Authors: Josephine Angelini
Rowan (20 page)
“What do we do?” she asked, her breath fluttering in her chest.
“We climb.” Rowan took her hand and led her to the trunk of a large conifer. “And hope they don’t have simians with them.”
Rowan gave her a boost up to the lowest branch, and then had to shove her hard so she could haul herself up on top of it. She peered over the side of the thick branch, wondering how Rowan was going to get himself up, and saw his willstone throb with that strange, oily light that seemed to call to her. He jumped easily up beside her on the branch, landing in a crouch on the balls of his feet with his fingers resting lightly in front of him.
“Climb quickly,” he urged, steadying Lily with his hands. “They’re drawn to magelight like moths.”
The gray-colored bark was rough but powdery under Lily’s tender palms. Her boots scraped it and sent clouds of lichen-laden dust showering down on Rowan. He took no notice and, despite the debris, didn’t let even a few inches of distance grow between them. More than once his quick hands shot out to help balance her as they rose over a hundred feet into the rapidly darkening sky.
“Keep close to the trunk!” he admonished when a branch bent dangerously underneath her.
“I’m trying,” Lily hissed back. “My arms are tired.”
“Then stop.” Rowan hauled himself up onto the branch just below hers. “We’ve gone as far as we should go anyway.”
Lily sat back against the trunk of the tree and rubbed the blackened tree sap off her scratched hands. Rowan’s shoulders suddenly tensed, and his volume dropped to nearly nothing.
“Hold still.”
Lily froze immediately. The thin sweat that had coated her as she climbed shrank back into her skin. Rowan tilted his head ever so slowly to peer around the branch under him. Lily copied his careful movements, barely moving, and looked down.
A man ran, staggering into view from the underbrush. He was reaching desperately for the tree. He didn’t make it.
From above, the thing that attacked the man looked like a giant bug. In the bright moonlight Lily could see a sectioned carapace that was covered in spikes and hair growing in between the large armor-like plates. The creature had to be at least nine feet tall and twice as long, and it picked its way at lightning speed toward the man on four spindly legs that ended in pointy barbs.
The man turned, saw the Woven moving in on him, and screamed. Rowan stood up on his branch without a sound. He unsheathed his knife and made a move to climb down. The front section of the creature was drawn up and hunched over like a praying mantis, but when its two front limbs shot out impossibly far to grab the hysterical man, it did so with human hands.
The man howled in pain as the Woven curled over him, its mouth pincers clacking together. Lily felt Rowan grip her forearm tightly as he melted back into the trunk of the tree. She looked down at him, her breath whistling in and out of her with panic.
“Shhh,” Rowan whispered almost silently. “It’s too late to help. Calm down, Lily.”
She swallowed and forced herself to slow her breathing. Squeezing her lips shut and pressing herself against the tree, Lily narrowed her world down to one thing—the sound of the Woven as it tore into the man again and again. She saw parts of the man flying up and falling back down to the forest floor, an arm, a leg, even his insides. Lily put a hand over her mouth.
The Woven ate the man down to nothing. Every bit of skin, muscle, bone, and all of the entrails were consumed. Nothing was left of the man except scraps of clothes. The Woven sifted carefully over every last bit of the killing ground and then moved on.
It was a long time before Lily found her voice.
“Are they all like that?” she whispered.
“No. There are many different breeds, each with many variations.” Rowan’s voice drifted up to Lily from the branch below hers. “The Woven come in all shapes and sizes.”
“Are they all dangerous?”
“To humans. They are territorial, but they tend to leave other animals alone unless they’re hunting them.”
Lily looked up at the stars. This sky here held the same exact constellations, but they seemed closer, brighter, and more varied in color and tone than anything she was used to.
“Let me wrap this around you.” Rowan reached up and looped a rope around her legs a few times, tying her to the branch so she didn’t slip off in the middle of the night. “Try to rest,” Rowan said when he’d finished, his voice edged with concern.
She gripped the rope tightly even though she knew there was no way she would nod off that night.
“Lily?” he called up to her. She could hear him repositioning himself on the branch beneath her, trying to get a glimpse of her face.
“Go to sleep, Rowan. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re in shock. I can feel—” He broke off suddenly, and made an impatient sound. “Good night.”
Josephine Angelini
is the internationally bestselling author of
Trial by Fire
and the Starcrossed series. She is a graduate of New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts in theater, with a focus on the classics. Originally from Massachusetts, Josie now lives in Los Angeles with her screenwriter husband, her daughter, Pia Marie, and three shelter cats. You can sign up for email updates
here
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Contents
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
ROWAN.
Copyright © 2015 by Josephine Angelini. All rights reserved. For information, address Feiwel and Friends, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
Cover design by Rich Deas
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e-ISBN 9781250082329
First Edition: 2015