Witch's Pyre

by Josephine Angelini

  Toshi crossed the last few steps into the dining room and joined the dinner party. Lily put out a hand and stopped her coven from following so they could calm down and regroup.

  “This place just got a whole lot more interesting,” Tristan said. “I wonder how long Grace has been in power.”

  “Long enough for all of us to be scared of her,” Juliet said. “Power does funny things to a person’s head and the longer you have it, the more twisted you get. What I want to know is what she wants from Lily.”

  Lily felt a protective surge of emotion from her sister and smiled at her, but Juliet was too worried to be mollified. A fretful frown stamped a crease between her big brown eyes and it would not go away.

  It’s okay, Juliet. I’m not afraid of Grace.

  You should be, Juliet replied in mindspeak. She sighed and rolled her eyes. But I know you won’t be. So I’ll just have to be afraid for you.

  On that note they entered the dining room to find a small group of people waiting for Lily’s coven to join them.

  “Lily,” Grace said, her ageless face spreading into a wide smile. “Come and meet the minister of trade. I’ve just been telling him how you’ve been to the docks already.”

  Waiters circled with brightly colored drinks in strangely shaped glasses. Appetizers whisked by. Grace introduced Lily to several people with the title minister or chief or head in rapid succession. They all studied her like the newest wondrous beast in a menagerie. They gawked at her enormous willstone and tiptoed around the sticky subject of her claimed without ever really confronting the subject head on, or completely letting it drop, either. The women were less tactful about Lily’s coven than the men. They made not-so-veiled comments about how many strapping young mechanics Lily had acquired.

  “But you can’t tell me that witches back east don’t tend to lean toward claiming attractive mechanics for themselves when they can,” said the minister of architecture. “Look at this little coven, for example.”

  “I’m not for Lily. I like men,” Caleb replied bluntly.

  “And I’m with her,” Breakfast added, pointing at Una. “The scary one.”

  Lily nodded. “It’s true. She is scary.”

  “You’re a little too wholesome for me,” Breakfast said to Lily. “No offense.”

  “None taken.”

  “And you’re a little too female for me,” Caleb said, grinning.

  “It’s a fact. I am female,” Lily said with an apologetic shrug. She turned to the minister. “So, no. Witches don’t pick hot mechanics to surround themselves with potential partners. We pick them based on trust.” Her eyes found Rowan, who was speaking to someone on the other side of the room. “Or lack of it.”

  The prurient curiosity didn’t end after they’d been seated. Then, it was Mala’s turn to try to make them all feel uncomfortable.

  “So, Una,” said Mala, already two drinks in, “what’s it like being a female mechanic?”

  “It works just fine for me,” Una replied.

  “But didn’t you ever want to be a witch so you could have a herd of adoring men to call your own, like Lily?” Mala persisted.

  “No,” Una replied. “Tell me, do witches here firewalk?”

  “There’s no reason for witches to do that in Bower City,” Grace interjected sternly. “Firewalking is for battle.”

  “Well, I’ve heard Lily shrieking on the pyre,” Una said, pinning Mala with a look. “And I’ll take being in the battle over being on the pyre any day of the week. Herd or no herd.”

  Get me out of here, Lily said in mindspeak to Juliet.

  Stay calm, she replied, resettling her napkin in her lap primly. They’re just testing you to see if you fly off the handle again.

  Lily could sense Rowan brushing up against her mind, asking for entry. In a moment of weakness she almost let him, but thought better of it at the last moment. She didn’t want his support. When the food arrived, she felt Toshi nudge her elbow with his. When she looked over at him, he gave her an encouraging smile.

  “I’m sure Lily didn’t claim her mechanics for ego-serving reasons,” Grace said, taking Lily’s side. “In the east, a witch needs mechanics or she’s not safe. But claiming is unnecessary here. The Hive protects all citizens equally.” Grace put down her chopsticks. “So, Lily, have you made up your mind yet?”

  “My mind?” Lily asked.

  “As to whether or not you’d like to stay in Bower City.”

  “Actually, I haven’t,” Lily replied honestly. She looked down the table at her coven. “We haven’t,” she amended.

  “That’s a shame. This city has a lot to offer someone with your skill. More than you had back east, although I’m sure you were very important,” Grace said.

  “Not exactly,” Lily said, frowning.

  “Oh?” Grace said. She cocked her head to the side.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Lily Proctor.” Grace leaned back, thumbing through her memory. “There was a John Proctor of the Salem Bay Colony in Massachusetts. He was the first mechanic and his wife, Elizabeth, was the first firewalker. Their descendants have been the on-again, off-again Salem Witches ever since. Aren’t you from Salem?”

  Lily saw the conversation narrow, leaving her on a tightrope. “There are a lot of people with the last name Proctor.”

  Grace’s smile was detached from her eyes. Thoughts moved behind them like pieces on a chessboard. Silence rolled up the long table and landed in a taut bundle in front of Lily.

  “No, there aren’t,” Grace said in a soft voice. “You are Lillian Proctor of Salem. You are the Salem Witch, and Rowan Fall is your head mechanic.”

  Lily felt Rowan shoving urgently at her mind. She ignored him. She could handle this on her own.

  “I never said my full name was Lillian,” Lily said, keeping her voice as soft and assured as Grace’s. “If the Hive won’t allow anyone to go east, how could you possibly know that?”

  Grace didn’t answer. “The thing I want to know, and that Toshi couldn’t seem to find out for me, is why? Why did you leave Salem?”

  Lily decided that if Grace didn’t feel the need to answer her questions, there was no need for her to answer Grace’s. As the tense moment grew more uncomfortable, Grace seemed to relax, even enjoy it, until finally she was laughing.

  “I like you, Lily Proctor. You remind me of me.” Grace tipped her head to the side, considering this. “That might be a good thing.” She stood and Mala scrambled to stand alongside her. “As I said, the Hive has made it clear that they want you, so you and your coven are welcome here. But there’s one thing. If you chose to stay in Bower City, you’ll have to give up your claimed. That’s the law here. They’ll have to smash their willstones and start anew. Understood?” Lily nodded once. “I’ll give you a few days to think it over.” Grace softened, her smile a surprisingly sad one. “They’ll only hurt you, anyway. One by one, no matter how well you think you know your coven, they’ll all turn on you eventually.” Her gaze strayed pointedly to Rowan before she left the dinner party with Mala trailing behind.

  Lily could feel the weight of everyone’s stares. She turned back to her plate. “Ivan? Would you pass the salt, please?” she asked with forced civility.

  Lily didn’t hear a word that was said for the rest of dinner, but running and hiding in her room wasn’t an option. Toshi kept trying to explain himself, but Lily brushed him off. Mindspeak among her coven kept her distracted while she chewed and swallowed and thought.

  Does she really think we’d all just smash our willstones? Tristan asked.

  I think it’s either that or try to make it alone in the wilderness. The Hive won’t let us go back, Caleb replied.

  So Grace says, Breakfast said. But she could be lying.

  How did she know Lily’s name? Una asked.

  And how does she know who the current Salem Witch is if it’s been decades since the Hive brought anyone new? Rowan added.

  Toshi must have been lying a
bout that, Breakfast said. They’re all lying.

  I don’t think so, Rowan said. I think there’s something else going on that we’re not getting.

  When dessert was finally over, Lily stood and thanked Ivan. Her coven rose with her and they left the dining room without a sound. As soon as they went through the doors, Lily could hear the rest of the dinner guests burst into shocked whispers.

  “Worst party ever,” Breakfast said, breaking the tension.

  “Remember when I had the seizure at Scot’s?” Lily reminded him.

  “Oh yeah,” Breakfast said, grinning. “Okay, second worst for you.”

  “Lily, wait,” Toshi said, rushing to catch up with them. He took her elbow, and her coven fanned out around her defensively. Toshi wisely removed his hand. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” Lily asked.

  “Ah—fishing for information and being disingenuous about my reasons?” he hazarded. He made a face. “Actually, right now I’m not sure why I’m apologizing because you don’t look angry.”

  “I’m not. You were only doing what you had to,” she said. “Come back to our room with us. I want to talk with you.”

  They settled into the men’s sitting room and shut the doors behind them. Lily turned to Toshi.

  “Grace says that the Hive won’t let us go east, but what if my coven and I decided to immigrate to Japan or Russia or China? Would Grace allow it?” she asked.

  “It’s not Grace.” Toshi looked around the room and sighed heavily. “How many of you know how to make willstones?”

  “We can’t answer that,” Rowan said. He looked at Lily. “Don’t answer him,” he pleaded. Lily nodded and looked down.

  “I’m sorry, Toshi,” she said. “I wish I could trust you, I really do.”

  “No, I don’t blame you,” he replied sadly. “Look, if there are any among you who don’t know how to make willstones, and you could prove it to Parliament, they’d have no legal reason to keep you. But you understand what’s at stake here, right?”

  “We do,” Juliet said.

  “Do you?” Toshi asked, frowning. “Coming from the east, can you really have any idea the influence Bower City has over the rest of the world?” He genuinely didn’t know the answer to that question.

  Lily looked at Toshi. He’s sixty-four, she said to Lillian. He looks barely out of his teens. I wonder if they’ve cured cancer here yet. He could help you. Maybe save you . . . I bet he’s an even stronger healer than Rowan, and with Toshi you wouldn’t have to worry. The secret of River Fall will stay hidden from Rowan.

  “Lily?” Rowan said, startling her. Her thoughts had wandered off again. She really needed to get ahold of that.

  “We understand,” she said, answering Toshi’s question. He didn’t look satisfied with Lily’s answer.

  “There’s more to it than just the issue of making willstones. They want you.” Toshi let the words hang there while Lily watched a Worker crawl over his shoulder.

  Now we know what the walls around the city are for, Juliet said to the coven in mindspeak. To keep the people in.

  “We understand,” Lily said.

  “I should go,” Toshi said. “I’ve already been here too long.”

  He took his leave, mouthing the words be careful to all of them before he shut the door behind him.

  Lily opened up her mind to her coven. Thoughts? Comments?

  I don’t trust him, Rowan said.

  I don’t trust you. That hasn’t stopped me from working with you, Lily replied. Fresh hurt chased across his face and she looked away rather than feel the hurt with him. I don’t think we have that many more days to decide. Do we stay or try to go? Her coven didn’t have an answer for her, but Tristan did have another question.

  Is Bower City so bad? Everyone shot him a look. I’m not saying it’s ideal, but what place is?

  It’s run by the Woven, Caleb said, disgusted.

  And it looks to me like it’s run pretty well, actually, Tristan argued.

  Except for the tiny fact that the people seem to be incarcerated, Juliet said.

  Think of Salem. Think of those walls. Were we any less incarcerated there by the Woven?

  Seems like you’ve already made up your mind, Rowan said. But you don’t know what it’s like to smash your willstone.

  You survived it. I’m not as weak as you think I am, Ro.

  I’ve never thought you were physically weak, Tristan. But you’re choosing this gilded cage the Hive has created for the humans over hardship and freedom. Try and tell me that’s strength.

  They could all feel how deeply Rowan’s words hurt Tristan. As if against her will, Lily recalled what Grace had just said over dinner about her coven eventually breaking her heart.

  We don’t all have to stay, Tristan said sullenly.

  You want to split up, Una said, surprised.

  A long pause followed. “I think we should all decide on our own,” Lily said. She looked at Rowan. “Some of us might have personal reasons for wanting to leave the coven.”

  Lily left them to discuss her without interfering. She was desperate to get out her kimono and wash the makeup off her face, and desperate for silence, both around her and inside her own head.

  The thought of losing this Tristan to Bower City had hurt less than it should. She was almost relieved to not have to see him, to not be constantly reminded that he wasn’t her Tristan, and he never could be. As she realized that, guilt folded over guilt until it was piled high on top of her head. She was at her door when she heard Rowan’s voice behind her.

  “Lily.” He stopped several paces from her and kept his hands at his sides where she could see them. He didn’t even try to initiate mindspeak. “Are you thinking of staying?”

  “I’m not thinking anything yet,” she replied. “What about you?” Lily hated that his answer meant so much to her.

  “I’ll stay if you stay, and I’ll go if you go.”

  “Why?” Lily sighed and shook her head. “There’s nothing for you here. Not with me.”

  “I can live on nothing,” he said, and for the first time since he’d returned, Lily saw him smile.

  Carrick finished his glass of wine and went back to work on the steak. They’d tried to give him some kind of raw fish and seaweed for lunch, and he hadn’t touched it. He was sure in a classy place like this they had fresh fish, but even still. Didn’t they know they could get worms that way? Carrick always cooked his fish through and through, even if he’d just caught it himself.

  “Hungry?” Grace Bendingtree asked.

  Carrick shrugged. “I’ve been hungrier,” he answered. The tilt of his lips let her know how big an understatement that was. He’d been literally starving to death more than once in his life, but as he considered it, maybe this Governor Bendingtree had no idea what hunger was. It was difficult to tell. She lived high now, but she seemed broken in to him. Her features were worn smooth and her eyes were placid from years of weathering strife. Then again, she looked young, too. Carrick couldn’t quite place it, but he’d bet she had some years on her.

  “Would you care for some more wine?” she asked.

  “Later,” Carrick said. He sat back in his chair. The cushions were plump. Carrick disliked padding on his furniture. “Why don’t you just go ahead and ask me what you came here to ask me?”

  Bendingtree smiled at him, slow and knowing. She wasn’t in any rush, but she still wanted something from him. Sure, he was her prisoner, and although this palace with its servants and fancy food and the tub so big he could swim in it didn’t look like any of the dungeons Carrick had been in before, he knew what was going on here. Some captors torture their prisoners, and some pamper them. Carrick knew so much about this dynamic that he saw to the truth of it. If he wasn’t dead, she needed something from him. Strangely, that gave him all the power. He’d respect her more if she tortured him a little.

  “You’re an interesting man, Carrick. Do you have a last name?” Bendingtr
ee asked as she poured him an unasked-for glass of wine.

  “Bait men have no family names to give their children. They are what they do. Every Outlander knows that.” He wanted it clear that even though she wore beads and feathers, Carrick knew she wasn’t like him.

  “So you are Carrick Son of Anoki and nothing else?”

  Carrick narrowed his eyes. Not that many people knew who his father was. Had to be an Outlander who told her, but if any Outlander knew about this western city, they all would. Things like this place couldn’t be kept secret no matter how much you paid someone.

  “How do you keep your spies from talking about this place?” he asked.

  She smiled a pretty smile that Carrick didn’t particularly care for. “Why would you think I have spies?” she asked merrily.

  “Don’t be coy. It doesn’t suit you.”

  “I have eyes on the situation in the east.” She weighed her words before disclosing her hand. “Enough to know that there are two Lillian Proctors.”

  Carrick waited for her to talk some more. People loved to talk, especially when they were proving how smart and powerful they were. A big ego can make even the cleverest person careless, and Carrick had found that silence worked better than a beating with people who thought they were important. All except for Lillian. She never gave anything away unintended. Never talked about herself. Never bragged. Probably because she wasn’t proud of what she did.

  “I had hoped to get more information from the Lillian here, but she has proved to be exceptionally tight-lipped.” Grace reconsidered. “Or maybe Toshi isn’t as irresistible as I’d once thought.”

  Hearing that made Carrick smile. “Don’t count on a pretty face charming that one into letting her guard down,” he said. Rowan may have distracted Lily for a time, but she wasn’t the type to get her head turned anymore. She came out of the oubliette changed. She liked suffering now; Carrick knew it. That’s why she was perfect for him.

  “So which one do you belong to?” she asked. “The sickly Lillian in Salem, or the healthy one? I’m guessing the sick one is your witch, and that the healthy one has no idea you’re here.”