Trial by Fire

“Lily,” Juliet said calmly. “You’re no good to the rebels dead.”


Lily nodded, dropping her head. “If I don’t do this, there’ll be no rebels left to help, Juliet,” she said. She looked up at Rowan. “I’ll need to claim everyone who’s willing. We’d better start now.”

You’re not going to listen to me, are you, Lily?

Please, Rowan. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try to do this.

Brave and stubborn and determined to break my heart.

“Yeah, we’d better,” Rowan said blankly, pulling his hand out of Lily’s. He looked around at the sachem and all the elders. “Have everyone who wants to live through the night come before Lily to be claimed.”

The sachem nodded and called over his shoulder to his painted warriors. “Do it,” he ordered, and half of them raced off into the dark.

Rowan turned to Tristan and Caleb. “Come on. We have to build Lily’s pyre.” He brushed past Lily, heading toward the back of camp. Tristan followed him, barely looking at Lily as he passed.

“I hope you’re a fast learner, little witch,” Caleb said, looking down at her with a worried frown. He put one of his huge hands on her shoulder and squeezed.

“Me, too,” she replied, smiling up at him weakly. “Caleb? Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

“Yes, I do. I just don’t want you to die.”

“Me neither.”

Caleb gave her a fierce hug. He released her quickly and left her with the sachem. She stood next to him solemnly, trying not to shake too much.

“Will you take care of my sister if I don’t make it?” Lily asked the sachem.

“Lily,” Juliet began, but the sachem cut her off with a gently raised hand before she could continue.

“I swear to you I will,” he said.

“Thank you, Alaric.”




Outlander braves began to gather in front of Lily, waiting to be claimed. They were anxious. Their eyes darted over to the sachem, as if to ask if it were okay with him that they were giving themselves to a witch. Alaric had to wave people forward, encouraging them to step up, although Lily noticed that he didn’t offer himself to her. She didn’t ask, either. Lily assumed there was a reason he’d never had his knee healed by Rowan or Tristan, or any of the other competent mechanics that were sworn to him, and she assumed it was because he didn’t trust witchcraft, even if he could see its usefulness.

Alaric wasn’t alone in that sentiment. Most of the Outlanders had spent their lives hating and fearing the Covens, and more than a few had lost loved ones in Lillian’s witch hunt for scientists. Offering themselves to her was a big leap, and Lily didn’t take their trust lightly. Every time she went to take a stone between her fingertips, she remembered what it was like to have a hateful person touch her little hearts like that, and she focused on being as gentle and as quick as possible.

Thousands of lives flashed inside her mind. She saw good people, bad people, weak and strong. Lily saw love and trauma tangled together inside almost everyone that came before her. Some people were damaged and still hopeful, while others had fallen down under the weight of their misfortunes. Lily learned the rhythm of them all. The patterns she gathered from their willstones stacked up inside her mind, like she was listening to thousands of songs, catching the main tune in each one and filing it away. Somehow she knew that if she ever heard that particular person’s song again, she would recall the refrain, and her willstones would be able to play it back. In under an hour, Lily had the keys to thousands of minds.

Lily. It’s time.

There are more waiting to be claimed, Rowan.

It’s too late. Lillian is opening the Salem gates. Her army marches out now.

“Sachem, I have to go,” Lily said, stumbling back. Alaric nodded at Lily in understanding and she turned to go. The warriors still waiting clamored to be claimed. “I’m sorry,” Lily cried. “But it’s time.”