“She is,” Rowan answered for her. Lily could tell his answering for her was a reflex. No one was allowed to speak directly to a witch unless she addressed them first, and now that Lily and Rowan were back in his world, some of his old habits with Lillian were seeping back into his behavior.
“Tell them about the babies being born strange,” said a high, piping voice from the shadows. A little boy, no older than five, stepped forward.
“Quiet, Pip.” Riley reached out and put his hand on the little boy’s head and then turned back to Rowan. “It’s not just the babies. A lot of women have fallen sick and the witches in the city say they can’t help them.”
“They’re lying to you,” Rowan snapped angrily. “There isn’t much a witch can’t cure. What are the symptoms and how did the sickness start?”
Riley and Pip shared a look, and then Riley finally decided to continue. “It started about two years back. A professor from Salem asked some of the tunnel women to smuggle metal containers filled with what looked like ordinary dust out of each of the cities. But when the women came back they had burns on their hands and faces, like sunburns only much worse. Then they started getting sick. A lot of them died, and those that didn’t had babies that—” Riley suddenly broke off and grimaced like his stomach was turning. “Every woman who helped in the smuggling in every city ended up sick, dead, or with a baby that just wasn’t right.”
“Where did the smugglers bring the dust?” Rowan asked.
“Outland.” Riley suddenly looked sheepishly at his feet to avoid Rowan’s eyes. “The Salem professor who organized the whole thing was an Outlander.”
A chill rattled down Lily’s spine. “Did you get a name?”
Riley nodded. “She was important, so I remembered her name. Professor Chenoa. And there were two others. They weren’t real professors, but they were still awfully smart. Hawk and Kiwi? No, that’s not right, but it’s close.”
“Let me see the sick,” Lily ordered hollowly. “And I want to see the babies.”
Lily glanced at Rowan as she followed Riley down a dark passageway that led away from the main group of tunnel people.
Lily. You know Chenoa, don’t you?
I know of her. She and the other two—Hakan and Keme—were the scientists that Lillian wanted. They were the scientists we fought Lillian to protect, Rowan.
Lily saw Rowan’s brow furrow in thought. He didn’t ask any more questions, not even to find out how Lily knew that. Before she could formulate a question for Rowan that didn’t implicate her, the group arrived at a satellite camp for the sick.
“Holy shit,” Tristan cursed under his breath.
Rowan staggered forward, wading out into the huddled groups of skeletal woman and twisted, deformed children. Even though he was wearing a glamour, they could tell from his skin tone and from the beaded leather work of his pack that he was an Outlander. They scowled at him as he passed, their hatred palpable. Right or wrong, they apparently blamed him and all Outlanders for what Chenoa had done to them.
“No,” Rowan said in disbelief, ignoring their glares. “This isn’t natural.”
Lily came forward and focused on one of the women. She was balding and had ulcerous sores around her mouth—like the people in the cinder world. Lily crouched down and looked the woman in the eye. She could see the chromosomal damage in the woman’s cells. The woman’s liver, kidneys, and immune system were all shutting down, unable to repair themselves.
“Why don’t you take a step back, Rowan,” Tristan said. As Rowan moved away, Tristan crouched next to Lily and introduced himself to the woman kindly. Tristan remembered her humanity, even if Lily was too stunned to be polite.
It’s her DNA. I can’t find any cells in her that have undamaged genetic material, Lily. Can you?
No, Tristan. She’s past saving.
What did this?
Lily heard Breakfast and then Una in her head.
Their cells can’t repair themselves. It’s horrible.
What is this? Can you see the air around them? It’s filled with little specks of almost nothing that are whizzing around like crazy.