Firewalker

Rowan and Tristan exchanged a speaking look and Lily got the sense that they were mindspeaking. They must have become stone kin before the ritual.

Tristan cracked the tent flap and called softly outside to Breakfast and Una. “Tell them we need more wood for the fire,” he said to Una.

“And a cauldron of their dirtiest water,” Rowan added.

Both were brought, and in a moment the fire was high again. The water purification ritual only took a few minutes. Rowan laid out herbs and minerals in front of Lily, and all she had to do was blow on them to give them the power to make polluted water clean again. This time, it was Lily’s golden stone that twinkled in response to her summons. One soft exhale and Lily felt all her energy drain out of her, leaving her limbs heavy and her head swimming with exhaustion.

She felt Rowan catch her wilting torso and lay her gently on her side. His hand stroked her back soothingly while he gave instructions for the cauldron of cleansing water.

“Make sure they know the ratio is thirty thousand to one, Tristan,” Rowan said. “Thirty thousand cauldrons of water can be cleaned by this one cauldron—be very clear when you tell them because they won’t believe it.” Rowan’s voice dropped to a rumble. “Even I don’t believe it.”

“What are we dealing with here, Rowan?” Tristan asked fearfully.

“I think she’s even stronger than Lillian, but I have no idea how that’s possible.”

Lily cupped her willstones in her hand reassuringly. Something clicked in her head and the words spilled out of her, uncensored and childlike. “Pink is for medicine magic, gold is for kitchen magic, and smoke is for warrior magic. Each can do its own job better than making one stone do everything, but it’s harder to look after three of them. Harder to swallow if they catch me. I’m stronger but I’m less safe.” Her eyes flew open in panic—an echo from Lillian although she didn’t know exactly what it was that she feared. “They’re coming! Don’t let them put me in the barn!”

“Shh. Sleep, Lily.” Rowan’s hand stroked her hair until her eyes drooped shut again. “You’re always safe with me,” he said.

“But what if you want to leave me again?” Lily asked. She didn’t hear his answer and frowned as she drifted off on her raft and strayed into the Mist. Lillian was waiting for her there to show Lily the source of her panic and dread.

… They use the noose poles to push me into the barn, and they slide the doors shut behind me. I scramble to my feet and rush the door frantically, banging on it with my fists, but I know it’s no use. I hear the chain jingling and the padlock click. I’m trapped.

I hear the sound of people behind me. Moaning. Hacking coughs. Rheumy lungfuls of air bubbling inside half-rotted chests. I turn and face them slowly. It’s so dark in here it takes time for my eyes to adjust, but I can already smell what I can’t quite see. Blood. Blood everywhere. In the brick of the walls, and the concrete of the floor.

This used to be the slaughterhouse, back when this ranch raised lambs. Back when there were lambs left to eat. I know there are no animals on this ranch anymore. They were all eaten a long time ago. But I smell fresh blood, and as my eyes adjust I see why.

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