Trial by Fire

“Later,” Carrick barked. Lily jumped, sensing his anger unhinging him. His eyes had a wild look to them. “I mean later, when he was set up at the Citadel and his life was nice and plush. Did he ever think to find me or help me?”


“I don’t know. Maybe,” she pleaded. “He only had one memory of you. Carrick, he didn’t know you.”

“But he knew what I was going through. What was happening to me.” He broke off for a moment to calm himself. “Everyone knew.”

“He was too little. He didn’t understand.” Lily threw her hands up, losing patience. “I don’t understand.”

“But you defend him.” Carrick stared down at her willstones. “You defend him because you love him. And you love him because he’s special. Because he got taken to the Citadel when he was seven while I got taken to hell.”

His hand hovered over Lily’s stones. She pulled herself up the bars, tears already streaming down her face at the thought of him touching her three little hearts.

“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’?” Carrick asked. Lily nodded desperately, hoping for any way to relate to him, to reach out to his humanity. “It’s a lie,” he said quietly. “There are things that a person can live through that make him weaker. Things that can leave you less than you were before. Maybe you’re about to experience one of them.”

Suffering descended on Lily like a claw from the sky.




Lily? Where are you?

I don’t know, Juliet. They haven’t said. This is all I have.

Lily replayed the brief images she’d seen—the cell, the alcove, and the desk.

Darn it. There are oubliettes like that everywhere. Can you be more specific?

Gideon and Carrick. That’s all I’ve got, Juliet. Find them and you’ll find me.

Easier said than done, Lily. They’ve disappeared. No one’s seen them in the city for days. Are you okay?

I’m in pain.




“Hey, girl. Lily girl. Are you dead?”

Lily uncurled herself from the ball she’d rolled into. Her nerves were still twitching with pain, but at least the worst was over. After she’d stopped screaming, Carrick had put her willstones back in the drawer and left. As a parting shot, he’d asked her whether or not she felt stronger, but she’d been in too much agony to engage in his repartee. She wanted to kill him. She counted that as a good thing. It meant she was still alive and kicking.

“Not yet,” she croaked in answer, unclenching her cramped fists.

“Good to hear. Let’s get started,” the shaman said enthusiastically.

Lily crawled through the dark toward the bottle of water. “Are you serious?”

“Best time to learn how to spirit walk. Right after a near-death experience or a great shock, like a fever or a seizure.”

“Huh. Go figure.” She thought about the seizure she’d had at Scot’s party, and how she’d seen herself from afar, like she was floating over her own body. “That actually explains a lot,” Lily said, and raised the bottle of water to her lips.

“Put down that water, girl,” he admonished. “You’re starved, which is fantastic, but dehydration is the real key.”

“Fantastic?” Lily asked, not too sure she agreed with his word choice. Her mouth was so dry it felt sore. “Can’t I have one sip?”

“Absolutely not,” the old man replied. “Usually I’d take you to a sweat lodge after your fast. You’d be allowed water there because you’d be sweating it out faster ’en you could drink it. But there’s no hope for a sweat lodge in this freezing cold, now is there?”

“Not really,” she said, putting the water down. It was mostly ice, and she’d have only gotten a few drops out of it anyway. “Wait. How did you see me pick up the bottle? It’s pitch black in here.”

“Darker than the inside of a cat, isn’t it?” The shaman cracked himself up.

“Ah, sure?” Lily said hesitantly. She didn’t have much experience being inside cats.