Trial by Fire

by Josephine Angelini

  * * *

  Rowan has a way to find you, no matter how deep they bury you. Please don’t lose hope, Lily. We’re coming for you.

  I haven’t lost hope, Juliet. What’s the plan?

  Um. Well. I can’t tell you. You’re a prisoner, and they can make you talk. The less you know, the better.

  I understand.

  Really?

  Yeah.

  You’re just going to trust us?

  Of course I am. You’re my sister.

  That’s. Wow. That’s great.

  Juliet? How is it I can hear you when I can’t hear Rowan, Tristan, or Caleb?

  Because we’re family. Hold fast. We’re coming.

  Lily woke up amused. She didn’t know if she was dreaming of her sister to comfort herself or sharing actual mindspeak with Juliet while on the verge of sleep.

  It didn’t really matter. Lily wasn’t going to wait to be rescued, no matter what Juliet and the guys planned. The next time Gideon gave her a stone, even if it was just her golden stone, she was going to take it and whatever energy he gave her in his attempt to “train” her, and use it to stop his heart. She would be punished. Carrick might even smash her other stones, trying to kill her, but Lily would survive. Like a wolf chewing off her own leg to get out of a trap, Lily knew she would survive. And then Carrick would have to come into her cell to get her, or leave her to open the lock on her door with her golden willstone and whatever energy she had left in her body.

  It had been a long time since she’d eaten. She had to try to get away now, or she had no chance of opening the lock. Lily was actually hoping that Carrick would dare to come into her cell. Then she could lay hands on him, drain all of his body heat, suck the electricity out of his nerves, and leave him a corpse at her feet. As she should have done when he’d taken her captive in the tunnel. Even though she was dazed and weak, she could have taken power from him. It would have killed him, but as long as Lily was conscious and had even one of her willstones, she could always take the life-force of another to fuel herself. She’d had to come to the point where she was ready to kill in order to even consider that an option. She was ready now.

  In fact, she had dreamed about killing Carrick, but she didn’t count on it happening. She couldn’t count on anything anymore. The only thing she knew for certain was that once she got out of her cell, she had to get the shaman out, too. She didn’t know what kind of shape he was in—neither of them had been fed since she’d been brought here—but if the brilliant aura she’d seen on her spirit walks was any clue, he had oceans of energy that she could borrow to break him out. Then they would get away together.

  Out into the light.

  “Lily girl? Are you dead yet?” the shaman asked. The sound of his voice warmed her and gave her strength. She might be in the dark, but at least she wasn’t alone.

  “Not yet,” Lily answered, smiling.

  “Then let’s get back to work. You’ve got a lot to learn.”

  Lily lay back and made herself comfortable. She was dehydrated and literally starving to death, but as soon as she stepped out of her body, she would no longer notice it. She took a deep breath, looking forward to a spirit walk. When she was just on the verge of jumping up, she heard the shaman’s voice.

  “The universes branch out, sort of like a great tree. Every choice we make—every fork in the road where we have to decide to go left or right—is actually two new universes bubbling up and being born. In one universe, we go left; in the other universe, we go right,” he said in his soothing voice. “And so it is with every choice we make.”

  “That’s a lot of universes,” Lily mumbled.

  The shaman laughed. “So many, it gets awful confusing. It’s powerful easy to get lost in the worldfoam.”

  “Worldfoam. I like that. It sounds fluffy.”

  Lily thought about a universe where Tristan hadn’t left her to find Miranda at that party. He’d never cheated on her. She’d never had a seizure. They’d never fought and she’d never allowed herself to be taken by Lillian. Somewhere in the worldfoam this had happened. And that Lily had never learned she was a crucible. She’d never felt the touch of another person’s mind in hers or the raw rush of power when she transmuted energy. There was a Lily who wasn’t kept prisoner in the dark—a Lily who had never met Rowan. She wondered if that Lily was happier than she was.

  “Why are you teaching me all this?” Lily asked. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d spoken aloud until she got an answer.

  “Because I made a terrible mistake,” the shaman said sadly. “I violated a sacred law, and now you’re paying the price for it.”

  “Is that why you’re here in the oubliette? Because you broke a law?”

  She heard the shaman chuckle to himself. “I don’t believe the Great Spirit punishes, but I do believe I’m here with you for a reason. And that reason is to restore the balance by teaching you how to get out of this prison and go home.”

  “Home,” Lily mumbled.

  “Yes, home. You must go home as soon as you are able, Lily,” the shaman said stridently.

  “Why?”

  “You don’t belong here. And I’m to blame for what you’re going through right now.”

  “You taught Lillian how to spirit walk, didn’t you?”

  The shaman didn’t answer right away, and when he did, his voice sounded heavy and sad. “Witch magic and shaman magic should’ve never come together. I taught Lillian how to spirit walk because we thought we could cure this world of the Woven. But we were wrong, Lily. And now Lillian’s just about tore this world apart because of my arrogance.”

  Lily took a breath to argue with him. The shaman was a lot of things, but he certainly wasn’t arrogant. The shaman spoke over her. “Do you hear me, girl? You can’t stay in this world for anyone or anything.”

  Something about this bothered Lily, and it took her a moment to untangle what that was. Leaving this world meant she would never see Rowan again. But she knew that was a foolish argument. If she stayed in this world, she was going to die in this oubliette. Still, leaving meant leaving him.

  Grasping at straws, Lily came up with the only rational argument that presented itself to her. “Not even you? What if I could get you out of here?”

  “Especially not for me. I’m a used-up old fool.” Lily could hear him smiling as he said the words. “This is an opportunity for me to set things right, and I feel blessed to be able to have it.”

  “I guess I’m blessed, too. I don’t think I’d have made it if you weren’t here with me.” Genuine gratitude warmed Lily through and through. She knew that she would have given up days ago if she hadn’t had a friend down there with her in the dark. “Thank you.”

  A few moments passed before she heard the shaman speak again. “Alright, enough now,” he said gruffly. “Settle down and get to work.”

  “Aye, aye, captain,” Lily said, and then she turned her attention to her breathing. She focused on relaxing until she could feel her soul about to leave her body.

  “Okay, you’re ready,” the shaman said. “But this time, don’t just jump up. Jump up and out. You’ll know you’ve done it if you feel like you’re a drum and the whole world is a-beatin’ on you. But be careful. If you see a wall of ash, fall back into yourself, and try again a moment later,” he said.

  “A wall of ash?” Lily whispered, confused.

  The shaman paused. “There are more versions of the world that have failed than have succeeded,” he said carefully. “Many worlds have died in mass sickness, and many more than that in great holocausts. There is no point in sending your spirit into either of these kinds of worlds.”

  “How many more?”

  “There is an infinite number of universes,” the shaman said, brushing past her question. “Just focus on finding a living one. Leave the cinder worlds to the dead who burned ’em.”

  “But—”

  “Please, Lily,” he said. His voice was impatient, but behind his impatience was fear. �
��If you see ash or sickness, fall back into yourself. Immediately. It won’t do you any good to dwell on the cinder worlds.”

  “Okay,” Lily said, struggling to accept what the shaman said.

  Then she jumped.

  A pounding vibration tingled through her. It was so complex and varied even her skin shivered independently over her muscles. For a moment, it felt like the vibration would shake her to pieces, but then it stopped. A moment later, another one started—just as complex and overwhelming as the first. Lily tried to make sense of it, tried to piece it apart, but she couldn’t keep up with all the changes and variations. She could sense that it was different from the first vibration, but she wasn’t fully aware of how it was different. She was too awed by its enormity to get her head around it. Then the second vibration stopped.

  Lily found herself spirit walking a few feet above a forest floor. There was a dusting of snow on everything. She drifted up, disembodied, exulting in the brightness and beauty of the world around her. She was free of the darkness of her cell, and even though she couldn’t feel the world with a body, having her spirit partake of it was a joy. It was late afternoon. Lily saw huge lichen-covered boulders hunkering in the thin, brilliant light refracting off the winter snow. She realized that it had to be late December. The boulders around her formed a slight cliff above her that spilled down in a V formation.

  She kept drifting up. She thought she recognized the place, but she couldn’t be sure. It looked like a Massachusetts forest with lots of tall trees and trails, except there were more rock formations than usual. Something from her memory kept telling her she knew this place. She floated up and up, then saw a parking lot and a freeway. There were no freeways in Lillian’s world.

  “Lily. You must come back now,” the shaman called.

  She fell back into her body—and was about to tell the shaman that she’d done it, she’d made it into another world—when she saw magelight illuminating the alcove. She took a breath but kept her eyes closed.

  “She’s not dead,” Carrick said. “I can see her breathing.”

  “Well, she wasn’t breathing a second ago,” snapped a woman defensively.

  It was Esmeralda. Lily hadn’t had much of a chance to figure out how Carrick and Gideon had taken her, but now it all made sense. Esmeralda had only to do one little thing—shut the hatch—and even with her three nearly invincible mechanics, Lily was nothing but an unconscious armload.

  “How long has it been since you fed her?” Esmeralda continued, badgering him. “Gideon made it clear that she was to be kept weak, but you’re killing her.”

  Carrick was silent for a moment. “You can go now,” he said.

  “No, actually I can’t.” Esmeralda sounded annoyed. “Gideon had me come out here while he’s gone for the next two days, because he doesn’t want you left alone with her.”

  “And where is he?” Carrick asked.

  “Halfway to Providence, I expect.”

  Lily heard a fast movement, followed by a cry of alarm from Esmeralda. The sound of her scream was abruptly cut off. Lily wanted to open her eyes, but fought the urge. She heard stumbling steps, grunts of exertion as Carrick and Esmeralda fought hand to hand, and then the sound of a body hitting the floor hard.

  “Gideon will kill you for this,” Esmeralda said in a strained and whispery voice. Lily could hear fluid gurgling in her lungs.

  “For what?” Carrick asked pleasantly. “You never arrived. I’m afraid the Woven must have gotten you on your way here.”

  “People know I’m here. The soldiers in the camp up there,” Esmeralda said.

  “Oh. You mean the same soldiers who know you were brought up in the Coven, then changed sides to become a rebel, and now because you’ve been ignored by a man, you’ve changed sides a third time?” Lily could nearly hear the smile in his voice. “Soldiers hate turncoats. I won’t even have to pay them off to keep this from Gideon.”

  “It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t just about Rowan,” Esmeralda pleaded. “It’s her. She’s exactly like Lillian, but none of you can see it.”

  Lily heard crying.

  “Was he worth it?” Carrick asked, like he didn’t understand. “Was Rowan really worth all this?”

  “I had to get rid of her,” Esmeralda said, sniffling back tears. “After everything she did to him, he still fell in love with her again. Tristan, too. Everyone loves Lily,” she said bitterly. “They’re too stupid to see she’s going to betray them all over again.”

  A few moments passed. Lily heard gasps, choking coughs, and finally, Esmeralda’s death rattle.

  Carrick approached the bars of Lily’s cell. From behind her eyelids, she saw his magelight brighten. She kept her eyes clamped shut, feigning unconsciousness, as he looked her over carefully. He seemed to stare at her forever, but after several harrowing seconds his magelight dimmed and he turned back to Esmeralda’s corpse.

  Lily listened as he struggled with her body. The only way in or out of the oubliette was by rope, and although she knew he was strong, Carrick would have no easy task getting her dead weight up it. She wondered why he didn’t call for the help of the soldiers above if they were as keen on getting rid of Esmeralda as Carrick had said. He must have been lying.

  Either that or he wanted some time with Lily without the soldiers knowing he was down there alone with her, which was probably the whole point of killing Esmeralda in the first place. Carrick wanted complete control over Lily and her willstones. She shook at the thought, fighting back tears, until she managed to calm herself again.

  Several times, Lily heard the damp, smacking sound of Esmeralda’s body hitting the floor and her stomach twisted. Esmeralda had orchestrated Lily’s capture in the tunnel—she’d weakened Lily, timed it perfectly, and probably set the charges aboveground that brought the ceiling down—but Lily couldn’t hate her now. She didn’t have the energy.

  After a lot of grunting and swearing, Carrick made it up the rope with Esmeralda’s body. He’d managed that faster than she thought. That probably meant he’d be back soon. The tears started again. Lily wiped them away and sat up. The blackness around her buzzed, her head felt hot, and she felt something against her cheek. Was she still sitting up? The darkness was so complete it confused her sometimes. Up and down hadn’t mattered in days, but she was pretty sure what she felt on her cheek was her mattress. She’d fallen back down onto the bed. Her body was much weaker than she’d thought. She tried to remember when she’d last tried to stand. It must have been days.

  Magelight glowed at the end of the hallway. Lily heard the creak of the rope as he descended. So soon. She hadn’t figured out anything yet, and she was having trouble putting together the motions required to sit up and face him with some spunk. She was going to die lying down. The thought galled her.

  “Lily?” called a voice—a deep, lovely voice.

  “Rowan?” Lily managed to turn her head on the mattress. She saw him, his gorgeous willstone throwing his particular brand of shimmering light around him. He ran to her cell. His face went blank and his hands clutched the bars as he stared at her. He was breathing hard. Her upper lip tore when she smiled at him and she tasted blood.

  “Where are your willstones?” he whispered.

  “The drawer.”

  Rowan turned and rushed back to the desk, opened the drawer, and lifted his hand to take them. A whimper escaped Lily in anticipation of the agony to follow. Rowan’s head turned, and he looked at her, his eyes narrowed.

  “He didn’t touch—” Rowan saw the terrified look on Lily’s face. “He did.” Rowan took a steadying breath. “I won’t hurt you.”

  He reached into the drawer and picked up Lily’s stones. She braced herself, but instead of pain and nausea she felt warmth and comfort. Lily sighed with the odd pleasure that was simply the absence of pain and realized that she’d been hurting for what felt like forever.

  “You’re going to have to come the rest of the way to me. I can’t reach you.” Lily opened he
r eyes and saw Rowan, his arm stretched toward her, straining against the bars. His face was desperate. “Please. You have to try.”

  Lily rolled onto her side. She had no hope of standing. Her legs wouldn’t hold her. She flopped out of bed onto the floor. A wave of sickness overtook her, and she retched but nothing came out.

  “Just a few inches. Come on. You can make it.”

  Lily’s head wobbled on her neck as she raised it. Rowan was on his knees on the other side of the bars, every inch of him trying to push closer to her. Her arms shook as she crawled toward him. She reached out her hand and Rowan grabbed it, touching her willstones to her palm. She melted with relief and heard a thought racing across Rowan’s mind.

  Could still die. Please, no.

  Rowan dragged her the rest of the way to him and held her through the bars. He was warm and solid in her arms.

  “Tilt your head back and drink this.” Rowan held the back of her head in one hand and a canteen in the other. “Just a little sip.”

  Lily felt warm, sweet liquid wet the inside of her mouth. It had an herbal flavor that she couldn’t quite place, but it immediately made her feel a bit more alert. She took the canteen from Rowan and felt him uncurling her fingers. She let him. His hands shook a little as he carefully reattached her willstones to her necklace. Every time his fingers brushed across her stones she felt it inside her body. It didn’t hurt, not exactly.

  “Keep drinking that,” Rowan said. He propped her against the bars and dug into the pack slung across his back. He took out candles and lit them quickly.

  “How did you find me?” she asked in between small sips of her brew.

  Rowan’s face darkened. “My half brother,” he said bitterly. “He doesn’t know enough about the craft to guard himself from me, and he’s never told Gideon who he really is. Whenever Carrick went outside the granite grotto that we’re in, I could sense where he was. He didn’t leave often, which is why it took me so long to find you.”