Trial by Fire

Snowshower barely flinched. He’d known all along that he would die, and hearing it firsthand made little difference to him. Carefully, deliberately, Michael Snowshower got down on his knees in front of Lillian.

“Lady of Salem, I beg you to save the children of my people,” he said, holding his painted hands out to her, palms up. “Please, Great Lady. Make a gift of your magic. Don’t let them suffer and die.”

Juliet’s gaze flew to her sister’s face. Surely, Lillian would do something to help. Juliet knew her sister was strict, harsh even, but Lillian would never allow thousands of innocent children to die. But instead of finding compassion in Lillian’s expression as she expected, Juliet saw triumph.

“I want names, Michael. Three names in particular,” Lillian said, a small smile on her dry lips.

Snowshower’s outstretched arms dropped in defeat. “I don’t have them,” he said weakly. Even Juliet could tell he was lying.

“Then I don’t have the spell.” Lillian sat back in her giant chair, completely at ease. She looked down the row to her right at her Coven, her voice light. “Does anyone in my Coven have a spell to cure the Outlanders?”

They laughed. Juliet felt her heart shrivel at the sound. She looked at Michael Snowshower, still on his knees, as he realized that his fate was going to be worse than the death he’d already accepted.

“I’m sorry, My Lady,” Nina answered with an obsequious smile. “It appears that the tithe for this particular spell is three names. The Coven can’t work without a tithe.”

“You have a choice, Michael Snowshower,” Lillian said, her tone suddenly shifting from false gaiety to deadly serious. “It’s not unlike the choice you made when you decided to use science. You see, when you chose to start meddling in things that you don’t understand, you were choosing to save a few lives over the thousands who would suffer from the consequences of your actions. You are exactly where you put yourself, Michael Snowshower. Now you have the choice to protect three dangerous scientists who, like yourself, offer the world nothing but false promises and death, or save—what is it, Thomas? Twenty thousand?” Lillian asked Danforth, leaning to her left.

“If it’s as bad a winter as we think it will be, estimates place the death toll at twenty one thousand, Lady,” Danforth replied with a sanctimonious frown.

“Twenty one thousand dead,” Lillian said slowly. She leaned forward, genuinely pleading with Snowshower. “You ask me to save the children, but it’s in your power, Michael. I need three names. Three lives for twenty one thousand. Please. Please save them.”





chapter 10



“No. Keep your eyes closed,” Rowan ordered. “Use your stones to see inside the leaf, stage by stage. You have to learn how to control this, Lily. Go easy. Don’t just rush in.”

Lily closed her eyes and tried to ignore her pounding head—and the faint sense of him there in her mind with her, watching her as she tried to complete the simple task of zooming in on a fern frond. How was she supposed to calm down and focus if Rowan was essentially breathing down her spinal chord? Especially since she enjoyed being close to him and feeling the touch of his presence in her mind.