Trial by Fire

It was suddenly daytime. There were no Woven charging through the door. It was quiet. She heard Rowan’s voice in her head but she knew instinctively he wasn’t talking to her. He seemed to be simply thinking his own thoughts. He was so young—just a little boy—and so scared. Lily realized with a jolt that she was inside one of Rowan’s memories, reliving it from his perspective. She saw …


… A man with dark eyes. Dad. His normally tanned skin is green with sickness. He’s lying on one of the cots in the cabin. He smiles. He doesn’t know his gums are bleeding. He is trying to encourage me, but I’m scared. I don’t know what to do. The bite wound stinks of rot. We need time to let the puss drain, but the jars of preserves won’t last forever. I know I’ll have to go out, out into the Woven Woods to hunt, or we’ll starve.

No more of that.

… A pillow. Silky, strawberry curls spilling toward my face. I run my hand up her naked back, feeling the knobs of her spine and her bird-like ribcage. My hand is dark and big against her skin. She inhales, waking, and reaches for me under the covers. My body responds. I roll on top of her, my face in her white neck, her hips arching up to meet mine.

Don’t. That’s private.

… The courtyard inside the Citadel is muddy and the sky is the dark silver color of unfallen snow. The smell of vomit and piss is everywhere. A gallows—one noose hanging, waiting.

Stop!

… Tristan, young, maybe eleven, and a blond-haired boy are laughing like crazy. The three of us have had such a long day that laughter is the only way to blow off the enormous pressure we’re under. But even now, I feel a little removed from Tristan and Gideon. Lillian favors me. The poor Outlander. The drub. It galls the two city-bred boys, especially Gideon. I want to feel closer to these two who are tied to me like brothers, my stone kin, but I want Lillian’s attention more. She’s still too young—I’m still too young—but I already know that I’m in love with her.

Lily. Enough.

… Tristan. He is visiting me in the hospital, lounging at the end of my bed with his shoes kicked off. I swear that guy could find a way to lounge in a torture chamber. I’m inside a plastic tent, which is a sort of torture chamber, for me anyway. It’s meant to keep me in a sterile environment, but I’m cheating. I’m sticking my hands out of the bottom so I can play cards with Tristan. Not that I ever win. Whenever we play cards, I spend most of the time staring at him instead of my hand. Tristan always comes to visit me in the hospital. That means he loves me at least a little bit, right?

Wait, Rowan. That’s my memory.

… Samantha is walking in circles, talking to herself in the produce section of Star Market. Everyone is staring. I look at Juliet. Her face is bright red and she’s fighting back humiliated tears. I go to get Mom, hoping that she doesn’t start screaming this time. I can handle a lot, even the strung-out way she looks in public, but I can’t handle it when my mom screams.

Rowan, cut it out.

… Tristan kissing me. I put my hands under his shirt and run them over his bare chest, feeling the smooth skin and firm muscles, down to his belly.

No.

… Tristan fumbling into his clothes in the dim bathroom. Miranda behind him. Is it shock or sadness or anger I feel? I can’t believe how much this hurts.

No, Rowan.

… Scared faces above me. Everyone’s staring at me, horrified. My body twitching and clenching like I’m being struck by lightning. I can hear my teeth clacking together and taste the blood in my mouth. It pools in the back of my throat. I can’t scream. I can’t swallow. All I can do is wade through the panic and hope this seizure ends soon.

Stop!

“—tern,” Rowan finished.

Lily was thrown back into the noise and desperation of their situation. So much had passed between she and Rowan, but almost no time had passed at all. Thoughts really did move faster than words, Lily supposed.

“I have it,” she said. “I have your pattern.”