Trial by Fire

Chenoa looked at Hakan. He gave her a brave smile of solidarity. Then she looked at Keme. He was scared. He looked so young and fragile, but even still he shook his head at Chenoa, telling her no. They were all ready to die.

“Juliet Proctor!”

Juliet stood on shaky legs and met her little sister’s stunned eyes. She was aware that people were shouting and trying to get her to sit down and shut up, but she shook them off. She’d been silent long enough.

“You want a name? I just gave you one,” Juliet said, coming forward and taking a stand in between Lillian and the three condemned scientists. “Juliet Proctor. If you’re going to hang them, you’ll have to hang me first, Lillian.”




Lily woke up—really woke up for the first time since coming to this world.

She spent a long time staring at the tent over her, piecing together what Lillian had said when she was dying on the edge of the Charles River. She wanted to believe that Lillian had found a way to lie in mindspeak, but no matter how Lily turned the story over in her mind, it all added up to the same thing.

Lily was as stiff and sore as if she’d been kicked down a flight of steps. And for once, she was actually chilly. She staggered up off her sleeping bag on unsteady feet and managed to make her way to the basin in the corner. She sat down on the only piece of real furniture in the tent and peered into the mirror at her gaunt face. The angry red of the fever was gone. She looked pale. And sad.

The guys had left their shaving stuff scattered around the basin and Lily had to shuffle through their razors and soaps until she found a toothbrush. After washing her face and brushing her teeth she felt better. She still looked like death warmed over, but at least she was refreshed. Lily ran her hand through her hair and noticed that she was growing some pretty impressive red roots. They looked almost pink in contrast with the bleached white tips, and Lily thought it looked sort of cool. She wondered in an offhand way if Juliet would like it, and suddenly missed her sister desperately. Juliet, it appeared, was the only person in this world who wasn’t trying to use her.

Juliet?

There you are!

Are you okay?

Not really, Lily. I’ve gotten myself into a bit of trouble with Lillian.

What happened?

She’s going to hang three people on New Year’s Day. I tried to save them. I’m just glad you’re alive.

Lily felt Juliet leave her mind. An emptiness took her sister’s place. Knowing she couldn’t put this off any longer, Lily stood up and rifled through the different piles of boy’s clothes stacked around the tent until she found a dress. She slid it over the slip she was wearing and struggled to do up the laces herself. It was a gorgeous dress—beautifully tailored and embroidered with gold thread. She wondered who it had belonged to and where it came from. She wasn’t naive enough to think that Alaric’s tribe had bought it for her in a store, she just hoped no one had been killed for it. She dug in the clothes pile some more and found a cape that looked like it would fit a girl. She threw it over her shoulders and went out into the snow barefoot.

She could feel where her mechanics were. Lily made her way through the camp, turning heads wherever she went. Everyone who looked at her immediately glanced down at the three stones lying on her bared breastbone and hurried to get out of her way.

The camp was much larger than she’d thought. Lily had to walk a fair distance to make her way out of what she assumed was its center, where her tent was hitched, to find Rowan and the others, all the while heading toward the looming walls of Salem. As she felt her way through the grounds, Lily passed row after row of booths, tents, stalls, and stables. There were thousands, possibly even tens of thousands, of people camped here—and most of them were heavily armed.