Trial by Fire

Several times, Lily heard the damp, smacking sound of Esmeralda’s body hitting the floor and her stomach twisted. Esmeralda had orchestrated Lily’s capture in the tunnel—she’d weakened Lily, timed it perfectly, and probably set the charges aboveground that brought the ceiling down—but Lily couldn’t hate her now. She didn’t have the energy.

After a lot of grunting and swearing, Carrick made it up the rope with Esmeralda’s body. He’d managed that faster than she’d thought. That probably meant he’d be back soon. The tears started again. Lily wiped them away and sat up. The blackness around her buzzed, her head felt hot, and she felt something against her cheek. Was she still sitting up? The darkness was so complete it confused her sometimes. Up and down hadn’t mattered in days, but she was pretty sure what she felt on her cheek was her mattress. She’d fallen back down onto the bed. Her body was much weaker than she’d thought. She tried to remember when she’d last tried to stand. It must have been days.

Magelight glowed at the end of the hallway. Lily heard the creak of the rope as he descended. So soon. She hadn’t figured out anything yet, and she was having trouble putting together the motions required to sit up and face him with some spunk. She was going to die lying down. The thought galled her.

“Lily?” called a voice—a deep, lovely voice.

“Rowan?” Lily managed to turn her head on the mattress. She saw him, his gorgeous willstone throwing his particular brand of shimmering light around him. He ran to her cell. His face went blank and his hands clutched the bars as he stared at her. He was breathing hard. Her upper lip tore when she smiled at him and she tasted blood.

“Where are your willstones?” he whispered.

“The drawer.”

Rowan turned and rushed back to the desk, opened the drawer, and lifted his hand to take them. A whimper escaped Lily in anticipation of the agony to follow. Rowan’s head turned, and he looked at her, his eyes narrowed.

“He didn’t touch—” Rowan saw the terrified look on Lily’s face. “He did.” Rowan took a steadying breath. “I won’t hurt you.”

He reached into the drawer and picked up Lily’s stones. She braced herself, but instead of pain and nausea she felt warmth and comfort. Lily sighed with the odd pleasure that was simply the absence of pain and realized that she’d been hurting for what felt like forever.

“You’re going to have to come the rest of way to me. I can’t reach you.” Lily opened her eyes and saw Rowan, his arm stretched toward her, straining against the bars. His face was desperate. “Please. You have to try.”

Lily rolled onto her side. She had no hope of standing. Her legs wouldn’t hold her. She flopped out of bed onto the floor. A wave of sickness overtook her, and she wretched but nothing came out.

“Just a few inches. Come on. You can make it.”

Lily’s head wobbled on her neck as she raised it. Rowan was on his knees on the other side of the bars, every inch of him trying to push closer to her. Her arms shook as she crawled toward him. She reached out her hand and Rowan grabbed it, touching her willstones to her palm. She melted with relief and heard a thought racing across Rowan’s mind.

Could still die. Please, no.

Rowan dragged her the rest of the way to him and held her through the bars. He was warm and solid in her arms.

“Tilt your head back and drink this.” Rowan held the back of her head in one hand and a canteen in the other. “Just a little sip.”

Lily felt warm, sweet liquid wet the inside of her mouth. It had an herbal flavor that she couldn’t quite place, but it immediately made her feel a bit more alert. She took the canteen from Rowan and felt him uncurling her fingers. She let him. His hands shook a little as he carefully reattached her willstones to her necklace. Every time his fingers brushed across her stones she felt it inside her body. It didn’t hurt, not exactly.

“Keep drinking that,” Rowan said. He propped her against the bars and dug into the pack slung across his back. He took out candles and lit them quickly.