Trial by Fire

“Yes!”


“And you realize that you’re a bit conspicuous?” He pointed to her bright red hair. “And that it would be nearly impossible to get you back into Salem right now without someone spotting you from, say, a mile away?”

“So cut off my hair. Dye it,” Lily said, her voice wavering when she realized what she was saying. Rowan’s angry expression switched to surprise, and Lily strengthened her resolve. “Do what you have to do. But I am not drinking blood.”




Lily saw the first tress of her hair fall at her feet and nearly told Rowan to stop.

She heard his knife slice through another hank, and tears started welling up in her eyes. She tried to tell herself it was just hair, and that she’d never liked her hair to begin with, but that only made her cry harder. If she didn’t like it long, how much worse would it look short? Lily’s breathing skipped with tears and Rowan’s hands stilled.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked quietly.

“No.” Lily’s voice came out high and childish. She cleared her throat and continued. “It’s too late anyway, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Keep going.”

He lifted another lock and cut through it. “I think short hair will be really flattering on you,” he said optimistically. “You’ve got a beautiful face. It shouldn’t be covered by hair.”

Lily watched more strands fall to the ground. Her neck could feel everything, even the weight of Rowan’s eyes as he looked at her. She felt exposed.

When he was finished cutting, Rowan took up a bundle of Lily’s shorn hair, a twig, and some twine from his pack. He sat down next to her while he wrapped the hair onto the end of the twig, binding it tightly with the twine. He trimmed the ends of the hair bundle evenly, and in a few moments he’d fashioned a rudimentary paintbrush. Lily watched every neat motion of his hands. His dexterity fascinated her so much she momentarily forgot about herself.

“Nifty,” Lily said, truly impressed.

“We’re almost done,” he said, smiling encouragingly at her. He stood behind her and began painting the dye he’d made in his small cauldron onto her hair. Rowan dyed her hair in layers, getting all the way down to the scalp. He piled the dyed hair on top of her head, being very careful not to stain her face or neck with it. As he worked, the stench of the dye kept intensifying.

“That smells awful. It’s making my eyes sting,” she said. “What’s in it?”

“Black walnut husks.”

“They smell like pee,” she said, sniffling.

“No, they don’t,” Rowan responded cautiously. “Pee is why the dye smells like pee.”

Lily stiffened and turned her head carefully to look at him. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“You can’t make dye without a stripping agent, Lily,” he said pleadingly. “I don’t have any way to make peroxide or ammonia out here, but I do have uric acid in my urine.”

Lily faced front again.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

“No,” Lily said through gritted teeth, trying to ignore what was seeping into her scalp.

“You can rinse it off right now if it’s too disgusting. I’ll go catch a squirrel, and we don’t have to go back to Salem.”

“No thank you.”

“Lily, you really don’t have to—”

“Are you going to finish or not?” she said, cutting him off.

“So stubborn,” he said, more to himself than to Lily.

“I’m not stubborn,” Lily said. “I have conviction. And I’m not afraid to do something difficult in order to stay true to my beliefs.”

“That sounds familiar,” he said in a slightly sad way.