Trial by Fire

“Thanks for the water,” she replied, shrugging back at him. She didn’t know what to say either. What had happened between them was done, and it couldn’t be undone. He put his hand on the flap, but suddenly Lily didn’t want him to leave. “Is it always like that?” she blurted out, stopping him. “Is it always so…” she couldn’t find a way to describe it. Earth-shattering? Humiliating? Amazing? They hadn’t even touched, but it had been the most intimate thing Lily had ever experienced.

“No. Non-magical people aren’t as connected to their willstones as we are. They just feel a presence in their minds when they touch each other’s stones. Sometimes they can share thoughts and memories if they are emotionally close, and physical sensation if they are attracted to each other,” he said quietly. “But they don’t feel anywhere near what we do. They aren’t as vulnerable as we are.”

“And what about between magical people? Is it always that intense?”

Rowan smiled and shook his head. “Mechanics can bond with each other, but that’s different from being claimed by a witch. We call it stone kin—like Tristan, Caleb, and I. The bond is for life, but it’s not nearly as overwhelming as a claiming with a witch. The rule of thumb is the stronger the witch and mechanic are magically, the stronger the shared experience.” Rowan broke off suddenly, carefully considering his wording. “You and I are uncommon, Lily. The next time you claim someone, even if it is another mechanic, it won’t feel like that. I don’t want you to be afraid of it, okay?”

Lily nodded, frowning, and looked away. Her emotions had inexplicably flipped again, and she didn’t want to talk anymore. She wanted to be alone. Rowan sensed that Lily had mentally checked out of the conversation and secured his mask over his nose. “I’ll be right outside,” he said reassuringly, and left.

She stripped down and stood in the bucket of icy water. It chilled her to the bone, but she didn’t care. She washed herself from head to toe, marveling at how tender she was. How soft and small her body felt in comparison to Rowan’s. She splashed water on her face repeatedly, trying to rinse away the memory of sharing his skin. She shouldn’t want to wear Rowan like a pair of pants, or swallow him like mouthful of chocolate. It just wasn’t right.

She brushed off her wearhyde clothes and boots as best she could, giving them a good shake. Luckily, wearhyde seemed to be not only durable but also capable of staying fresh even after several days of hard use. Her linen shirt was limp and stained, but there wasn’t much she could do about that. She finished dressing and tidied up the cabin while she let her hair dry. It still seemed strange to feel the ends of her hair touching the top of her neck and brushing against her jawbone, but she tried not to think too much about how it looked or lament its loss. Instead, she concentrated on folding and putting things away.

“Lily? Are you okay?” Rowan called from outside.

“Yeah,” she replied. “You can come in.”

He ducked under the flap and pulled his mask down, looking around. Lily had pretty much everything packed up and ready for them to go.

“Oh. You cleaned up,” he said, surprised. Lily smiled at him, and looked away quickly. Everything he did seemed to make her blush. She felt ridiculous.

“I didn’t know what to do with the empty jars of preserves and pickles so I washed them and left them to soak in the bucket of water you brought me.”

Rowan pulled the jars out and left them on a windowsill to dry, then went to the chest, closed it, and sealed it with a shimmer from his willstone.

“I’ll empty this and we can go.” He picked up the bucket and gave Lily a puzzled look. “Thank you.”

She nodded and shifted on her feet. “Well, I can’t let you do everything for me. Even though it is tempting.” He stared at her for a moment longer than usual. “What?” she asked when the moment dragged past the comfort point.

“Most witches expect their mechanics to do everything for them. They don’t even think twice about it.”

“I guess I’m not like most witches, then.”