y to make. What kind of a world was this? The hybrid monsters tied at the base of the greenhouse flashed across her mind’s eye, and Lily wondered if they’d been grown rather than born. Rowan’s urgent tone interrupted her frightening thoughts.
“How, Caleb? They’re the same age. I can read it in her body. Someone would have had to copy Lillian on the day of her conception. I knew Samantha well, and she would have rather died than let anyone copy her daughter. That’s Lillian. It has to be.” Rowan’s shadow paced restlessly.
“We’re not arguing with you,” Caleb said, trying to placate him. “There have been rumors that the Witch is ill. Maybe that’s why her body felt ‘clogged’ or whatever it is you mechanics call it when a crucible gets sick.”
“It’s not just her body,” Rowan continued.
“What, then?” Caleb said patiently. Rowan exhaled a shaky breath and paused.
Lily’s throat clenched. She stopped breathing in order to suppress a coughing fit. She needed to hear the rest of what Rowan would say. She needed to find out how he knew that she was different. It might give her some clue as to how to get out of here.
“I know this sounds like such a little thing, but … she said please.” There was another long pause. Lily’s eyes streamed irritated tears. She wished Rowan would hurry up and get to the point. “Until last year, I’d spent nearly every day with Lillian since she was six and I was seven. Not once in that entire time had she ever said please for anything.”
“She’s the Witch,” said a third and intimately familiar voice. “She wasn’t supposed to be polite to us, Ro.”
It was Tristan. He sounded exactly the same. Any thought of being angry with him fell away. Just knowing he—or some version of him—was there made Lily feel safer. It didn’t matter what universe this was, or what had happened between them, Tristan would never let anyone hurt her.
“Tristan, help!” Lily yelled. “There’s mold everywhere!”
Coughs racked her body. She scrambled up onto her knees and leaned against the latticed wood and leather cage as the three men rushed to her. Lily coughed so hard she gagged.
Rowan knelt down, slinging a pack off his back as he did so, and pulled out a few leaves. While Lily continued to cough, she heard Rowan light a match. “Mold hasn’t bothered her since she was eight,” he growled.
“Well, obviously it’s bothering her now,” Tristan growled back. “She’s really weak, Ro. You laid hands on her. You should have known that.”
“She’s not weak,” Rowan began to argue back.
“Enough bickering you two,” Caleb said impatiently, and Tristan and Rowan fell silent.
Lily smelled fire, burning, and then smoke. She scrambled away from the fragrant smoke, hacking and gasping, convinced that Rowan was trying to kill her.
“Tristan,” she gasped. “Please. Don’t let him.”
“Breathe in the smoke, Lillian,” Tristan said, cutting off her plea.
“Are you crazy?” she managed to reply through her rib-rattling coughs.
Rowan’s dark eyes narrowed. Just as she sucked in a pained breath, he waved the smoke in her direction, making sure there was no way she could avoid it. Lily prepared herself for a terrible fit, but instead she felt the burning in her throat ease and the itching in her lungs begin to subside. She breathed again, and the urge to cough went away. After a few moments, she felt her chest open up completely as she inhaled the tangy, scented air.
“How did you do that?” Lily asked.
“Sage,” Rowan replied, holding up the smoking bundle. “It purifies the air. You know that.”
“Lillian knows it.” Lily slid off her knees and sat cross-legged in the dirt while the three men exchanged baffled looks. She felt better, but she was still so spent that she could barely hold herself up. She slouched over her lap tiredly. “May I have some water?”
“Water!” Caleb called over his shoulder. A canteen was brought immediately, and Tristan passed it to Lily through a little slot at the bottom of the cage. “Start explaining, Lillian. And don’t get any funny ideas. You don’t have your willstone. Try to cast one spell against me or my men and women, and I’ll let Rowan kill you.”
Lily swallowed and regarded Caleb’s earnest face. He was older—maybe in his mid-twenties—and dark-skinned. His face was painted with streaks of red and white. Lily couldn’t put a finger on his heritage, but he was definitely a mix of several races. He was also enormous, and Lily could tell from the level way he looked at her that he didn’t make idle threats.
She didn’t have many options. She could pretend to be Lillian and try to escape later, or tell the truth and hope they would let her go. If they knew she wasn’t the girl they all seemed to hate, then maybe they would realize that they had no reason to keep her locked up in the first place.
“I’m not Lillian. Please, you have to believe me,” Lily begged. She heard Rowan make a scoffing noise and desperately raised her voice to be heard over him. “I’m a version of Lillian.”
They all stared at her blankly.
“Lily. That’s what I like to be called,” she continued, trying to sound as calm and as rational as she could even though she still couldn’t believe what she was saying. “I know this sounds crazy, but I’m from another world—another Salem, Massachusetts.”
“Another world? Really?” Rowan said mockingly. “And how did you get here?”