“Lily? Lily!” Juliet gasped, her voice quickly rising in panic.
“She’s not dead,” Rowan said. “She’s spirit walking. We can’t reach her now.”
Juliet saw Lily’s lips moving slightly. “Who is she talking to?”
“I don’t know,” Rowan replied. “Whoever it is, I hope they give her some comfort.” He sat up and took a shuddering breath, his fierce gaze meeting Juliet’s. “Now we really get to work. I know you don’t have a weak stomach, so I’m going to count on you, Juliet. This won’t be easy or pretty.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Juliet replied. He looked at her like he knew her. It puzzled Juliet because something in her whispered that she did know this young man, even though she’d never laid eyes on him before. “Just tell me what to do.”
*
Lily saw her sister and her mother. She saw Rowan. She saw her home. All of the things she loved were inches away from her, but they drifted by like hawks soaring on an updraft. They kept falling away from her until all she saw was mist.
She was floating on a misty ocean. Across from her was herself. Lily and Lillian sat across from each other in identical poses—their legs drawn up close, chins resting on their knees, arms wrapped around their shins. Lily spoke first, and Lillian answered. Mindspeak was all they needed here on the raft.
“Water, water, everywhere,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.”
That’s quite fitting, Lily. I’m so thirsty.
Are you burned, too, Lillian?
Of course. You and I are in the same boat—or raft, as you imagine it. The pyre gives more than it takes, but it always seems to take more than you can bear.
Where are we?
I call it the Mist. It’s neither here nor there, neither living nor dead. Can you remember the rest of that poem, Lily?
No. I read it before I had a willstone. My memory wasn’t perfect then like it is now—unfortunately, because I wish I could forget this. I know I won’t, though. I remember every second of my life now that I have a willstone.
I’ve had a willstone since I was six and haven’t forgotten anything since. There are things I would give anything to forget. But I can’t.
I saw Rowan reading an old math textbook once. Tristan told me Rowan had to relearn nearly everything because he smashed his first willstone and those memories were no longer stored for him. I wonder how many memories Rowan entrusted to his first willstone that are lost to him now.
He’s lucky, actually. I remember every second he and I spent together and it kills me.
I don’t want to pity you, Lillian.
Then don’t. All I’m asking is for you to let me show you some of my memories. We’re both unconscious and barely alive. There’s no easier time to communicate across the worlds than now. I thought you might like to know more about me. And maybe I want one person to understand me in case I die.
Okay, Lillian, but only because I need someone, too. Pain is lonely, isn’t it?
It is, Lily. It really is. But fear is even lonelier.
Show me your fear then, Lillian, and let’s be lonely together.
Lily was no longer on the raft. Nor was she herself. In joining Lillian’s memory she became Lillian. She wasn’t simply recalling what had happened to Lillian, she was reliving it. The first thing she felt was terror …