Trial by Fire

“No. They’re curious to see who’s coming in from the Woven Woods alone, on foot, and uninjured,” he answered. “It doesn’t happen often.”


Lily nodded her understanding and angled herself behind him, tucking as close as she could to the curve of Rowan’s shoulder. She glanced up to the top of the city wall and could see guards moving around up there, the distance shrinking them to the size of mice.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “I thought Lillian was hunting the Outlanders.”

“Just those pledged to Alaric. His tribe harbors scientists and fights for Outlander rights, but there are plenty of tribes that abide by Coven law.” Rowan’s mouth slid into a half smile. “Or so they say.”

As they neared the center of the fairground, the muddy dirt paths turned to wooden walkways and the armored carriages grew larger and seemed more entrenched in their positions. Children ran around, playing chasing games. It was a neighborhood of sorts, protected by the carriages along the perimeter and by the guards on the wall a hundred feet above them. Lily could smell food cooking. She heard Rowan’s stomach growl and thought for a moment that she could feel the twist of hunger inside of him.

“Can we buy food at one of the stalls?” she asked quietly in his ear. “You need to eat.”

“I’ve got you,” Rowan replied, pulling her more tightly to him. “Food can wait.”

“Unbelievable. And you call me stubborn,” she mumbled. She’d meant it as a joke, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized how true it was. She and Rowan were a lot alike. In fact, Lily didn’t think she’d ever met anyone so much like her before.

“Fall,” a man said, hailing them from the shadows. Rowan stopped, his hand sliding up to the knife at his belt.

Rowan said something to the man in a language Lily couldn’t even begin to fathom. It sounded alternately guttural and nasal, and she thought maybe she’d heard it during the meeting of the elders, but she’d never guessed Rowan spoke it as well.

The man stepped into the light, revealing himself, and Rowan dropped his hand, tipping his chin up in a terse greeting. “We need to get into Salem,” Rowan said quietly.

Without a word, the man turned and Rowan began following him.

What’s the matter, Lily? You look startled.

What language was that?

It was a few words of Iroquois and a few of Sioux. I didn’t know what tribe he was from, so I tried a couple.

So cool. I knew you weren’t exactly white, but I didn’t think you were part Native American.

Rowan looked at her strangely. What the hell is a Native American?

It’s what we call … Forget it. Lily felt like an idiot.

The man brought them away from the main walkway and behind a row of larger, more ornate carriages that were nearly the size of houses. They turned a corner and entered a small, hidden alley. The man stopped, looked around anxiously, and then bent to lift a portion of the wooden walkway. Beneath the false boards was a tunnel and a rickety ladder leading down into the dark. Rowan briefly clasped the man’s hand in thanks and began descending the ladder. Lily followed, never once looking up at the man, although she felt him trying to search her averted face.

As soon as the wooden slats were placed back over the hole, Rowan’s willstone flared to life. It shed enough light so Lily could see the rungs beneath her hands but little else. Upon reflection, she decided that the fact that she couldn’t see just how deep the drop went was a good thing. After a few seconds of descending, Lily got vertigo and stopped. She kept imagining a rung on the ladder breaking under her foot and then plummeting into the unseen depths below.

“It’s okay, Lily,” Rowan whispered. “These tunnels are only a few years old. The ladder is really strong.”