Trial by Fire

The one thing that the witches didn’t have, but Lily’s world did, was the driving curiosity that came built in to the culture of a well-respected scientific community. In Lily’s world, scientists had the need to figure out for themselves how things worked, precisely because it did not come naturally. For some reason, Lily was strangely proud of the clumsy, sometimes downright destructive path of progress that her world had traveled as they fumbled toward the understanding that came maybe a little too easily to witches.

“Yeah? Well, you and your snooty, all-knowing witches have never been to the moon. My people have, because it was there and it was a good thing to do,” Lily said in her best Boston accent. “So bite my scientist-loving ass.”

Rowan and Tristan just stared at Lily for a while. The two young men looked nothing alike physically, but they’d spent so much of their lives together that they shared similar gestures and facial expressions. Right now the perplexed looks they gave her were practically identical.

“No John F. Kennedy in this world, I take it?” she guessed. “Culture shock really sucks.”

“I think she needs a break,” Tristan said.

“I think you’re right,” Rowan replied.

“What I need is fresh air,” Lily said sullenly. “I want to go up to the roof.” She looked at Rowan pleadingly.

He only allowed her to go up to the roof every few days, and always at random times. While his rooftop terrace was covered by one of his super strong wards of protection, Rowan constantly worried that his ward would falter for a moment, and one of Gideon’s goons, who were always watching his apartment, would get a glimpse of Lily and recognize her.

“Please. I just want to sit outside for half an hour,” Lily begged.

“Fine,” Rowan said, albeit reluctantly. “But wear a hat. And change out of that dress and into some wearhyde so you don’t look so much like a witch.”

Lily practically ran to her room, unlacing her dress on the way. Covering up wasn’t exactly what she had in mind when she wanted so desperately to soak up what was left of the waning autumn light, but it was still better than nothing.

They had been training her for three weeks straight, and in that time she’d nearly perfected the water-purifying potion, a food-preserving charm, and a spray that cleaned soiled bodies, clothes, and hair with only one squirt of fine mist. “Kitchen magic” still drained Lily to exhaustion, and from what Rowan intimated, it probably always would. Small magic, while necessary, was definitely the grunt work of the magical realm, and it was the bulk of what Lily was learning.

She slept a lot, which served three purposes. Mostly, she needed the rest, but sleeping also killed a lot of time while Alaric tried to locate the shaman, who Lily was desperate to finally meet. The sooner she started learning how to spirit walk, the sooner she stood a chance of figuring out a way to get home.

Lastly, sleeping a lot kept Lily from spending downtime with Rowan. She didn’t want to watch him reading, or cooking, or sitting at the table talking with Tristan and Caleb. She didn’t want to enjoy the way his voice sounded or how capably his hands managed to do the fiddliest little tasks. She didn’t want to admire him or fool herself into thinking that there was something more between them than there was.

He seemed to be avoiding her as well. Despite the fact that he’d made such a big deal about being allowed access into her mind whenever he wanted, he hadn’t once asked her questions about her loyalty. In fact, apart from when they needed to touch each other’s minds during a ritual, they hadn’t even shared mindspeak. Lily didn’t want to miss sharing mindspeak with him, but she did. She remembered touching Rowan’s stone for the first time. She’d never felt that close to anyone. And now that this closeness was gone, she’d never felt so alone.