“Let’s just leave the car here,” Una said. She looked back up the street. “Wait a sec.”
They all turned to see car lights coming up the street behind them. Tristan killed his engine. The car behind them seemed to slow down and stop. After a few moments the driver backed up and turned down a street to the right, the headlights finally disappearing.
They got out of the car, shouldered their gear, and sank silently into the woods. Rowan closed his eyes. “Follow me,” he said, feeling his way toward Carrick.
They found something like a path, and crunched through the super-chilled snow for almost an hour. The brush was thick underfoot in places, and it gripped at them, dragging them back with spindly fingers.
“Stop,” Rowan whispered. He pointed in front of them. In the moonlight, Lily could barely make out a rocky cliff through the trees. Close to the top, but still inside the cliff face, came the faint orange glow of a campfire.
“That’s it,” Tristan whispered. “I saw some pictures online. The Witch Caves are in the cliffs.”
“Damn it,” Rowan said under his breath. “He has the high ground.” The fire suddenly went out. “And he knows we’re here.”
“How—” Tristan began.
“Because he’s been waiting for us.” Rowan shook his head impatiently. “Let’s get a fire going.”
“You’re not going up there, are you? How can you defend yourselves from him if you’re busy climbing?” Breakfast asked, whispering frantically. He looked at Una pleadingly. “Don’t.”
“Stuart,” she said, smiling softly, “we either do this now, or we live in fear forever. I won’t live in fear again. You know that.”
Breakfast stared at Una, probably sharing a private exchange in mindspeak, before finally nodding.
“We have to hurry,” Rowan said.
They gathered as much wood as they could and piled it in front of Lily. All the wood was wet, and it smoked ferociously when Rowan finally got it lit. “It could go out at any time,” he warned Breakfast. “Watch it carefully.”
Lily’s mechanics stood around her, packs resting on the ground, knives sheathed at their belts, all of them anxiously awaiting her strength. She drew the heat of the fire into her willstones and a witch wind howled down the cliffs and through the trees. Power surged through Lily, lifting her feet off the ground as a shrieking column of witch wind formed around her. She rose up in the air, suspended as if she were floating in water. As she filled her mechanics’ stones with pure force, one cold-blooded thought echoed through her mind.
Kill him.
Her three warriors went streaking to the cliffs like black lightning. Lily stayed connected with Rowan, Tristan, and Una as they climbed but she lost them one by one as each ducked into a different cave to seek out Carrick. They would have to check every crevice. It was Carrick’s goal to pick them off one at a time, and it occurred to Lily that he probably didn’t want to meet Rowan first. Carrick had far less experience as a mechanic and simply wasn’t ready to face his half brother. Carrick would go for the weakest, but how would he know who was the weakest when he didn’t know any of their potential abilities?
He wouldn’t, she realized.
He’d let Rowan decide who was the least capable fighter—by waiting to see which one he left behind.
In a panic, Lily’s eyes snapped open and she saw a hunched, crow-like shape appear between the slim trunks of a birch tree stand.
“Breakfast!” she shouted, but not in time. Carrick’s willstone flared with Lillian’s power, and in an instant he was on top of him. Carrick took Breakfast by the throat so that he couldn’t even scream.
“Someone help!” Lily wailed. She saw a flicker of silver in one of Carrick’s hands. She filled Breakfast’s willstone with power and he wrenched an arm free, stopping the descending blade just inches from his eye.