Trial by Fire

He looked over at her, and his eyes softened when he smiled at her, but he avoided answering her in mindspeak where he couldn’t lie to ease her guilt.

The snow hissed when it hit Lily’s skin. As they rode, she leaned her head back, resting it on Tristan’s shoulder so she could catch as many flakes on her face as possible. She could sense how tense they were. Rowan’s eyes constantly scanned the trees above them. Tristan stiffened at every noise from the forest. Lily tried to use mindspeak to ask what was wrong, but her head hurt too much.

“What is it?” Lily croaked. “Are there soldiers out there?”

“No. Woven nest,” Tristan whispered. His breath was tight in his chest. “Shh.”

They managed to slip by the nest, and at some point as they made their way as quietly as they could through the forest, Lily fell asleep. When she woke again, she was riding with Caleb.

“We’re nearly there,” he whispered in her ear. He wiped sweat from his forehead. “Which is good because I think my horse has heat stroke.”

“Poor horse,” Lily muttered. She wanted to joke with Caleb, wanted to make him laugh and ease his fear, but she didn’t have the energy.

When they entered the sachem’s camp, Lily’s head was nodding, and her eyes opening and closing on their own. She heard voices and saw row after row of the Outlanders’ armored caravan carts and faces—lots of faces looking up at her anxiously as she and Caleb rode past. Something didn’t feel right. There was something she was supposed to remember about Alaric and his tribe, but she couldn’t.

“It’s okay, Lily,” Rowan said soothingly. “You’re safe here. I swear it.”

Lily felt her arms being restrained. She felt her legs being held down as she was lowered onto a cool bed. She saw Rowan’s eyes over hers and tasted something bitter in her mouth. She tried to spit it out but found that she couldn’t. She decided that it would take less energy to swallow Rowan’s nasty brew than reject it, so she did. She tried to tell him in mindspeak that she didn’t like the taste, but her head hurt.

Lily opened her eyes, but it was so dark she might as well have kept them shut. She was back in the oubliette. Maybe she’d never left. Fear stiffened her spine, and she sat up, clutching at her neck.

“Lily, what is it?” Rowan said into the dark. She grabbed at her necklace, feeling all three of her willstones but not fully believing they were there. She felt Rowan’s hands on her shoulders.

“Did he catch you, too?” she asked thickly. “How did he catch you?”

Rowan’s willstone glowed with magelight, revealing his worried face. Lily looked around and saw that they were in a tent. Tristan and Caleb were with them, and just starting to stir.

“No one caught us. You’re safe, Lily,” he said, easing her back down onto her sleeping bag.

“Safe,” she whispered, and wondered if she would ever really feel safe again. “It didn’t kill me. But I’m definitely not stronger.”

“You will be,” Rowan promised. “You’ll heal if you let us help you.”

I’m not talking about my body, Rowan.

Neither am I, Lily.




Juliet tugged at the collar of her dress. She’d never minded the elaborate gowns or the intricate piles of braids and curls on top of her head before, but lately everything about her position as Lillian’s sister seemed to squeeze her too tightly or weigh too heavily on her head. She swirled her ribs over her hips to loosen her lower back and folded her hands neatly in her lap, waiting patiently as she’d always done.

“Let the prisoners come forth,” cried the bailiff.