Trial by Fire

“How did you find me?” she asked in between small sips of her brew.

Rowan’s face darkened. “My half brother,” he said bitterly. “He doesn’t know enough about the craft to guard himself from me, and he’s never told Gideon who he really is. Whenever Carrick went outside the granite grotto that we’re in, I could sense where he was. He didn’t leave often, which is why it took me so long to find you.”

His voice slid into her head. It’s freezing, Lily. Lean over the flames if you can.

Lily reached her hands over the candles. Her body throbbed with pleasure as her stones gorged on the power of the flames.

“I know this is going to be hard for you,” Rowan said. “But I need your help to get you out of here.”

Lily nodded and brought a candle close to her chest, absorbing as much warmth as she could. A witch wind whistled down the rope hole and blew across Lily’s face.

“Move back,” Rowan said, his willstone flaring with power. He grabbed the door of the cell and pulled it off its hinges. He tossed the metal aside, reached down and scooped her up, leaving the candles behind.

“We have to get the shaman,” Lily said, clutching Rowan’s shoulder.

“The shaman?” he asked, confused.

“He’s right there,” Lily said, pointing into the cell next to hers.

“There’s no one there.”

“Shaman?” she called. She struggled in Rowan’s arms until he put her down. Her legs gave out, and she stumbled and fell against the bars of his cell. “Wake up, lazy! We’re rescued,” she called into the cell, impatiently. “Rowan, rip the door off.”

“Lily. Don’t,” Rowan said, simultaneously trying to hold her up and pull her away from the bars.

Lily brightened her magelight until she could see inside the cell. A heap of rags lay on top of the mattress. She squinted. Among the rags was something that looked like shriveled leather. It was shaped like a hand.

“It’s not possible,” Lily said, backing away, knees buckling. “He taught me how to spirit walk, Rowan. I couldn’t have imagined that.”

“Lily, he’s dead,” Rowan said. He picked her up. “We can try to come back to give him a proper burial later, but right now we have to leave.”

She stared at the cell in disbelief as he carried her down the hallway,. “I’ll come back for you,” she whispered to the dark, cold hole where the shaman’s bones and spirit waited to be put to rest.

Rowan slung Lily over his shoulder and climbed up the rope. It was far, several stories at least. As they neared the top, Lily heard Caleb and Tristan in her head.

He’s got her!

We need to move. There are more soldiers coming.

Lily felt hands sliding under her arms. Caleb took her while Rowan swung up and out of the hole. They were in a rock shelter built over the oubliette, much like the stone cabin in the woods where Lily and Rowan had fought the Woven. Four dead bodies were scattered around the room. Lily looked out the window of the cabin as Caleb carried her past it. It was dark out, but she thought she saw two more bodies lying in the snow. Something slithered over one of them. Feeding. Lily shuddered and looked away when she saw the Woven rise up to pull off the dead man’s arm.

Caleb laid her down in front of the small fire burning in the simple hearth. “We don’t have much time here,” he said. “The sentries will be changing soon.”

“Give her some more of the brew,” Tristan said.

“She finished it already,” Rowan said. They stood over her anxiously while Lily tried to absorb as much of the heat of the fire as she could. A faint witch wind whipped around the room, but Lily still didn’t feel stronger. She felt heat, but not power.

“She’s not transmuting energy properly,” Tristan said. He looked at Rowan sharply, and Lily could nearly hear what they were saying to each other in mindspeak even though they were shutting her out. That she might be past the point of saving.

Caleb went to the window and looked out. “We’re going to have to move her,” he said.