“We’ll wait here for Tristan and Breakfast to catch up while you and I heal Lily,” he explained while he opened his pack and began taking out his cauldron and herbs.
Lily sank gratefully to her knees. Her shoulder was still throbbing. “I’m going to try to find Caleb and your Tristan,” Lily told him.
Rowan nodded while he worked, his nimble hands laying out the tools he would need. His lips softened in a small smile. He loved being a mechanic. Lily had to force herself to concentrate; she could have stared at him the rest of the day.
She reached out and felt for the particular energies that were Caleb and Tristan. She could feel their relief and their happiness at hearing from her. “They’re close,” Lily said. “Can you reach them, Rowan?”
His eyes stared at nothing for a moment. “Not yet.”
Lily sent Caleb and Tristan an image of exactly where they were. We’re outside of Baltimore, she told them.
We’re only a few miles away from you. We’ll be there soon.
Lily relayed their message to Rowan, and he smiled with her before becoming serious again. Rowan set the cauldron onto the fire and turned to Una.
“I’m going to teach you how to heal a dislocated joint,” he told her, and the lesson began.
The ritual was over quickly, and it was a bit different from when Rowan and Tristan had healed Lily’s broken ankle all those months ago. The mineral-and-herb brew that bubbled in the cauldron was similar, but this time Rowan had Una use the power in her own willstone to direct the heat of the brew into Lily’s shoulder instead of having Lily do it as he had with her ankle.
Una willed the heat to form microscopic fingers of energy, which utilized the elements in the brew to rebuild the damage in Lily’s shoulder. Not even witches could create something out of nothing, and having the iron, calcium, and collagen in the brew was essential to create new cells and heal an injury. Energy alone wouldn’t do it.
Una understood the principles easily enough, but she had some trouble following through. Her true skill was fighting, not healing, but she managed to pull it off. As they worked, Lily noticed that Rowan’s smoke stone took on a slightly reddish hue while Una’s nearly black stone could not. Rowan’s stone was more flexible than Una’s. Lily made a mental note to mark which of her mechanics’ stones could change color to fit the different tasks of magic. This was supposed to have been a lesson for Una, but Lily found that she was still learning as well.
“Good job, Una,” Rowan said as they packed up their silver knives and their hunks of ore. “You’ll—”
Rowan suddenly broke off and stood, his eyes flying to the trees and he unsheathed his long knife.
Lily. Give us strength.
The Woven were on Una and Rowan before Lily could even draw the heat of the fire into her body. Coyote-like shapes burst out of the underbrush and launched themselves at Lily’s mechanics. They had impossibly long tails, and when Rowan grabbed one of the Woven by the throat, the snarling creature used that tail like a whip, lashing its tail overhead, and whipping Rowan across the shoulder and back. His wearhyde jacket was slashed open, and blood slicked down his back.
Lily’s witch wind turned the breeze into a moaning storm. She was tossed six feet into the air and immediately sent power exploding into Una’s and Rowan’s willstones. But she didn’t stay airborne long.
Lily felt a distinct presence react to her display of magic. It was not unlike the fear and awe that she could sense when she heard people scream the word “witch,” and then she felt a tearing pain in her left forearm as she was pulled to the ground. A huge white coyote Woven, the largest in the group, pinned her to the forest floor and loomed over her.