Trial by Fire

“No,” Caleb said. “There’s a kid out on a vision quest on the Ocean of Grass who’s trying to become a shaman, but right now we only have the one. We need to find him before we can get you going.”


Rowan flipped a pancake. “So you can find your home world, Lily,” he said. “Right, Tristan? That’s why we’re doing this, isn’t it? So she can go home?”

Everyone was quiet. Tristan and Caleb didn’t move muscle as they watched Rowan cook for Lily, and she got the sense that they were all sharing mindspeak. From what she could gather from their flashing eyes and tight mouths, the three of them seemed to be arguing intensely.

“Why does Lillian hunt scientists?” Lily asked. Her voice sounded uncomfortably bright in the quiet room.

“Because she believes they’re going to destroy the world,” Rowan replied, not looking up from his task. “She says science is corrupt.”

“But that man. The one the soldiers killed in the woods,” she said haltingly. “You said he was a teacher. Why lump him in with the scientists?”

“Because she’s a power-hungry bitch who wants to rule the world with an iron fist?” Tristan offered. “A bitch we need to overthrow,” he added, dart-like, at Rowan’s back.

“That’s an oversimplification, Tristan,” Rowan countered calmly. He took the pancakes off the skillet and put them on a plate. “Lillian is killing teachers because most teachers teach their students critical thinking. And doctors, her other target, have to use the scientific method to diagnose and heal their patients. Both of these things promote free inquiry and, ultimately, science. Which she thinks is the devil. Do you want maple syrup?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Lily said, taking her plate and the fork Rowan handed to her. There was so much going on in the room, so many hidden conversations that she could almost hear, but not quite, that she was getting dizzy. “But why does she think that? I’ve been noticing that magic is kind of like science. No—it is science. It’s just a different way of manipulating the natural world. We use machines; you use magic.”

“Magic is a science only people who are born with a particular talent can do,” Rowan said. He poured maple syrup on Lily’s pancakes. “Actual science can be done by anyone. Repeated by anyone. And there’s no way for Lillian to control what people do with it or how far it spreads.”

Caleb guffawed. “Like Tristan said. She’s a power-hungry bitch who wants to rule the world with an iron fist.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “She’s much more than that.”

Lily wondered why Rowan would defend Lillian if he wouldn’t defend her. Her throat stung. She didn’t much feel like eating his pancakes and left them on the counter.




Juliet helped Lillian dress. The bodice hung loosely around her sister’s wasted frame.

“We’ll have to take this in. I’ve pulled the laces as tight as they’ll go,” Juliet said, with a hint of scolding in her tone.

“No. We’ll have my tailor add padding,” Lillian replied.

“Or you could eat more.” Juliet waited, but her sister didn’t comment. After a long pause, she continued. “I understand why you wouldn’t want Gideon to touch you, but have you thought about what I suggested? About claiming another mechanic to help heal you? You’ve kept whatever this sickness is at bay for nearly a year now, but obviously you can’t do it on your own anymore.”

Lillian pulled away from Juliet’s fussing and sat down at her makeup table. “I don’t want another mechanic.”

Juliet watched her sister dab blush on her bleached cheeks. She’d long suspected that the only reason Lillian allowed her and only her to touch her was because, as a latent crucible with almost no magic, Juliet was the only person close to Lillian who wouldn’t be able to tell exactly how sick she was.

“People know you’re sick now,” Juliet said.

“I know they do.”

“Then why not claim a mechanic—a good one—who can help heal you?”