily grinned. “Rowan is known as Lord Fall here,” she said. “He's totally famous.”

“Really?” Una quipped impishly, looking Rowan over.

“I
was
Lord Fall, now I'm just an Outlander. But I should still use a glamour,” Rowan said, changing the way the dim light hit his face until Lily barely recognized him. “Our clothes are still a problem, though.”

“We stole them, and we're looking to trade with them. You said they were valuable,” Breakfast said, brewing up a plan. “Come on, guys. We're badass thieves, on the run from the city guard. Act the part.”

“I don't know,” Rowan said, looking Lily over. She snatched a thought from the front of his mind. Nothing in the world could make someone as refined and fragile looking as Lily appear like a badass. Even with her glamour-altered face, there was still something inherently graceful about the way she moved that she could never wholly hide.

Lily could feel her mechanics' empty bellies rumbling, and their hunger upset her in a way her own hunger wouldn't. Her coven was her responsibility and she felt an inexplicable need to provide for them. “If we want to catch a train south, we're going to have to go to a station that's still in use,” she said, trying to win Rowan over with sugar rather than spice. “We're bound to run into other people when we do that anyway.”

I'll be fine, Rowan
, she added reassuringly in mindspeak.

He finally relented, and they set off down the tracks. They still had some of Lily's strength in them, and Rowan wanted to encounter whatever awaited them before it completely wore off.

They followed the tracks until they could see more signs of habitation and came to an abrupt halt when they spotted the first tunnel denizen, standing next to a barrel fire. The scruffy kid, who was twelve or thirteen tops, saw them and froze like a deer in headlights. Before anyone in Lily's group could call out to him, the kid took off down the tracks.

“A lookout,” Rowan said, dismayed.

“Don't worry, Ro. We're just here to trade,” Breakfast reminded him calmly. He rubbed his hands together in delighted anticipation as they followed the lookout at a cautious pace. He was enjoying this.

They went around a bend in the track and saw the lookout talking to a tight huddle of grubby-looking preteens. Breakfast took the lead.

“Okay, you three just hang back, stick close to Lily, and look scary.” Breakfast glanced back at Rowan, Tristan, and Una. “Like you normally do. Let me handle this.”

“Maybe I should be the one—” Rowan began.

“No, let Breakfast go talk to them,” Una interrupted, her eyes narrowed into a slyer-than-usual position.

Rowan looked to Tristan. “He's got this,” Tristan said confidently. “There's a reason we always send Breakfast to buy the weed before a party.” Rowan looked confused and Tristan smiled reassuringly. “Breakfast is clutch at dealing with people like this. He hardly ever gets his ass kicked.”

The “hardly ever” part of Tristan's sentence made Rowan even more nervous than before, but it was too late. Breakfast was already talking with the cluster of tunnel teens. They saw him gesture casually back to the group, and Lily took note of how the tunnel kids zeroed in on her and Rowan. Their posture stiffened as they regarded Rowan's gigantic willstone, which was still roiling with Lily's energy.

Breakfast worked on them with his innocuous goofiness and mildly irritating charm, and persuaded the kids to bring Lily's group to trade with the elders. They got plenty of stares as they made their way through the tent city that had sprung up in the abandoned branches of the subway tunnels.

The people down here weren't Outlanders—they were more European looking. Lily had been expecting a blend of races, but as she considered it, it made sense. These were the castoffs of the cities who didn't have the skills to survive outside the walls. They wouldn't be accepted into an Outlander tribe, and without a tribe, a person outside the walls was as good as dead. That's why they hid in the tunnels. They had no other place to go, except into indentured servitude at one of the ranches. Most of the faces that looked fearfully at Rowan's giant smoke stone were young kids—dirty, pale little things who looked desperately malnourished.

So many women and children, Rowan. There are no grown men here.

The men usually have to turn themselves in. They go to work on the ranches, and the city guard turns a blind eye to the fact that their families are hiding down here. The ranches get the strongest and cheapest labor, and the cities only have to deal with the nonviolent women and children.